Chapter 18

Several hours later, the trio made camp in a field about halfway between Reims and Paris. Ramon quickly took off to gather firewood, leaving the immortals alone. Siroc started digging a pit for the fire, and Jacqueline knelt down next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"What would you like to know?" he asked, glancing up at her.

"I didn't even ask a question."

"But you were going to, weren't you?"

She sighed. "Not if you don't want me to. I mean, if you're not comfortable…."

"It's fine," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Ask away."

Jacqueline nodded. "I'm just trying to understand why, really. Why would anyone treat another human being like that…especially one so young?"

Siroc shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not sure I fully understand it myself."

"Bernard…is he…?"

"Someone who prefers the company of other men?"

"Not the way I was going to put it, but…."

He shook his head. "Most assuredly not. Beltranus had a wife, stepson…even a few female slaves he kept as mistresses."

"Then why—?"

"Why me?" He sighed. "I don't pretend to understand what goes on in that man's mind. But, far as I can tell, what he did to me and the other young boys he kept as slaves was primarily about power. He had it, we didn't, and sex was the tool he used to keep us in our place. If I were a woman, such a thing would undoubtedly be called 'rape'—which is exactly what it was. But no one really thinks in those terms when it's two men involved. Most people couldn't even conceive of such a thing…even back then, when it was common for men to take young boys as lovers. Of course, most of those boys had a choice."

"And no one did anything to stop it?"

"Why would they? After all, we were just slaves. His wife didn't care what he did during his campaigns so long as he devoted his attentions to her when he was home. His men were afraid to cross him, and to the people of Rome, he was a bloody war hero. He could do no wrong in their eyes. Who would possibly have believed the word of a lowly slave boy over that of the great Beltranus?"

"How did you end up with him, anyway?"

Siroc took a deep breath as he briefly called up the memory of what had happened all those centuries ago. "I was born in a little village in Gaul—not that far from where we are now, actually. Father was the village blacksmith, which probably has something to do with why I eventually ended up as an inventor. Not much of a leap from the forge to the laboratory, really. Anyway…when I was about four or five, the local Roman governor decided that our village wasn't paying its taxes fast enough and sent the army after us. And it just so happened that Beltranus was at the head of that army. They razed the village, put the men and elders to the sword, and rounded up the women and children to be sold as slaves. The last memory I have of my home is watching the house burn as my father was killed and my mother and sister were taken away. I wasn't sold with the rest because, for whatever reason, Beltranus wanted me for himself. Spoils of war, I suppose."

"Did he know that you'd be immortal someday?"

He shook his head. "I doubt it. If he did, I probably would never have made it to fifteen. I'm sure he would've killed me when I was nine or ten, just to keep me his little 'Ganymede' forever. Eight years of that was bad enough…I don't think I'd have had the strength to deal with it for eternity." Siroc shuddered at the memories, and Jacqueline wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Oh Siroc…I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It's ancient history."

"But it's not, is it? That night in the Bastille…he did it to you again, didn't he?"

Meekly, the elder immortal nodded. "I tried to fight, but he said that if I didn't cooperate, he'd take you instead. And I couldn't let that happen."

"Y-you relived your worst nightmare…for me?"

"You're not the only one who can be noble and self-sacrificing. I would do anything to protect you, Jacqueline."

"Siroc…." Their lips moved closer, seemingly of their own accord, and were about to meet when—

"Mi amigos! We have firewood!" Leaping apart, Siroc hastily moved to finish the fire pit while Jacqueline stood and took some of the wood from Ramon's arms. The Spaniard glanced between them, getting a vague sense that he'd interrupted something. "Did I miss something?"

Siroc stood up, brushing the dirt from his pants. "Ramon, why don't you get the fire started while I go see if I can find something to eat." With that, he ran off into the woods. Ramon turned to Jacqueline.

"I'm going to go see if I can find some water." She took off as well, leaving the Spanish musketeer alone, his question unanswered.

When they finally returned, Ramon noticed that the two made a conscious effort to avoid any sort of contact with each other. Dinner was eaten in a sort of awkward silence—an awkwardness that continued through the next several days. Ramon let it go for as long as he could, save for a few attempts at small talk that were either met with silence or one-word answers. After a few days of this, the virtual silence proved more than the poet could take. He had to say something…anything. "Mi amigo!" he called out, pulling his mount up alongside Siroc's. "Tell me…where did you get that sword? It's rather unique, no?" Curious as Ramon was about what he'd walked in on a few nights before, he decided that it was a topic he'd do better to avoid…for the moment, anyway.

Siroc looked questioningly at the Spaniard. "Why are you so curious about my sword all of a sudden, Ramon?"

He shrugged. "It's not every day you see a blade like that. I'd just like to know more about it, that's all."

"That's it?"

"Si. Just simple curiosity. No ulterior motive, I promise."

"Well…alright, then." Siroc was sure that the 'curiosity' had something to do with the Watchers, but decided that there wouldn't be much harm in telling him what he wanted to know. 'Besides,' he thought, 'I could always edit anything out of the journal that I don't want those busybodies to know when I go to remove the references to Jacqueline's immortality.' He sighed. "Remember when I said that Bernard sold me to the arena when he no longer had any use for me?" Ramon nodded. Absently, Siroc noted that Jacqueline seemed to be listening rather intently as well. "That's where the sword came from…the arena. It's the one I used when I had to fight."

"So you were a gladiator, then?" the Spaniard asked.

"Well, at first I was just a scared kid who'd never held a sword in his life except to clean it. Then I met Alexander."

As he spoke, Jacqueline pulled her own mount up beside his and Ramon's. "Who's Alexander?"

"An immortal. He was already over a thousand years old when I met him, and quite a formidable fighter. I have no idea how he ended up as a gladiator. Actually, I don't really know much of anything about his past, except that he was Spartan and that he too had grown up a slave. At any rate, he was one of the emperor's favorites, which gave him a little bit more freedom than the rest of us had. He was there when I was first brought in, and took me under his wing…showed me how to survive in that world. And a few years later, when I became an immortal myself, he taught me about the Game."

"So this Alexander was your teacher?" Ramon asked. "How did you die, anyway…if you don't mind my asking?"

"I was eighteen, give or take. The guy running the games at the time thought it would be a fun idea to pit me against a full-grown lioness. I managed to kill the beast, but not before she got in a lucky swipe at my unprotected stomach. Alex…he broke the rules…got me out of there before the crowd could witness my death and took me to the infirmary. I died in there, only to revive sometime later and find out that my whole life was about to change."

"So…where is Alex now?"

Siroc glanced over at Jacqueline and shook his head. "No idea. I haven't spoken to him in well over a millennium."

"Why not? I mean, it sounds as if you two were close."

"We were close, once…very close. But as soon as the emperor granted him his freedom, he took off…never even said 'goodbye.' The next time I saw him, he was watching the games from the emperor's own box with some senator's daughter on his arm. Didn't even acknowledge me. A few years later, some games were held in honor of Beltranus' latest conquest. He did acknowledge me, and that was the last night I spent in that place. As soon as I'd defeated my opponent for the day, I ran, taking my sword with me. I went to where I'd heard Alexander was staying, asking for refuge, only to be turned away. Alex—my teacher…the first person who'd ever treated me like a human being since I lost my family—he'd abandoned me. So I headed north…back to Gaul. And that's how I met Rebecca. She took me into her abbey…protected me when Beltranus tracked me down. I owe her my life, not to mention a good bit of my sanity. And speaking of which…." He pointed forward, and his companions saw that, during the course of the conversation, they'd come upon a large stone fortress. The Abbey of Saint Anne.