Well! Here it finally is..the next Nicky story! This comes after Babyfest in 
the series.
Wait! Before you begin, I would just like to warmly thank all the wonderful 
people out there who have been nudging, whipping, pushing and nagging me to 
get this finished.<g> 
And to my betas', Heather-Anne, Lorelei and Julesy! Thank you!!<BG> Give 
yourselves a pat on the back for doing a great job!
Usual disclaimer: Death thou shalt die...we WILL survive!!
This story, and all the other stories in this series can be found at my 
website. 
http://home.clear.net.nz/pages/knightraven
 
Praeteritus Futuro Partiet
(The Past Gives Birth to the Future)
by Knightraven
(c) 2000
 
 
Nicky felt odd. He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as he felt another 
wave of energy pass over his skin, leaving him covered in goosebumps and a 
little light headed.
Sighing, he rolled out of bed and tiptoed out to where his babysitter was 
watching TV. 
It was before midnight, and his mom and dad were at work. This was Natalie's 
last week, after which she was taking time off to have the baby and do mom 
stuff, so she said.
He opened his door a crack and watched Casey lounging on the couch with a 
textbook in her lap, listening to some late-night music programme. 
He sighed again. She didn't know about the unique quality to his family, so he 
couldn't talk to her. Maybe he should just call his dad. What if this was one 
of those guy things that was supposed to start happening to him soon, or worse 
still, a vampire guy thing? 
He closed his door and returned to his bed. He slipped under the covers and 
turned to face the wall.
His dad would be busy anyway...maybe he should ask his grandfather? No, he was 
on the air for the next 3 hours...
He closed his eyes and eventually found himself drifting off to sleep.
Nicky slept soundly, so soundly that he never woke when a blue, white glow 
formed over his body. He never woke when it began to shimmer, the light 
becoming stronger and more erratic in its subtle movement, and he never woke 
when the light suddenly vanished...and so did he.
 
Lacroix dropped and CD he was holding, ignoring its demise as it rolled under 
the desk. He grimaced and put a hand to his head as the pain of separation 
ripped through his skull. With a grunt into the microphone, he fell from his 
chair, slumping to the floor, darkness yanking him forcefully into its grasp.
Tracy grabbed the steering wheel of the car as Nick fell against the door 
unconscious. She managed to drive the caddie wildly onto a grass embankment 
and shove it into park.
"Nick!" She turned and shook him firmly. Knowing her partner was a member of 
the immortal undead brigade, and knowing all too well, that he never got sick 
and would never die, bar a few extenuating circumstances, did nothing to 
lessen the wild beating of her heart when he didn't wake. This was all very 
wrong. Grabbing her cellphone, Tracy called the morgue.
"Nat! Nick's unconscious...We were just driving and he grabbed his head, and 
wham! He was out!" she cried in to the phone.
Natalie had been staring at the silent radio wondering what had happened to 
Lacroix when her phone rang and Tracy started yelling about Nick.
One silent DJ, and one unconscious cop, equals trouble. She threw down the 
phone and grabbed her med-bag and ran for the car.
On the way to where Tracy had told her they had parked up, Natalie used her 
own cellphone to call the Raven.
"Jordan!"
"Hi Nat," the older woman greeted her lightly.
"Were you listening to the show?" Natalie asked her quickly.
"No. Why?"
"Go check on him...I think something has happened," Natalie told her.
She heard the phone hit the counter, then another extension was picked up, 
obviously the one in the soundbooth by the absence of any background noise.
"Nat, he's unconscious! What happened?"
"I don't know, but Nick is, too. I'm almost to him now. I'll call back ASAP."
Natalie switched off the phone and pulled over behind the caddie which was 
parked at an odd angle, very nearly heading off down a steep ditch.
She ran to the car and opened the driver's door. The seatbelt was all that 
held Nick in the car.
She pushed him to sit up straight and felt for what little life signs he 
usually had.
"His heartrate is slow," she told the detective sitting in the passenger seat.
"I don't know what happened, Nat. One minute we were chatting away, then, he 
was out like a light."
Nat looked at them both, at a loss as to even try and come up with a theory as 
to what happened, then unbuckled the seat belt.
"Help me move him over. We need to get him to the Raven."
Tracy shuffled over and pulled Nick with her so Natalie could climb in and 
start the car.
Arriving at the club, Natalie waddled full steam into the bar and grabbed 
Patrick to come and help carry Nick inside and up to the bedroom. 
Lacroix was already on the bed, paler than normal and still unconscious, and 
Nick was placed at his side. 
Everyone just stood and stared at the prone vampires.
"Patrick, what's going on?" Jordan uttered, quiet awe and panic edging her 
voice.
Patrick shook his head as he, too, stared at the sight before him.
"I don't know."
Natalie moved forward and took both the vampire's readings again and wrote 
them down on a pad she kept in her pocket.
"Heartrate is decreased in them both. Unresponsive to painful stimuli. Pupils 
dilated." She breathed a sigh and breathed, "I don't know what to do."
"Do they need blood?" Jordan asked. Natalie turned to her then back to the 
men.
"It can't hurt," she said. Not knowing what else to do to help the men, they 
began to gather the equipment and supplies need to administer fresh whole 
blood intravenously.
<<<<<<<< 
Nicky struggled to wake. A soft, salt laden breeze eventually helped to prod 
him to consciousness. When a seagull cried out nearby he cracked open an eye. 
The sudden and unexpected glare of the sun forced him to slam it shut again. 
Slowly he opened them again and he looked up into a clear blue sky, the sun 
warm upon his face.
"Slave! Get back where you belong!"
Nicky was startled when a large hand grasped his arm and roughly hauled him to 
his feet and thrust him toward a column of children and women being roped 
together.
The sounds of the wharf slammed into his mind. People were calling out orders, 
shoving past them to get by and on with their days business, not taking any 
heed of the people being bound. He was shoved again and his wrists pulled 
together and bound with a coarse rope.
"No, wait..." Nicky was slapped in the face for his utterance.
The man who had grabbed him ignored his pleading and confused look.
<Where the hell am I?> he asked himself silently. The three children before 
him in the line of about ten people were all boys and not any older than 
himself. They all were quiet and kept their heads bowed and eyes firmly to the 
ground.
Looking about himself, he saw he was on a dock of some sort. The sea was a 
mere few metres away, the dock giving way to a large sailing ship, bobbing 
gently at its side. Men were unloading crates and urns from its decks, 
stacking them onto carts being drawn by oxen.
<This is not right.> Nicky thought. Where are all the cars and buildings 
and...stuff? He glanced rapidly about trying to see something, or someone, 
familiar through the growing crowd of bustling people. 
Then he saw him...A soldier...but not just any soldier. This soldier was 
straight from the pages of the book his grandfather had given him.
It was a Roman soldier. 
His shinning breastplate, red tunic and plume crested helmet could be mistaken 
for no one else.
What was going on?!
The thought was augmented when he was suddenly jerked forward as the line of 
slaves was pulled roughly onward. 
They walked silently, Nicky's bare feet scuffing the dusty road, for a good 
kilometer or so. But when the column of prisoners came to a stable-like 
dwelling, they were marched inside and released from their bonds.
Nicky was shoved into a cell with the other children. They stared at him from 
the moment the jailers left them to begin tending to the other, more valuable, 
newcomers.
Nicky looked down at himself. He was wearing his blue and white striped 
pyjamas. He looked stupid. He rolled his eyes and wondered why he couldn't 
dream in some decent clothes. 
That's what he had determined this all was...a dream. Nothing more, no matter 
how real it all seemed.
One of the children stepped forward. She smiled, then leered at him as she 
turned back to the two older boys and said,
"He's a noble. Look at what he's wearing!" 
Nicky had no idea what she had said, but he surmised that it was not 
favorable.
"Where's your papa now, rich boy?"
"No servant is gonna come for you today," the smallest boy sneered.
"I have no idea what you are saying," Nicky told them, his hands finding their 
way to his hips in his defense.
The trio just scrunched their noses and stared as they themselves had no 
understanding of a language which would not be spoken for another fourteen 
hundred years.
The slaves were taken out of the cells one by one and returned to smaller, 
cleaner cells across the room. They had been bathed and redressed in basic 
woolen tunics and worn sandals.
The children were left for last, the least valuable of the batch of newly 
acquired laborers. The girl was taken first, then Nicky was dragged out close 
behind.
He was led to a room and promptly divested of his pyjamas. He was roughly 
turned around as a scraggly man inspected him for lice, muscle tone and any 
other health defects. He grunted his approval at the healthy specimen and 
promptly shoved him into an adjoining room where an ample woman dragged him 
into a bath and roughly and quickly scrubbed him clean from the filth which 
had managed to accumulate in the short time he had been held captive.
"This is a really bizarre dream," he told himself. The woman slapped his arm 
and told him to be silent. He felt the sting of the wet slap and frowned at 
her. 
This wasn't a very good dream.
Dressed like the others, he once again found himself separated into a cell 
with the other children. 
Almost immediately afterwards two men armed with heavy rope came and began to 
lead the adults out of the stable...They never returned.
They could hear a crowd gathered outside, and the heat and shafts of light 
burning through the gaps in the roughly built stable told him the sun had 
risen high into the sky and was burning brightly. 
Nicky heard what could only be bidding going on beyond the walls. They were 
being sold.
This was all too weird. He really wanted to wake up now...he was beginning to 
have a very bad feeling about all this. 
He knew what was going on. He had read the book his grandfather had given him 
on Ancient Rome. He and these other people had been captured, probably as the 
spoils of war, and had been brought back to this city to be sold on to wealthy 
Romans as slaves. 
This was not good.
He spoke very, very little Latin, and he had no real idea what was going to 
happen to him. His grandfather had told him tales of the past, but not many 
were ever centered on the life of a slave. And his fair colouring would point 
him out as a barbarian, not a Roman at all...not dressed like this anyway.
Nicky huddled in a corner away from the others and it wasn't until late in the 
afternoon did their time come upon the auctioneers block.
 
General Lucius stood tall and proud. His breastplate shone in the afternoon 
sun as he folded his arms across his chest. He silently watched as his bounty 
from the north was paraded and sold across the stage before him. As commanding 
officer of the conquering army, he was given first choice of the fare. He had 
taken two strapping men for his domus stable, and a handful of women to tend 
to his house.
Now, only the less valuable slaves and children were left to bid upon.
He had no real desire to buy any children this trip, but he would see the 
auction out anyway. It was his show after all. Ten months of battle had sealed 
his victory in the north and had shown his worth as the newest General of the 
Imperial Army of Rome.
"What do you think about that one?" the dark-haired man beside him muttered 
into his ear.
Lucius glanced toward his companion then back to the platform where a young 
girl was being guided to stand upon a block so the bidders could see her 
clearly.
"Paulus, you do this every time. She is pretty, yes. But she will not last the 
winter. She is frail and probably poorly."
"But she is a pretty wee thing, Lucius." The soldier replied with a lopsided 
grin, his eyes firmly attached to the young girl.
Lucius made a show of sighing his resignation. However, his attention was 
diverted back to the stage as he caught sight of a young boy, blonde as the 
day sun, being pushed forward onto the block. The boy was struggling against 
the men leading him. He raised an eyebrow at the vivacious youngster.
"That one seems more your type, General," Paulus smiled. "Spirited, 
headstrong..."
"Far too much trouble, Paulus," Lucius quickly cut him off, before the man 
could begin his usual sales pitch.
The crowd suddenly howled with laughter as one of the guards holding the boy, 
yelped in pain. The boy had apparently bitten him. Lucius allowed a small 
smile himself. The boy would be broken in soon enough by his new master.
Once in the centre of the stage the boy stood still, scanning the crowd with 
his sky blue eyes. This very act a cross on his being a good slave. The child 
held himself well, most likely of noble blood. Trouble all round indeed, the 
General surmised.
The bidding began.
Lucius was hardly surprised when his friend, and fellow officer, Paulus, 
nodded his bid for the pair of children.
The sale was quick and cheap, and Paulus was grinning broadly beside him.
"A true bargain, I'm sure," Lucius told him satirically, pursing is lips 
before shaking his head. His friend never learnt.
Paulus was one for entertaining. He was a fine soldier, sure enough, but he 
was also renown for his grand and flamboyant parties. His slaves were always 
aesthetically pleasing, but more often than not, the price of such pleasure 
would be their stamina and skill in keeping is house in good order.
As a consequence, Paulus had been forced to flog many a slave to death, or 
sell them onto less pleasant abodes around the province.
Then, of course, there was his innate fondness for the younger ones. They 
would often not last long under Paulus' attentions. It was a part of his 
friend's lifestyle which he chose to have nothing to do with. At times when 
parties would become inclined to turn in such a direction, he, along with a 
few others, would kindly take their leave for the night, leaving the other 
guests to take their pleasure as they saw fit.
The children were led from the stage and herded toward the transport area. 
Paulus moved to make his payment and begin to load up his purchases for the 
day. Lucius followed more sedately, nodding to citizens who recognised him and 
made their greetings. He arrived just in time for the children to be untied 
from the auctioneers bonds and lifted into an ox drawn cart filled with six 
adults, all of whom would be going to live out their days at the domus of 
Serulius Paulus.
The blonde boy looked up to see him as he was being lifted. His small hands 
and feet suddenly jerked out to brace himself against the cart, preventing him 
form entering.
"Grandfather!" the child yelled. Lucius could see the recognition in the boy's 
eyes, but he had never seen this child before, let alone heard the strange 
tongue coming from his lips.
 
Nicky glanced up as he was being hoisted into the cart and his mouth dropped 
when he saw his grandfather standing not a dozen feet away. He braced himself 
from being thrown in the cart and shouted,
"Grandfather!"
His grandfather raised an eyebrow, but remained unmoved as he stared right 
back at him. Lacroix was wearing the Imperial uniform of a General. His red 
cloth and leather tunic, with grand breastplate and a flowing red cape 
attached at the shoulders, completing this landscape of history.
Nicky reached out toward him as the men beneath him pulled and pushed him 
toward the cart.
"No! Grandfather! Help me! Don't let them take me!" he screamed.
Nicky began to kick and punch those around him, cursing as he rained his blows 
upon their arms and heads.
Lucius shook his head and turned to pat his friend on the shoulder, silently 
emphasizing his earlier warnings about the boy.
"LUCIUS!"
The General spun about at the shriek of his name. The child had finally been 
forced into the cart but was now turned to him and staring directly at him. 
How could the child know of him? He must have heard his name from the auction 
guards.
"Take me with you!" Nicky screamed again as the cart began to move and he made 
a desperate leap for freedom.
Lucius turned his back on the scene, moving away, back to his own purchases 
for the day. The boys screams were suddenly cut off as he was most likely 
forced to be silent.
Paulus was frowning as he looked at the child lying deathly still in the back 
of the cart, blood seeping from a small wound to his temple. He was beginning 
to think perhaps Lucius was again right in his assumptions. Paulus quirked his 
lips and raised his hands to his hips. Fool. Lucius was always right.
As he rose his head to glance about for the auctioneer, a voice to his left 
firmly announced,
"No refunds!"
Paulus frowned haughtily as he glared at the obnoxious little man. Then, 
snorting his displeasure, he spun about to make his way to his horse and 
escort his new shipment back to his estate.
End part 1
Part 2
 
Nicky woke with a pounding headache. He groaned as he felt someone gently 
patting a wet cloth over his brow.
"Lie still," a female voice said gently.
Nicky cracked open his eyes and saw a young woman bending over him, her hands 
moving to wring out the cloth and re-apply it to his head. He winced as she 
touched the cut over his eye.
He tried to sit up, but the woman held him down with a firm hand.
"You must learn to be calm, child, or you will surely die upon the floggin' 
pole," the woman said.
Nicky failed to understand her words, but he saw the meaning in her dark eyes 
and the authoritative upturn of her eyebrows.
He closed his eyes again and felt himself fall back into sleep. This was all 
supposed to end when he woke up, wasn't it? he thought. He very much wanted to 
go home.
It was well into the next day when he finally woke again. He managed to rise 
from his cot and look through the small window which opened up into a large 
courtyard and magnificent garden.
There were several people pruning and tending to the garden, all around of 
which lay the walls of the main house, with windows, much like his, opening 
out to the beautiful view.
"Good. You are awake," a voice suddenly boomed behind him. Nicky spun about 
and faced a stern-looking, middle-aged woman, different from the one he 
remembered tending to his wound earlier.
"Come. You will learn your duties." She briskly waved him toward her when he 
didn't seem to understand. When Nicky responded, she quickly turned, and he 
was forced to walk rapidly to follow as she left the room and led him through 
the bowels of the house to the kitchen.
"Here." The woman thrust a rag into his hand, then pulled him roughly over to 
a sunken trough where he was guided impatiently to wash the mountain of dishes 
within.
"Even in my dreams I'm doing dishes," he mumbled unhappily. His tone of voice 
was rewarded with a slap to the back of his head. 
With the dishes finally done, he was shown how to polish the gold and 
silverware spread out upon the sturdy table behind him. A young girl had been 
methodically rubbing the utensils since before he had entered the room, but 
had yet to say a word. He took the seat opposite her and spent the rest of the 
afternoon polishing, the girl across from him staring at him almost the entire 
time.
"You're doing it wrong, " she suddenly said. The first thing she had spoken 
all day.
Nicky looked up at her and frowned. He didn't understand. She sighed and put 
down her own work, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder as she rose 
to round the table and snatch his rag and the cup he was polishing from his 
hands.
"Rub this way, then any marks won't show." She showed him how to do it for a 
few strokes then returned his work.
Nicky watched her take her seat once more.
"Thanks," he told her and smiled. Tentatively she gave him a quick half-smile 
in return, watching as he began to polish the chalice as he should.
He was not shown back to his bed until well after dark, but the moment his 
head hit the bundle of rags he slept upon, he was fast asleep.
"Wake up, boy!"
A voice in his ear coincided with his shoulder being roughly shaken. 
Nicky moaned and rolled over to face a large ox of a man. 
He had just fallen asleep...hadn't he?
Apparently not. The man grabbed his chin and inspected the bruise on his 
forehead, before he grunted his assent and pulled Nicky out of bed and to his 
feet. Nicky hurriedly tied his sandals and followed the tall, muscular man 
down the still foreign halls and out into the darkness. The air had a crisp, 
early morning feel about it and Nicky sighed as he realized he was not going 
to get any more sleep today.
The man strode toward a large building which matched the main house in design, 
but upon entering, and in fact several yards before, he could smell that this 
was not part of the main house, but the stable.
It was huge. They passed by several horses, all of which looked well cared for 
and beautiful. Oxen, used to pull the heavier carts of supplies to and from 
the estate, were in their stalls and so, too, were the cows and goats, all of 
which were bleating impatiently for their humans to come and tend to their 
needs.
Word had obviously gone about the slave quarters that the new boy spoke no 
Latin, Germanic, or any other language known to the other slaves. Though some 
of his words were familiar, it was a dialect no one knew, so they did not 
bother speaking to him. Instead, much pointing and pushing was done to make 
their requests clear.
The large man shoved him down onto a small stool beside a placid jersey cow. 
She turned her ample horned head toward him, and after a brief appraisal and a 
few chews of the hay between her lips, she flicked her tail and proceeded to 
ignore him. 
Nicky was a little unsure about this. He had never milked a cow before. This 
was as close as he had ever been to one. The animal was a lot bigger than he 
had imagined.
The man watched him stare at the cow and the ceramic urn in his hands. An 
audible sigh was forced from his lips, and he crouched his bulk beside Nicky 
and clasped the boy's hands in his, guiding them onto the pink teats. The man 
smirked a little as he saw the boy scrunch his nose. Noble blood indeed, he 
thought.
Gently they began to squeeze and draw down the warm flesh, and after a few 
strokes, a squirt of milk shot into the urn below. Nicky smiled, and after a 
few more strokes, the man let his hands go and watched as he milked the cow 
himself. When the milk slowed from the teat, the man guided his hands to the 
next one to begin the process over again. When he was sure Nicky had the hang 
of it, he left him to go and tend to his own chores.
Nicky watched as the man went to tend a mare further down the long stable 
before returning to his task.
Looking about him properly for the first time, he saw two other girls and a 
young man in separate stalls, sitting on their own stools milking furiously 
away, all stealing glances at him as they worked. Nicky just smiled and waved.
By the time he had finished 4 cows and 5 goats, he had milked 6 and a half 
urns from the animals. He would have had 7, but he lost half an urn when one 
of the haughty little goats kicked his pail away. He had waggled a finger and 
told the goat off, much to the girls' amusement as they giggled into their 
hands.
The man who had brought him here soon saw that he had finished and quickly 
dragged him down to the horse stable and slapped a brush into his hand. 
Nicky was pretty sure that this man was in charge here. He had also noticed 
that he was, by far, the oldest slave he had seen since his arrival.
Guided by the man's large hands, he stroked the brush along one of the horse's 
backs and down its flanks. Nicky quickly got into the swing of it, and he 
quietly talked to the horse when it shuffled uneasily under the foreign hands 
of his new human.
The large man was stroking a horse on the far side of the stall, watching him 
with a close eye, and listening avidly to his strange tongue, trying to place 
it.
"Where are you from, boy?" he asked a short while later, his curiosity getting 
the better of him.
Nicky frowned slightly. The man sighed, realizing he wasn't about to find his 
answer anytime soon. Instead he pointed at his chest and said,
"Grus." 
Nicky smiled as he understood that was the man's name. He pointed to himself.
"Nicholas."
"Nicolus," the man repeated. Nicky nodded.
"Come, Nicolus. It is time to eat," the man said as they finished with the 
horses. The man showed Nicky where to put his tools away and led him out into 
the sunshine. They crossed the courtyard and entered a small building, which 
looked like a smaller version of the stable.
Inside, Grus clasped Nicky's shoulder and called for the fellow slaves 
attention. About twenty heads turned in their direction, all eyes focused on 
Nicky and his exotic mien.
"This is Nicolus," he said loudly. "He will be in the stable until the master 
says otherwise." Heads nodded as they acknowledged Nicky's duties.
"He understands not a word, but is a quick study." He pushed Nicky toward a 
girl and told her,
"Ria, you will instruct him in the master's language. Make sure he learns the 
Roman ways. We would like to have him around for a little longer than the last 
boy."
"But Grus..." the girl began, unhappy at her duties being added to.
"You will do as you are told, Ria."
"Yes, father." The girl bowed her head in submission and sat down at one of 
the many tables scattered about the room that were quickly being filled by a 
steady stream of slaves partaking of their midday meal.
When Nicky remained standing, unsure what to do, the girl sighed and rose to 
drag him over to the serving table. He lined up with the others to receive his 
meal.
It was his first meal of the day, and even the thick grey porridge slopped 
onto his bowl was inviting. He took his meal back to the table where Ria was 
sitting, and she moved along to make room for him. He gave the beautiful girl 
a smile as he sat down.
She was about fifteen, he guessed, with long, dark brown hair, an olive 
complexion and dark, expressive eyes.
Nicky blushed a little when she caught him staring at her. He quickly covered 
his embarrassment by pointing to the bowl before him and asking,
"What's this?"
Ria frowned for brief moment, then realized what he was asking.
"Non. Quid hic?" she told him in Latin. She waited until Nicky repeated his 
question, this time in the native tongue.
"Quid hic?" he said again, pointing to the bowl. She nodded once in approval 
and answered,
"Catinus,"
"Catinus," Nicky repeated. He then pointed to the crude wooden cup in his hand 
filled with sweetened water.
"Quid hic?"
"Calix," she said.
This continued for the rest of the meal, and Nicky was glad his ability to 
remember things quickly was apparently still intact.
 
Two weeks had passed since he had been brought here. It took him ten of those 
days to stop scratching at the rough, woolen tunic he was forced to wear. It 
was much coarser and more worn than Ria's cream, soft tunic. But then he was 
in the stable--no need to keep him pretty.
He had also come to the conclusion that he was in anything but a dream.
He didn't know what had happened...was happening, but it was well beyond his 
control. He was back in time. His grandfather's time. The Roman Empire, one of 
the greatest empires of all time. 
 
 
General Lucius slid from his horse and handed the reins to the quickly present 
slave. Striding toward the main entrance of Paulus' home, he was instantly 
greeted by servants and ushered into the main room where his fellow soldiers 
and a handful of elite guests had gathered to drink the night away.
"Ah! There you are, Lucius! I thought you would never arrive!" Paulus greeted 
him warmly. The General returned his smile.
"Forgive my tardiness, my friend, but matters of State were demanding my 
attention."
"Indeed. But you are here now, so sit. Feed. Drink, and be merry!" The 
flamboyant man waved Lucius toward a waiting set of luxurious cushions. The 
General gladly moved to sit himself upon them, sprawling comfortably across 
their softness. He was immediately served a goblet of fine wine and a platter 
of exotic fruit and meats.
"Ah, yes. Now where were we?" Paulus asked the small gathering around him, as 
he claimed his own seat once again.
"Lucius, we were just speaking of the latest scandal amongst the higher 
senate," Hortius, a wealthy merchant, informed him.
"Oh? I have been out of touch of late whilst away from Rome. Do indulge 
yourself, Hortius," Lucius encouraged with a smirk. Hortius returned the 
amusement and went on to embellish the story of the Senator and his milking 
goat. 
But as they all roared with laughter at the revelation that the senator's wife 
had discovering her husband in a rather compromising position, a slave ran 
into the room and quickly made his way to where the General now lay.
"General, forgive the intrusion, but I have urgent word from Lady Seline," the 
slave whispered quickly.
"Yes, what is it?" he asked sharply. He had so wanted to relax and enjoy this 
evening's entertainment.
"Her young Divia has taken gravely ill, sir."
Lucius' demeanor changed quickly, a cold mask falling his features as he 
righted himself. He rose to his feet and pasted a smile upon his lips.
"Forgive me, Paulus, but I must take my leave." And without waiting for a 
reply, the General turned and strode quickly from the room, demanding his 
horse be readied immediately. 
Having not long arrived, his horse was still being cared for, being rubbed 
down, fed and watered, so he made his way to the stable to hurry the slaves 
along.
Seline would not have called him had it been a mere trivial illness. His 
daughter must be quite poorly if she had sent for him at such an hour.
Striding into the stable, he quickly scanned the rows of horses for his own. 
He saw a young boy lead his horse out of a pen and begin to hoist the saddle 
upon its back. The boy was too short to reach the top of the animal, and there 
was no sign of any other slaves to help him. This was a direct result of 
Paulus' system of choosing his slaves at the market, and it angered him no 
end. As he neared, he recognised the child from the auction.
Nicky hoisted the saddle into the air again. It almost got there, but he 
wasn't strong or tall enough to get it in to place upon the beast's back. The 
horse moved unsteadily as the saddle brushed against his side yet again. Nicky 
was getting desperate. The horse had been called for immediately, and if he 
didn't get the stupid saddle on the stupid horse now, he would be in big 
trouble!
He started as the leather was suddenly taken from his hands and lifted into 
place.
Nicky turned to see his grandfather quickly shifting the leather into position 
and tying the straps to keep it in place. Nicky just stared at him.
He was younger than he was as he knew him. No grey in his hair yet, but other 
than that, he was exactly the same.
"Quickly, boy," Lucius snapped.
This brought Nicky back to his task, and he moved under the horse to tie the 
bindings just as Grus had shown him.
The instant the saddle was secure, the General lifted himself onto the horse's 
back and kicked it into a quick trot then a canter as they exited the main 
doors. Nicky ran after him and came to a halt at the edge of the courtyard to 
watch his grandfather gallop off into the night.
Nicky hadn't expected to see him again, not since the auction. But if he was 
acquainted with his master, then maybe he would see him again. If not, he 
would have to find him...and that could be at great risk to his own health. He 
was a slave...and slaves did not leave unless freed...and he was anything but 
free.
"Nicolus!" Nicky turned back to the stable at the shout. Grus was standing 
there waiting. Sighing, Nicky glanced back to where he had last seen his 
grandfather then began to slowly walk back to his work.
 
End part 2
Part 3
Lucius leapt from his horse and bounded up the front steps of the brothel. He 
strode through the main reception area, ignoring the inquiries and smiles from 
the whores and guests.
Moving through the maze of hallways until he reached Seline's private domain, 
he called for the mother of his daughter.
"Seline!" She immediately stepped from an adjoining room and came toward him.
"What has happened?" he asked, taking her hands in his and holding her 
tightly, demanding an answer.
"Lucius. Please." She struggled from his grip, and he closed his eyes for a 
moment as he gathered himself. The ride over had been long enough for him to 
prepare for the worst. His beloved daughter was ill.
"Divia has a fever. She was playing outside when she was bitten by a cuscus 
spider," she told him.
"But they are hardly dangerous," he said, frowning.
"To an adult, no, but Divia is only 3. She is still a baby."
Lacroix sighed and paced away from her.
"Have you summoned a healer?"
"Yes. He has given her a potion, but has said it will be a long night." She 
paused for a moment.
"Lucius...I am afraid," she whispered, her voice breaking. Lucius turned to 
her and moved to take her in his arms. Placing a kiss upon her forehead, he 
said,
"Take me to her." Seline nodded and pushed away from him to lead him into the 
room from which she had exited.
Lucius hesitantly walked into the small nursery. A nursemaid was rocking the 
whimpering child in her arms. The toddler was sweating, her eyes closed and 
mouth gaping as she panted. One of her small legs was wrapped in cloth, the 
scent of herbs and healer's potion coming from its depths.
Seline took the child and dismissed the slave. She then handed the child to 
her father.
Lucius, a little unaccustomed to holding his child, especially with others 
present, took her carefully and tucked her into his arm. He instinctively 
began to rock gently from side to side. Seline let her amusement pull her 
lips. She knew all too well who her hardened General was; his military prowess 
was known across the empire. But what the empire did not know was when it came 
to his daughter, he was gentle and loving, even if he did not show it as 
readily as most. But when hidden away in the nursery, he would take his child 
into his arms, privately accepting her as his own. Publicly, though, he could 
do no such thing. He genuinely loved the daughter he could not call his own. 
Seline guessed that Divia was all he chose to love in this world.
The child woke from her induced sleep and cried a little in his arms. 
Undaunted, Lucius spoke to her in his deep, rich voice, and, soon enough, she 
was sleeping, safe in her father's arms once again.
Early the next morning, Seline entered the nursery to check on her baby. It 
was empty. With a frown, she moved into the nearby bedroom and halted in the 
doorway. 
There, in the middle of the bed, lay the almighty General Lucius Aurelius with 
their daughter snuggled up under his arm, both peacefully sleeping.
She smiled and left them to their slumber. The child's fever must have broken 
during the night. Good. She couldn't let the girl go to waste. The child 
brought the General to her door, and with him came several high-ranking 
officials and their purses, to boot. And later, when the girl comes of age, 
she, too, would fulfill her duties within the brothel walls.
Then, of course, there was the plentiful income Lucius bestowed upon her to 
raise their child well. She wouldn't take the risk of losing all that. But it 
was trying. She was not the mothering type. Never had she wished to bear 
offspring, but after a particularly active time with her General, she had 
discovered herself with child, and he was without doubt the sire. For as the 
owner of this establishment, Seline could pick and chose her personal clients, 
and for quite some time, the General had been her only companion.
She, a freed woman, had been his only close acquaintance for a time. When he 
had been promoted to his status as General, she had attended the ceremony. She 
had shared a private smile of pride with him. But they had never been much 
more than friends; she wasn't sure he had even been capable of love...not 
until she watched as he had held his daughter for the first time.
There was only one other person to whom he had openly declared Divia as his 
daughter, but Marcus has been dead for over two years now. He was no threat to 
her continued comfortable existence.
The whole town knew the relationship between father and daughter, but Lucius 
had officially, for the sake of his career, chosen to reject her as his blood. 
Unofficially, however, it was undeniable...very few had his fair colouring, 
and it was only his daughter who carried her fair locks and blue eyes with the 
same pride as he.
 
Lucius woke to find his daughter snuggled in his arms. He smiled gently and 
recalled the time he had felt proud to be the father of this child. Marcus had 
been ill for months, but as ever, the aging soldier had been informed of the 
birth of his grandchild...though the information had not been acquired through 
his adopted son.
<<<<<
"Lucius!" Marcus growled as the man entered his room for one of his brief 
visits.
"Yes, sir?" The General felt anything but commanding before this man...even 
now, as he lay prone and pale with impending death.
Marcus waved him closer. Reluctantly Lucius did as he was bid.
"I have been informed you have neglected to bring a certain matter to my 
attention," he said with an uneasy calm. In the past this had always succeeded 
in causing Lucius unease...now was no exception.
"What matter would that be, father?" the General asked, trying his best to 
placate the man, though he was still unsure of the subject.
"I have a granddaughter," Marcus stated. He did not wait for Lucius' 
affirmation, but ordered,
"Bring her to me." He turned his steely gaze from Lucius, and a moment later, 
he heard the younger man leave, his steps long and quick across the floor.
Marcus smiled slightly; sometimes all that boy needed was a swift kick in the 
rear, albeit verbally.
An hour later, Lucius hesitantly entered the room again, this time with a 
bundle held protectively against his chest. Marcus waved him closer as the 
bundle moved.
Lucius brought his child over to the bed and sat down at its edge. He pulled 
the child away from his breast and turned her to face the once powerful 
General.
"So...Lucius. Are you going to introduce us?" Marcus could not help the amused 
pull of his lips at the uncertainty in the man holding his firstborn. As 
Lucius spoke, he reached out an aged hand and took the baby's soft, pink 
fingers in his.
The baby cooed and smiled broadly, and he could do nothing but return it.
"Marcus. This...is Divia...my daughter."
Marcus turned his eyes at the tone of pride in his son's voice, and pride he 
should have, too--the child was beautiful. He gently raised his hand to the 
lock of blonde hair upon her head.
"Just like you...and your mother..."
Lucius did not answer but raised his own hand to brush the baby's head.
Marcus forced his smile away as he turned his attention once more to his son.
"You should have told me."
"I did not think you would wish to be associated with her. Her mother is not 
exactly of noble character," Lucius told him quietly, dropping his gaze to the 
child waving her arms at her grandfather, not wishing to see the shame in his 
father's eyes.
"Lucius...do you think you are the only General to bear fruit from unsavory 
loins?" Lucius shook his head--of course he didn't. "And as you well know, 
when it comes to scandal, I am hardly one to be casting stones," he stated 
firmly.
Lucius sighed. Marcus' lengthy affair with his mother was indeed worse than 
the siring of a child to a whore...but still, he had wished things to be 
different. He had wanted a wife, a family, a home to come back from battle 
to...But time was moving ahead without him. He had chosen a career with the 
Imperial Army. There was no time or room for family...not when Rome was your 
master.
Marcus watched the subtle emotions cross his son's gaze, and sighed inwardly 
as he watched the sadness creep into his pale eyes. He had watched it appear 
ever since he was a young boy...he knew it well. He recalled a weeping child, 
finally telling him how all he wanted was his mother back. The poor boy was 
never to have his wish, though he tried his best to give Lucius a kind and 
respectable home, but alas, the damage had already been done with the slaying 
of his mother and then the rape of the child's innocence with the murder of 
his abusive sire.
"Perhaps I should have arranged for you to marry Prunella after all," he said 
quietly. He huffed a laugh at his son's quick and expletive response.
"No, you should not have! She was positively dreadful!" Lucius pursed his lips 
and glared, but then let them pull into a reproachful smile.
"Yes, I suppose so. But you did have to give her credit for her 
persistence...Her father came to me at least half a dozen times," Marcus 
chuckled. This brought a smile to the young General's eyes as he readjusted 
the baby on his lap.
Marcus refocused his attention on the most recent addition to their small 
family.
His voiced dropped to a soft tone as he took her hands in his again, and she 
gripped onto him tightly and gurgled.
"She is most beautiful, Lucius. Keep her safe and well."
Lucius' voice rasped a little as he answered,
"I will...with all my heart," he said softly, a promise made.
"I know you shall." Marcus took Lucius' hand in his own, and held it for a 
long moment before letting him go.
>>>>
It had been a rare moment between them, and one of their last. Marcus had 
passed over a few weeks later. The old man's loss had affected him more than 
he would have liked to admit. He had spent the day after his death in the 
baths; the private rooms for the elite few had been a quiet place for him to 
sit and let the warmth of the water hold him. If it hadn't been for his 
newborn child, he would have thrown himself into battle and most likely never 
have returned home again. What would have been the point? There would have 
been no one to come home to.
Rising, he gently laid the sleeping child on the bed, and after a kiss to her 
forehead, he left the room in search of the nursemaid. He told her to inform 
Seline of her daughter's whereabouts and quickly left the building.
End part 3
Part 4
"Nicolus!"
Nicky popped his head up over the stall he was in to glance over at Grus who 
was standing at the stable entrance with his hands on his hips.
"Come! We go to the market!" he said, waving Nicky toward him. Nicky smiled 
and quickly leant his rake against a wall and ran to follow the stable chief 
out to the waiting cart.
Grus lifted Nicky up onto the seat and joined him. Picking up the reins, he 
snapped them against the beasts' flanks, and the oxen began to move. Nicky had 
to grab hold of the seat as the cart lurched, almost sending him back into the 
dirt. But once they were going, Nicky turned and beamed up at the older man.
"How is your Latin coming, boy?" he asked.
"Good, Grus. Ria is a good teacher," he told him in his newly acquired tongue.
"Ha!" Grus laughed loudly. "And she is a sight to behold, yes? That should 
make the lessons easier to bear!" Nicky smiled and felt the burn of his cheeks 
at the teasing jibe.
They continued the long journey into the town center. This was where Nicky had 
first begun this adventure. Only, this time, he had the luxury to look around 
as they plodded through the paved streets. 
The air was heavy with the scent of the sea and the squawking of the gulls 
crying continuously overhead. The crowded streets brought a constant clatter 
of peddlers and citizens going about their business as the late morning sun 
beat down.
Nicky smiled as the realization that he was witnessing history first-hand 
swept over him. He had always wished he had been here to really see it. He 
hadn't ever thought his wish would come true.
"We will gather the supplies for the week and return before dusk," Grus 
rumbled. Nicky nodded and turned his gaze forward to take more of an interest 
in where they were going. They pulled up outside a large grain store. Large 
urns and bundles of herbs and cloth were waiting for them at the rear of the 
large brick building. It must be some sort of warehouse or wholesaler, Nicky 
thought. He was lifted down from the wagon and quickly put to work carrying 
goods to and fro, loading up the cart for transport.
Once they had finished, Nicky had the chance to look about the forum. He 
followed behind Grus as he traversed the small alleys leading to the center of 
the forum area. It was a huge open courtyard, lined with stalls of every kind 
imaginable.
Nicky struggled to keep up with the man as he tried to look at the merchandise 
and wares for sale as he walked. Stall holders called out their wares, and 
Nicky smiled as smells and sounds of the ancient city assaulted him. This was 
great, just like it was in his books and how his grandfather had described it.
As he paused to take a closer look at a stand of children's toys, Grus turned 
and grabbed his arm to yank him away and onward toward their goal.
"Time for that later, boy," he said as he propelled Nicky through the 
thickening crowd. 
Nicky wove through the mass of people. They were all wearing varying forms of 
tunic; the occasional toga passed him by, and he was careful to step aside and 
pay him the proper respect that a noble would demand.
Nicky turned behind him to ask Grus a question as he walked.
"Grus, where are we going?"
His answer did not come as Nicky walked abruptly into an immovable object. He 
bounced back a little and turned to see what was blocking his path. He was 
staring at a breastplate. His eyes slowly traveled up the large torso... He 
erupted into an enormous grin.
His grandfather stood with his hands on hips, staring down at the him, his 
eyebrow rising in that comfortingly familiar manner. Nicky saw the small pull 
of his lips as he greeted the Roman warmly.
"Hello, General!" Nicky gave him a quick salute. The man behind the Roman 
soldier chuckled at the tenacity of the slave boy.
Lucius hardly believed the behaviour of the child. It was audacious and 
impertinent, yet the boy seemed genuine in his delight to see him again. Of 
course, he remembered the face of the slave boy from the auction.
Grus took this moment to pull Nicky away by the neck. Nicky let out a 
surprised yelp as he was yanked backwards out of the General's way.
Lucius gave the boy a last glance before striding on through the forum to his 
destination...the baths. He was sure the boy was about to pay for his unruly 
behaviour.
"Ow!" A slap, followed quickly by the expletive, was ushered from the child.
Lucius chuckled. Sure enough.
Nicky rubbed his head where Grus had hit him, but as he watched the General 
disappear into the baths, he couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness at 
seeing his grandfather again. Nicky made a strangled sound as he was again 
yanked by his collar.
"Boy! I have not got the entire day to wait for you!" Grus was losing his 
temper. Nicky ducked his head and quickly ran after the man and made sure to 
keep close for the rest of the morning.
 
Three months had passed since Nicky had woken up on the docks of Pompeii. He 
had picked up the language fairly quickly and had worked hard in the stables 
ever since he was sold to the house of Selenius Paulus as a house slave. 
He had seen his grandfather a half-dozen times since their first meeting at 
the auction, but all had been at a relative distance or the man had been 
unapproachable. But Nicky needed to see him, talk to him. He didn't know what 
had brought him here, but he had no desire to spend the rest of his days as a 
Roman slave. He wanted to go home, and the only person he knew here was a man 
who would not know he even existed for another two thousand years... 
He was homesick. He wanted to see his dad, and Natalie. But he didn't know 
what to do about any of it.
 
Nicky often accompanied Grus or one of the other slaves to the forum to gather 
supplies. When there, he was given certain chores to take care of, one of 
which was to collect the master's supply of a certain herb he used when 
entertaining guests. Nicky would be given the exact coinage and be sent to the 
far end of the market to purchase a small urn from the vendor.
Today was a clear and sun-drenched day. It was summer, and many days were fine 
and inviting like this one.
Clutching the purse of gold coins, Nicky hurried through the crowd, waving to 
the storekeepers he had become to know.
"Sale, Hullus! he called as he passed the baker selling his loaves of various 
doughs.
"Sale, Nicolus!" the man replied as the blonde-haired slave boy rushed past 
him. 
Nicky burst thorough an alley he knew to be a shortcut to his vendor and 
appeared in the stream of people again on the other side. Suddenly he was 
shoved headfirst into the dirt. Nicky turned over as he lay on the ground to 
see what had pushed him. Three boys leered at him.
"What did you do that for?!" Nicky growled. The boys were all well-clothed, 
their linen tunics almost white in the morning sun.
"Why not, slave?" the tallest and darkest of them asked, taunting Nicky with 
his less-than-innocent remark. Nicky leapt to his feet and glared.
"Pigs," Nicky muttered and made to walk away.
"What? What did you say, slave?" the boys were no longer smiling, but were 
glaring back, a dangerous glint in their eyes. They had been looking for 
trouble, and it seemed they had now found it. 
But Nicky was fuming, his well-known temper getting the better of his brain.
"I said... pigs," he repeated louder, his tone and the tilt of his head 
arrogantly cocky.
"How dare you speak to us in such a manner, slave!" the boy roared. Nicky saw 
them tense, making ready to attack, and he, too, moved into a defensive 
position, ready to give as good as he got.
When the first boy moved forward, swinging his fist, he moved to the side and 
let it sail past his cheek, missing him. He danced on his toes and avoided the 
next clumsy blow along with the next. On the fourth, he returned the attack 
with a block of his forearm and a sharp jab to the boy's kidney.
The other two boys were not about to be made to look the fool by a common 
slave...especially one younger than themselves.
They came forward, and Nicky was ready. He engaged the first, kicking him in 
the knee, followed by and punch to the back of his head as he hit the ground. 
All those hours of playing Mortal Combat were about to pay off.
He swung his fists and kicked as best he could, but he was outnumbered. And 
though they were slowing, he was, as well, and when yet another blow hit him 
in the stomach, he fell to the ground. The boys were on him in a flash. The 
tallest boy brought out a knife and held it to his throat. 
"This, slave, will teach you to think you are something you are not!" the boy 
hissed in his ear. Nicky spat in his face.
"I will always be who I am!" Nicky growled. "It is you who are nothing but a 
spoiled leech on your father's wealth and honor!" 
The boy roared his fury, and he raised the knife to plunged into Nicky's neck.
"ENOUGH!" The deep voice succeeded in freezing the boys where they stood. 
Nicky looked up to see General Lucius seated upon his horse...glaring.
He spoke directly to Nicky.
"You are Paulus' slave, are you not?" Nicky nodded, his hair still being held 
by the boy, the knife held against his jugular.
"Come with me," Lucius ordered. He completely ignored the other boys, but his 
gaze fell upon the one holding him, and after a moment, the boy reluctantly 
let Nicky go. Stumbling to his feet, Nicky quickly staggered over to the pale 
horse. As he neared, Lucius prodded his steed into a walk and began to ride 
away. Nicky following closely at his side, having to trot at times to keep up. 
The pair moved in silence through the crowd until they were out of the main 
stream of traffic.
"Where is your keeper, boy?" the General demanded.
"The grain store, sir," Nicky answered quickly.
"What is his name?"
"Grus, sir." Nicky kept his head bowed as he should, but snuck a glance upward 
at his grandfather seated high on his horse. The sight awed him. He was just 
how he imagined he would be...strong, proud...a General.
They left the main forum and neared a gathering of soldiers. Motioning to one 
of his officers, the General told him, 
"Send a messenger to the grain store and let a slave, Grus, be told 
that...what is your name, boy?"
Nicky started when he realized he had been spoken to.
"Ah...Nicolus, sir," he stuttered.
"That...Nicolus is escorting me back to the estate." 
The officer nodded and returned to his band of men. A few moments later, a 
soldier trotted out of the throng and toward where the grain store lay.
Lucius looked down at the child, soiled with dust, blood and muck from the 
forum. He kicked his horse back into action and turned toward the city gates.
"Come, boy. Let you hope your master is in a good mood today," he said as 
Nicky fell into step beside him.
An hour later, Nicky felt ready to drop. They had been walking steadily 
nonstop, and his whole body hurt. He didn't know how much longer he could go 
on.
"Gods spare me, boy!" Lucius final growled, turning in his saddle to berate 
Nicky. "It will be sundown before we arrive at the rate you are stumbling!" 
Nicky looked up and cringed. 
"I'm sorry, sir...I can't go any faster..." he trailed off, and let his head 
fall once again. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a strong arm wrap 
around his chest and lift him into the air. Nicky found himself sitting in 
front of the General as the man kicked his horse into a canter, and they began 
to travel at a more desirable speed. Nicky hung on for dear life. He had never 
been on a horse before, and right now, if it weren't for the arm around his 
waist holding him securely, he felt at anytime he would fall and be trampled 
to his death.
Not soon enough, Nicky realized they were entering his master's estate.
At the main entrance to the house, Lucius dismounted and pulled the boy down 
off his horse and handed the reins to the waiting stable hand. With a hand on 
Nicky's shoulder, he guided him through the front door of the main house and 
into the atrium.
"Lucius!" The General turned toward the exclamation. He smiled and returned 
the warm greeting.
"Paulus. I believe I am somewhat early for this evening's festivities, but I 
thought I would deliver some property of yours which had gone astray at the 
forum, he said, pulling Nicky forward to present him to his master. Nicky 
stood silently, his head bowed and hands clasped before him.
"Oh, yes...he is one of mine, isn't he?" Paulus said, pouting his lips 
thoughtfully as he looked Nicky over. "Where do you work, boy?" Paulus asked.
"The stable, master."
"And why are you not there?"
"I was sent to the forum to collect supplies, master."
"And what has happened so that you find yourself before me now, child?"
"I was..." Nicky suddenly wasn't sure how he should answer. Should he tell of 
the noble boys who had attacked him, or would that just get him into deeper 
trouble? 
"I witnessed the incident, and I have to say, that it was not solely his 
error. Perhaps a reasonable punishment would be in order," Lucius interrupted 
on Nicky's behalf. Paulus cocked a grin. So the General was taking an eye to 
this pretty one. Well, then so be it, he thought ruefully.
"Very well..." He looked to the boy and waited. 
Nicky realized he was awaiting a name.
"Nicolus, master."
"Very well, Nicolus, you may add to your duties, tonight. When you have 
finished your stable duties you will report to the kitchen and be outfitted 
for in-house duties. You will work until dawn," Paulus told him firmly. Nicky 
nodded.
"Yes, master." Nicky knew it could have been far worse. Losing a night's sleep 
wasn't so bad.
Paulus waved his hand though the air.
"You may go," he said, dismissing him. Nicky bowed and turned, and after a 
quick smile of thanks to the General, he hurried from the room and headed 
straight toward the stable. 
"Did not I tell you that one would appeal to you, Lucius?" Paulus grinned, 
nudging his friend in the arm.
"And as I have told you, Paulus, he will be trouble."
"Yes, but what amusement his trouble will bring!" Paulus exclaimed, slapping 
Lucius' shoulder once more as he walked away.
End part 4
Part 5
Just as he was bid, Nicky arrived in the kitchen at sundown. He was taken 
aside and bathed and dressed in a fine linen tunic, far brighter than his old 
and damaged stable tunic, all the while being instructed in his duties. He was 
to serve food and wine to the master's guests during the length of the 
festivities. Nicky wasn't looking forward to it. It was common for these 
parties to last until well after midnight and into the next day, and after the 
hard day he had already had, he wasn't sure if he could stay awake that long.
Sooner than he would have liked, a platter of meats was thrust into his hands, 
and Nicky was pointed in the direction of the main room where the guests had 
gathered. At least he would be able to see his grandfather again, he thought 
with a smile.
He entered the room amongst a queue of slaves, all carrying platters heaped 
high with finely prepared food.
He glanced about the large room and quickly recognizing several of the guests 
as the regular acquaintances to his master's parties. Of course, he usually 
saw them at the main entrance as he took their horses, not in the relaxed 
atmosphere of the banquet hall. He saw his grandfather smile charmingly as he 
spoke with a woman who appeared to be teasing him. The pair were standing much 
too close together...Jordan sure wouldn't like that...Nicky thought with a 
small smirk.
Nicky placed his tray on a long table already well-covered with trays, and 
moved to take up an urn filled with wine and see to the guests' goblets.
Servia, the house manager, guided him quietly to move around the room, subtly 
filling cups as they emptied. Nicky made his way to his grandfather's side and 
smiled as he turned to see him waiting patiently for him to hold out the 
silver and gold goblet in his hand. Nicky saw a glint of greeting in the 
General's eye but he otherwise remained unexpressive in his recognition of the 
slave boy.
Lucius held out his empty cup as he continued the conversation with the lovely 
Lady Helene. 
Nicky refilled the General's wine and moved on to the next guest. Though he 
tended to the others, he kept himself within his grandfather's hearing for the 
next few hours.
"It seems you have a shadow, General," Paulus said quietly into Lucius's ear, 
a knowing smirk curving his lips.
"So I have noticed," Lucius said with a sigh as he glanced over his shoulder 
to the young slave boy. He was rather tired of his friend's efforts to pair 
him with the boy. He was certain that was where this was all leading.
The guests were lounging comfortably upon mountains of coloured cushions, 
laughing and talking as they mingled. Soon the entertainment began, and Nicky 
was able to stand a few meters behind his grandfather and wait to be summoned.
Dancers and jugglers emerged in their brightly-coloured clothing to perform 
for the noble gathering. 
Nicky was laughing out loud at the antics of a clown when he realized he was 
being stared at by the nobles directly in front of him...as well as his 
overseer, Servia. The bolt of molten steel which flew from her eyes quickly 
stilled his inappropriate action. Slaves were barely seen and certainly never 
heard.
Nicky ducked his head and avoided all but the General's gaze. The Roman shook 
his head as he no doubt wondered about the boy's sanity.
As the evening wore on, Lucius noticed the eye of his host drifting toward the 
serving boys, the blonde in particular. The festivities were about to move to 
another level. He had seen the development enough in the past to know the cue 
to take his leave.
Nicky saw his master wave him over, and he gathered his urn and quickly went 
to his side.
"Nicolus, is it not?"
"Yes, master," Nicky replied.
"An unusual name? You are Barbarian?"
"Yes." Nicky had no desire to dispute the man's theory. 
"Come closer, child, let me look at you," Paulus told him in a kindly manner. 
Nicky felt the hair on his neck rise. He clutched his urn, and he tentatively 
moved a few steps closer.
"Why don't you put that down, Nicolus," Paulus said, gesturing to the urn. 
Nicky carefully, and reluctantly, gave it to another slave who came forward to 
take it from him.
The room had stilled and quieted--all eyes were on the host and his quarry.
Paulus raised a hand to stroke the boy's blonde hair and shoulders.
"A fine specimen, wouldn't you say, Lucius?"
The General had been about to rise and make his way toward the exit, when he 
heard the question directed to himself.
"You always do choose well, Paulus," he placated and smiled, though his eyes 
held a chill which his friend quickly deciphered.
"Come now, General. How would you like to take this young one? Their first is 
always such sweet fruit."
"Thank you, Paulus, but you well aware of my preference," Lucius spoke, his 
polite smile belaying the anger of such ridicule in his eyes. He had to be 
careful here. With the high-ranking of officials and nobles gathered, it was 
no place or time to lose the support of one's political sponsors. Half the men 
in this room could make or break his career with the wave of a hand.
A hand ran down Nicky's back and over his buttocks. He started, his eyes 
growing wide, and he shot a panicked look to his grandfather, who had risen to 
his feet.
Lucius took in the boy's fright. He had a good idea what was going to happen 
to the slave boy tonight. The child would do well to be afraid.
"Lucius, you can be such a bore," Paulus droned, waving the General away, 
realizing the soldier was not about to budge from his stance. Lucius glared.
"Paulus..." Lucius began, his tone burning with a sharpened edge, "...do not 
exert yourself tonight...though I suppose that would be rather difficult for 
someone with your...preference."
"Lucius!" Paulus roared with laughter, and several others joined him as the 
tension in the room was broken. "I should know better than to try and match 
your wit!"
"As well you should..." Lucius returned. He allowed his tone of amusement to 
show his forgiveness for the slight upon his personal honor. He quickly lost 
Paulus' attention, though, as it was swung back to the boy under his hand.
Nicky took the banter to take a step away from his master, but his master 
whipped his head about and lunged toward him and yank Nicky back to where he 
had been previously placed.
"Take care to do what you are told, boy," Paulus said. The low, menace-laden 
words caused a shudder to pass though Nicky's body. He was beginning to get 
scared. His grandfather didn't know who he was...and this sort of thing 
happened all the time. His tutor Ria was often called to the master's 
chambers. He couldn't rely on his grandfather to help him now.
Paulus smiled, and for once, Lucius paused and watched the happenings as the 
evening's entertainment began to glance rapidly about the room.
He is going to run, Lucius thought. He could see it in the boy's eyes. As 
foolish as it was, he had to give the boy credit for not bowing under his 
master's hand.
Sure enough, when Paulus reached for the boy's small groin, the child jumped 
back out of reach and bared his teeth, hissing as the fire of fight jumped to 
life in his young and spirited eyes. A small smile pulled at the General's 
lips. Perhaps it would be more entertaining if he stayed for a little longer.
"What are you doing, boy?" Paulus said, a broad smile spreading across his 
face as he held out his arms. "I will not hurt you."
"Like hell!" Nicky said, moving further away still.
"It looks like you have a live one, Paulus," one of the guest shouted. The 
others laughed at the scene being played out before them.
Nicky kept up his evaluation of the circumstances he now found himself in. If 
he could make it to the front door, he might just get out of the house and 
into the garden where he could run for the woods and on until his heart burst. 
"Come back here, child. You will not be punished if you return to me at once," 
Paulus said as kindly as he could, but his annoyance was clearly slipping 
through.
Nicky shook his head . His master waved to the other slaves around them and 
they, plus several guards, came forth to grab Nicky.
Nicky did all he could do. He ran. 
He bolted toward a group of women, and they squealed and waved their hands in 
the air as he bounded through them.
The women successfully slowed his pursuers a little, and Nicky managed to exit 
a doorway into the main hallway, which ultimately led through the atrium and 
onward to the main entry. Running as quickly as he could, he dodged bodies and 
hands and threw vases and statues behind him in an attempt to avoid capture. A 
mass of men were now chasing him though the maze of halls, and he managed to 
led them back to the main area from which they started. The guests were mostly 
laughing and cheering as he ran back in, across the room and out another 
passage.
Lucius looked on, impressed, so far, with the boy's tactics. He had chosen the 
weak point to make his initial move, then circled the pursuers in on 
themselves, causing chaos. A clever young thing. But it was a losing 
battle...the boy was simply outnumbered. And sure enough, not long after, the 
child was brought kicking and screaming with fury back before his master.
"Let me go, you pigs!!" Nicky spat. He had not known the passageways well 
enough and had been cornered near the far side of the atrium.
He bit and kicked at the men holding him, trying, once again, to break free.
"Enough, slave!" Paulus growled as he stood before Nicky. Nicky halted his 
struggles and glared at the Roman.
"I am no one's slave!" Nicky roared. Paulus stepped forward and grabbed hold 
of Nicky's hair, pulling it down, forcing him to look up into his eyes.
"You are mine, boy. You will always be mine."
"I will never be yours. You are all nothing but lazy pigs! And Rome will fall 
because of it!" Nicky hissed to the stunned Roman.
"Why the dirty little..." one of the women uttered as everyone else stood 
still, waiting for Paulus to react.
Paulus stared at Nicky, then stepped back and turned away.
"Flog him, and leave him outside. I do not want his barbarian filth in my 
house. Not until he learns his place," he commanded.
Nicky was quickly hauled away, and with a last pleading look to his 
grandfather, he was taken outside.
"I believe this is where I shall take my leave, Paulus," Lucius said . He gave 
the man a quick nod and spun on his heel to stride for the door.
A crowd of slaves gathered as Nicky was dragged out of the house and into the 
courtyard leading to the stable. His wrists were roughly tied, and they were 
tethered to a metal ring above his head against the stable wall.
"How many?" Grus asked as he moved into position behind Nicky. He was Nicky's 
chief, therefore it was his responsibility to administer his punishment.
"Didn't say," Servia told him. "But the boy needs to know his place. You 
should have seen the mayhem, Grus!" Servia was only too happy to see Nicky at 
the receiving end of the stable master's whip.
"Sorry, lad, but rather you than me," the large man said.
And before Nicky knew what was happening, searing pain slashed across his 
back. It hurt so much he could hardly utter a sound.
Nicky lost count after eight. When he hung motionless and unresponsive against 
the stable wall, Grus stopped.
"Twelve...not bad for a beginner," Grus said lightly a little respect in his 
tone as he went forward and cut the boy down.
Nicky fell to the ground, barely aware he was not upright anymore.
"See to him, Ria, and take him to his quarters."
"Yes, father," the girl said, rushing to Nicky's side, and with the help of 
another stable hand, she had him carried back to his cot.
Nicky had not been able to move from his bed for two days. Even now, two weeks 
later, the welts on his back were still visible, and his movements stiff.
He had been sent back to the stable on the fourth day. Pain or no pain, the 
work needed to be done, and the other slaves could not cope with his chores as 
well as their own for long.
Nicky sat on his milking stool, rhythmically squeezing Daisy's teats. That's 
what he had named her. When he had told Grus the meaning in Latin, the man had 
laughed.
"Bellis! That she is!" The man had been particularly friendly with Nicky since 
the flogging. But he needn't be. Nicky didn't blame him; he had just done as 
he was ordered.
"Nicolus!"
Nicky turned to see Horus, a house slave, at the stable door.
"The master has asked for you!" he announced. The other stable hands gave 
Nicky quick smiles and pats on the back as he solemnly poured his urn of milk 
into the large vat and followed Horus into the main house. 
As they walked the hallways, the young man spoke.
"The master wishes for you to go to the baths and help tend to he and his 
guest."
Nicky just sighed and set his jaw stubbornly as Horus left him just inside the 
bathhouse door.
Nicky went though to the steam area and on to the small changing room where 
the cloths, oils and perfumes were kept. Jara, the woman who saw to the bath, 
showed him where to stand and quickly told him what his duties were. He was to 
fetch and gather clothes and oils as the master required them, as well as 
anything else he was to desire. When not called upon, he was to stand in a 
small niche in the bathing room until he was summoned.
Nicky took the cloths from the young woman and took up his position in the 
bath room. It was huge compared to modern day bathrooms, though smaller than 
the baths in the forum. Every wall in the room was decorated with a stunning 
mosaic, mostly of serene foreign shores. The Nile river was the only one he 
recognized. A bronze statue of a dancing child was at one end of the room, and 
several marble gods were placed in niches much like the one he himself was now 
standing in. He wondered why the master had called upon him. He didn't want to 
even think about what might happen here today. He sighed and slouched a 
little. He straightened quickly when he heard the approach of Paulus and his 
guest.
They did not immediately come into the bath room, but first went to the small 
changing room to remove their clothes, then into the steam room, where water 
poured over hot river stones soothed away aches and helped the men adjust to 
the temperature of the bath. Paulus had routed hot water into his bath 
tonight, the air outside was chilled and the steaming pool of water looked 
inviting. 
A half hour later, Nicky jolted into position as the men entered.
Grandfather. Nicky smiled then reined it in at the sight of the General. 
Lucius quickly spotted the boy holding an array of wash cloths in his hands, 
waiting just out of the direct line of sight from Paulus and himself.
He followed Paulus, stepping into the pool of hot water and quickly sank up to 
his neck, sitting upon a ledge along the far end.
"Ahhh," Paulus breathed as he submerged. Lucius had to agree, the bath was 
particularly pleasant tonight, much hotter than their usual tepid dip. He lay 
back with his arms spread along the edge of the pool and closed his eyes as he 
allowed himself to relax.
He was, however, not completely at ease. The boy's presence was cause for 
concern. Paulus was undoubtedly up to something.
"Nicolus," Paulus drooled.
Nicky hesitated before quickly moving to the edge of the pool.
"Join us," his master ordered.
"Master?"
"Remove your tunic and get in, boy!"
"Paulus..." Lucius began.
"Do not fret, Lucius," the man placated gently.
Nicky lingered for a moment and glanced uneasily to his grandfather.
"Come, boy, do not make me do it myself," Paulus said impatiently.
Nicky crouched down to untie his sandals, then straightened and pulled his 
tunic up over his head. Naked, he eased himself up to his chest, with a brief 
grimace, into the hot water. He remained standing at the far end of the bath 
to the soldiers.
Paulus beckoned him closer with a wave. Nicky inched his way forward, keeping 
more to his grandfather's side than his master's.
"Turn around, boy," his grandfather suddenly demanded as he rose from the 
ledge. He was frowning. Nicky obeyed, and he felt the General's hand on his 
shoulder.
Lucius stood staring at the crisscross of welts on the boy's back.
"Paulus...this is your usual method of punishment? Or has he been flogged 
since?"
"Yes, indeed. I do not coddle my slaves, Lucius. I am sure it will heal in 
time." Paulus shrugged and waved the boy's scars away.
Lucius shook his head. It looked as though an ox whip had been used on the 
boy. Even in his household the children did not see the bite of such 
punishment.
"I suppose it was a shame to damage such a fine specimen," Paulus reasoned 
with a sigh.
"Indeed," was all Lucius could say as he returned to his seat. "Paulus, if you 
wish to continue, I will take my leave," he said.
"Don't be silly, Lucius! I brought him here for you, not I!" Paulus grinned as 
the General glared.
"Do not lose your temper, my friend..." He was smiling at the fire-laden glare 
the General was giving him. "As you yourself have pointed out, I am only too 
aware of how you choose to take your pleasure...but I have also seen how you 
watch this boy..." he said, waving to Nicky, frozen still in the middle of the 
scalding bath. "And I must admit, Lucius, that you were indeed right...he is 
trouble, and too much so for my household to handle. So, I would like to give 
him to you as my birthday gift to you. You may do with him as you wish."
Lucius stared at his friend. Then he shook his head.
"Paulus, you are a unique and extremely irritating man. You are aware of this 
fact, are you not," Lucius sighed, amusement pulling at his lips.
"Absolutely!" Paulus exclaimed, grinning like a madman.
Nicky smiled as he looked to his grandfather.
"But what if I do not want him?" Lucius asked.
The moment he saw the boy's smile drop, he knew he was resigned to taking the 
boy home with him this evening.
Nicky stared, close to tears as his grandfather voiced the question.
"I will sell him on," Paulus stated.
The men relaxed back in silence as Nicky stood waiting.
Nicky began to frown. Well? Did he want him or not?
Lucius stared at the boy, seeing the emotions and thoughts flitter across his 
expressive blue eyes.
"Nicolus. Go ready my horse," he ordered.
End part 5
Part 6
Grus watched the young Barbarian cling onto the General's waist as the pair 
rode off, a billow of dust sending them on their way. Why the boy thought he 
would be better of with such a man, he didn't know. He had seen for himself 
what the great General was capable of doing to his slaves. Grus spat in the 
direction of the retreating soldier and turned back to disappear inside the 
stable.
Nicky grasped his arms around his grandfather's waist as they cantered the 
road to the General's home. Nicky had never been there before, but he had an 
idea where it was. Grus had shown him during one of their journeys into town. 
It was nightfall by the time they entered the Aurelius estate. Before they 
neared the main house, the General halted his horse and ordered Nicky to get 
down.
"You will walk behind me from here. I have no wish to have the household 
gossiping about things they have no knowledge of," he said.
Nicky understood. He didn't want to be known as the General's 'prot‚g‚' 
either. He was relieved to find out his grandfather was not into taking boys 
for his pleasure like some of the noble men were. Though he was a little 
surprised about his grandfather and Paulus. He wondered if he and his dad had 
ever...
"Pick up the pace, boy, if you wish to eat before you sleep tonight," the 
General said, interrupting his thoughts. Nicky sighed and began to trot beside 
his new master's horse as he rode into the main compound. 
A stable hand rushed forth and quickly took the white horse from the General's 
hands.
"Julius, take the boy with you. See him to his quarters." 
Nicky watched, a little disappointed, as his grandfather did not look back as 
he strode into the warmth of his home. With a sigh, Nicky followed after the 
young man.
They entered the stable, easily equal in size to Paulus' large dwelling. 
"You the boy the General saved from the forum, ain't ya?" the young man said 
as he began tending to his master's horse. Nicky moved to fill a bucket with 
water, helping him rub the animal down.
"I guess," he answered. 
The older boy nodded, and together they silently tended to the stallion, 
before Julius led Nicky into the slave's quarters and showed him to an empty 
cot where he was to sleep.
Nicky was woken by Julius. The young man thrust a bundle into his arms as he 
sat up in his bed, bleary-eyed. Nicky looked down into his hands.
"You are to care for them yourself. They will be all you get until they are 
replaced," Julius said.
Nicky unraveled the new linen tunic, and wrapped within, a pair of brand new 
sandals.
"The master expects us to look our best at all times. You will wash yourself 
everyday and your clothing if required." He went on. "Do not leave the estate 
without permission, or you will be flogged. Do as you are ordered or you will 
be flogged...never be late for your duties..."
"Or I'll be flogged...yeah, yeah, I get the picture," Nicky finished wearily.
"You will go to the stables when you have eaten," Julius said, his lips pursed 
at the ambivalent attitude of the young boy. The blonde boy looked up.
"We get to eat first?"
"Of course. How are we expected to work well on an empty stomach?"
Nicky smiled. Maybe the stories about his grandfather weren't all that 
accurate.
Nicky spent the next week learning his new duties. They were basically the 
same as what had been doing, but there were certain ways of doing them that 
needed to be learnt in order to keep the stable chief happy and his leather 
strap on its hook beside the door.
Nicky had only experienced a single stroke on the behind with it once when he 
had been a few minutes late for work one morning. Lomus had waited by the door 
and had struck him as he had walked inside. The other workers had laughed as 
he shrieked and danced away from the middle-aged man.
"See you are not late again, or it will be two!" he had said firmly, thrusting 
the strap in Nicky's direction.
Nicky had quickly got to work and had managed to be early every day since.
"Julius?" Nicky asked as the two boys sat on their milking stools, steadily 
filling their pails.
"Yes?"
"Does the General ever come in here?"
"Sometimes. He will come and look over his horse," Julius told him, without 
looking up from his work.
"His birthday is in three days, isn't it?" Nicky asked. Julius did glance up 
this time as he said,
"Yes. He is having a party to celebrate. Everyone is going to be there. I hear 
even senator Flavious is going to attend." Julius was obviously excited about 
the gathering.
Nicky smiled. He had been working on a gift to give to his grandfather. It had 
taken him every spare hour to make it. Lomus had helped him a little, teaching 
him technique and lending him the tools. But today he had almost finished it. 
Now, all he had to do was sneak in the house and give it to the General.
When the evening of the party had arrived, all the house slaves had been 
brought on duty to tend to the numerous guests. Nicky and Julius were kept 
busy taking horses and chariots into the stable as they arrived at the main 
doors.
When all the guests had arrived and the festivities had been going for several 
hours, Nicky had the chance to go to his quarters and retrieve his gift. 
Kneeling on his cot, he carefully unwrapped the object from the cloth 
protecting it from damage and prying eyes. The dark wood almost shone in the 
candlelight. Nicky had spent hours oiling it. The wood was wonderfully rich, 
and it looked perfect.
He stroked the spread wings of the carved eagle. It had been a true labour of 
love. It had taken many failed attempts to get it the way he wanted, or to not 
have the wings snap off...but finally he gazed upon his gift with a certain 
quiet pride. He owed Lomus much for all his help. Quickly wrapping it back 
into the cloth, Nicky rose and carried it with him back into the main house.
After a quick look around to make sure no one was about, Nicky snuck inside 
and down the hallways to the main banquet hall. He just wanted to make sure 
the party was still in swing. And upon poking his head around the next corner, 
he could see that it was. Nicky then headed down another passage which he knew 
led to the General's private office.
He had thought he would just leave the gift on his desk and sneak back out 
again. 
Nicky carefully entered the darkened room, a single light from an adjacent 
room spilling a soft light into the office, providing just enough light for 
Nicky to see by.
Quickly, he approached the desk and set the small carving in the center of the 
marble table.
"What are you doing here, boy?" a deep voice demanded from behind him. Nicky 
spun about and pressed his back against the desk.
"I...I..." Nicky stuttered. Suddenly this all seemed like a stupid idea. His 
grandfather stood before him, silhouetted in the doorway to the next room. 
Nicky tried to hide the gift behind him, not wanting the General to see it. 
After all, he was just a slave boy, and the General was not his grandfather 
here.
"What are you hiding, child?"
"Nothing," Nicky breathed. It was no use. Lucius stepped forward and moved the 
boy aside.
On his desk lay an object wrapped in cloth.
"What is this?" he asked him firmly, his voice quiet. Nicky cringed. His 
master expected an honest answer and would settle for nothing less.
Nicky fidgeted for a moment.
"It...it...is a gift...for you," he whispered.
"For me? And why have you brought me such a gift?"
"It is your birthday," Nicky said.
Lucius stared at the bowed head of the child before him. The child was 
nervous, that much was obvious. Slowly he took the object into his hand and 
began to unwrap it. When the carving appeared, the eagle's wings spread before 
him in triumph and power, he just stared. It was rather good even though it 
was obviously made by an amateur. He found himself running his fingers over 
the carved feathers.
"You made this?"
Nicky nodded.
"It is quite beautiful," Lucius said. Nicky felt a rush of joy and pride swell 
his chest, and he let a small smile slip over his lips.
Lucius laid a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave him a small smile.
"My guests shall be leaving soon. You had best return to your duties," he said 
softly.
Nicky nodded and turned to walk from the room. At the door, he stopped and 
turned back.
"Happy Birthday, General," he said with a grin and quickly disappeared.
Lucius huffed a chuckle and smiled as he looked again at the carving in his 
hands. It was the best gift he had received, and probably the most sincere. He 
sat back against his desk and felt a twinge as his thoughts drifted to his 
adopted father, Marcus. At a similar age to the slave boy, he recalled 
crafting a trinket for his father. It wasn't half as good, but Marcus had held 
and cherished it as though it had been made by the greatest artist in all of 
Rome. Lucius had thought he had been humoring him...but now, as he held the 
carving in his hands, he realized that he had not. Sighing heavily, he set the 
carving down on his desk and returned to his guests. It was time to throw them 
out.
End part 6
Part 7
"Nicolus!" 
Nicky shot upright in his bed and blinked rapidly as he desperately tried to 
focus.
"Nicolus!"
Nicky threw back his blanket and quickly threw his tunic over his head and 
slipped into his sandals. Without tying them, he ran outside.
"There you are, boy!" the man exclaimed urgently. Nicky looked confused. He 
wasn't late--the noisy old crow hadn't even woken yet.
"Quickly! The master has summoned you to journey with him," Lomus said as he 
bent to tie the boy's shoes.
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Why? I do not know, and I will not ask," the large man said.
"Come, he is waiting. You have a long journey ahead."
"Where are we going?" Nicky asked as he trotted alongside the long strides of 
his overseer as they headed toward the front of the main house.
Two horses waited for them. The General's own pale steed scraped the ground 
impatiently with his hooves, and a smaller, brown mare called Floss stood with 
the calmness of an older beast with a more placid temperament. 
Just as Lomus quickly lifted Nicky to sit in the mare's saddle, the General 
himself came striding from the house.
"Thea, make sure the inventory is completed on my return," he told the round 
woman bustling along at his side, struggling to keep up.
"Yes, master."
Reins were thrust into Nicky's hands.
What am supposed to do with these?! he thought, panic beginning to rise as he 
realized he was expected to ride...by himself.
"Um...Lomus..." Nicky turned in his seat to the man standing at his side. The 
large man chuckled silently. The older man had suspected as much. 
Nicky hadn't a chance to say anything else as the General kicked his horse to 
a trot then quickly into a canter. Nicky's horse followed without any 
instruction other than the slap on its rear from the stable chief.
Nicky hung on for dear life. Floss cantered obediently after the General's 
stallion, and Nicky grasped the animal's mane in his hands as he was taken for 
a ride.
The torture seemed to go on for eternity until the General finally slowed his 
pace to a walk and looked back over his shoulder. It was just in time to see 
his slave boy gallop past.
Nicky looked back at the General. Oh god! How do I make it stop?!
"Stop, Floss!" he said in English.
"Whoa...you stupid animal!!" 
Floss did not speak English.
Lucius was surprised as his slave went on by, clinging madly to his mare. 
What was the boy doing?
Lucius watched for a moment more as the boy shouted at his horse to no avail. 
He sighed. The boy had no idea how to ride.
Kicking his horse back into action, he raced after his wayward servant.
Nicky was just thinking about jumping off the stupid animal when a hand 
reached out and took his horse's bridal. The larger white horse of the General 
brushed against his leg as the horses began to slow. The General pulled them 
both to a halt and watched as the boy panted heavily.
Nicky eventually looked up at his master.
"Thank you," he breathed. "I thought she was never going to stop."
The General stared at him for a moment, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Boy, have you no idea how to ride at all?!" he blustered. Nicky dropped his 
gaze and shook his head.
Lucius sighed again and rolled his eyes.
"Why did you not tell me earlier!"
"How could I?!" Nicky said, throwing his hands in the air before he could stop 
himself. He quickly dropped his gaze again as the General's eyebrow shot up.
The General decided to ignore the outburst and dismounted his horse.
"We shall rest and eat," Lucius said as he came over to Nicky's horse and 
opened the pouch across the animal's flanks. He pulled out a small bundle of 
food and returned back to sit beneath a tree, seeking shelter from the hot 
sun.
"There is a stream over there." The General pointed in a vague direction. 
"Take the horses and water them," he ordered. Nicky carefully slung his leg 
over the horse's neck and clumsily dropped to the ground. Sighing with relief 
at touching solid ground, he took up the horses' reins and led them over the 
small rise and let them guzzle the water beyond for a few minutes before 
leading them back to where the General was resting.
Nicky sat down a few paces away from his grandfather and watched him eat. He 
sighed and turned his attention to the countryside around him.
"Here," the General said. Nicky looked toward him in time to catch the cloth 
bundle his grandfather tossed him. Unwrapping it, he smiled as the bread and 
cheese within was revealed. He hungrily bit into the bread and ate it all as 
quickly as he could without choking; his master would wish to be away as soon 
as he was done.
Swinging back up onto his horse, Lucius turned to wait for his slave to do the 
same.
Nicky grabbed the saddle with both hands and tried to lift his foot up high 
enough to step into the stirrup, like he had just watched his grandfather do. 
He was about a foot short of the mark. There was no way he was going to do it 
that way. In the meantime, his horse had moved around in a circle, and he was 
kept hoping after it as he tried again.
Lucius jumped from his horse and grabbed Floss to steady her.
"Hold here and here," he instructed him impatiently. Nicky quickly did as he 
was shown.
"Push up here. Do not try to reach the stirrup until you are up. Now jump."
Nicky held on and jumped, pushing his knee against the animal to further lever 
him up. He naturally swung his leg over its flanks, and he suddenly found 
himself sitting in the saddle. He smiled.
"To command her to go forward, kick her here. To turn, pull this way or that 
way. To stop, pull it back and say, 'Whoa!' Do you understand?" the General 
asked quickly as he held the reins in his hands. Nicky nodded, and Lucius 
passed the leather straps to him.
He stepped back to inspect the boy. Stepping forward again, he tapped Nicky's 
legs forward and closer to the beast and pushed on his lower back, forcing him 
to sit up straight.
"When we return home, you will be instructed on how to ride. I will not look 
the fool by my slave boy who can barely sit upon a horse without falling off," 
Lucius said as he swung up into his saddle again.
"Yes, master," Nicky murmured, a little crestfallen from the displeased words.
"Come. It will be close to nightfall by the time we arrive in Herculean."
His master rode ahead at a sedate pace, resting the horses for a while longer.
Nicky sighed and kicked his horse as his grandfather had shown him.
Nothing.
"Stupid, god-damned horse! Would you GO!!" Nicky was frustrated beyond belief, 
and he kicked the animal again...and again.
Up ahead Lucius chuckled as he listened to the boy. Lomus had been rather 
cruel to give the boy a stubborn mare such as Floss. Without looking back, he 
let out a loud, piercing whistle.
Nicky suddenly had to grab for the horse's mane and hang on as the horse began 
to walk forward.
The General whistled again, and the horse began to trot. Nicky began to bounce 
madly, hanging on tightly, as he was almost bounced off.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," Nicky said as the thumping rhythm began to hurt his 
bottom.
As he came up to the General, smirking at his discomfort, the mare slowed to a 
walk, and Nicky sighed loudly in relief.
They walked for a while in silence until the General asked Nicky,
"Where do you come from, boy? I have not heard your tongue before."
"Ah. North, sir."
"Yes, I gathered that. Where north?" he asked impatiently at not getting a 
specific answer.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Nicky muttered under his breath.
"Brabant," he said louder.
"Gaul," Lucius said.
"Yes."
They continued in silence, and feeling more comfortable on his horse, Nicky 
slipped his feet from his stirrups and sat cross-legged upon its back. The sun 
was still high in the sky, and he began to relax for the first time in a long 
while. Softly he began to sing.
Lucius turned back to see the sight of his slave lounging upon his horse, 
making tunes he did not recognize.
He shook his head. This boy had to be the worst slave ever...He suspected the 
child did not think himself a slave at all. At least he was capable with his 
chores, or so the stable chief had informed him.
"General, do you like going to war?" Nicky suddenly asked as they plodded 
along. 
Lucius turned back and frowned slightly. The child stared back as though he 
expected an answer to his unusual question.
"Of course. It is my duty to Rome to battle those who threaten her dominion," 
he answered.
"I've never been in battle," Nicky said thoughtfully. "I think I would be 
scared. Does getting stabbed with a sword hurt?"
"Yes, Nicolus. It hurts."
"Have you ever been stabbed?" Nicky asked. He really was interested. His 
grandfather didn't used to talk about this stuff.
"Of course. No brave soldier ever escapes without the wounds of battle."
"Did it hurt?"
Lucius turned in his seat again to look at the boy behind him.
"Why do you ask such questions?" he demanded. Nicky shrugged.
"I just wanted to know what it was like, that's all," he said quietly.
Lucius sighed turning back to face the road ahead.
"Yes, it hurt."
"Can slaves join the legion, General?"
"No."
"Oh." Nicky sounded a little disappointed.
"Battle is no place for children, Nicolus," the General said quietly.
"I guess not," Nicky said. At least they didn't have bombs and guns in this 
time. He began to think about what he would do if he were never to return to 
his own time. He might like the army...
"Can freed men join the legion, master?"
"Yes, child, they may." Lucius turned again to glance over his shoulder at the 
boy trailing behind, staring off into the distance, lost in thoughts of 
joining the greatest army of all time.
"I think I would like to be a soldier, grandfather," Nicky said absently.
"What is the meaning of this 'grandfather?'" Lucius asked the boy.
Nicky looked a little startled. But the General was waiting for an answer.
"Avus," he murmured, dropping his gaze. Lucius balked slightly.
"I am not that old!" he defended.
"I know...but you remind me of him...Forgive me, master," Nicky amended, 
keeping his eyes fixed to his hands.
"You may call me General...nothing else," he stated firmly, yet with a tone of 
softness he did not usually grace a slave with. He did not like the boy 
calling him master...it felt wrong.
Nicky smiled slightly as he realized what the man had just said.
"Yes, General."
The sun was indeed setting as they rode into the small town of Herculiean. 
They came to a halt outside a large building with a tall and stunning bronze 
statue of Aphrodites at the front entrance. They continued around the back of 
the domus, which Nicky had quickly surmised was a brothel, a grand and 
prestigious brothel, but a brothel nonetheless. Several men came staggering 
down the stairs as they passed by, and as the darkened alley gave way to a 
courtyard and quieter rear entry, the General slid from his horse and motioned 
Nicky to do the same.
"Take the horses to the stable and tend to them. Go to the slave quarters for 
your meal. They will take care of you there," Lucius quietly instructed his 
slave.
"Yes, General," Nicky said and took the soldier's horse and led them over to 
the nearby stable.
Having tended to the horses and filled his belly as best he could from the 
slaves' kitchen, Nicky wandered back outside into the stable courtyard where 
they had first arrived.
Lights shone from within the brothel, and he smiled crookedly as he thought 
about what his grandfather was doing in there. He stood in the darkness 
opposite the discrete entrance his master had disappeared through. 
After a time, his mind wandered. It was pulled back to the now and then, when 
a small child, a toddler, came staggering through the door. Using her hands to 
climb down the two small steps and out into the courtyard, the child promptly 
sat down on the dusty ground, gleefully clutching handfuls of dirt in her 
hands.
Nicky smiled, and waited for her keeper to follow...but she never came. A good 
few minutes later, the child was still outside alone.
Looking around, Nicky moved forward and crouched in front of her. The baby 
looked up and beamed.
"Sale," he said to the blonde, slightly chubby child.
"Sawe," she returned in her toddler-speak, not quite managing the intricacies 
of sounds yet.. Nicky smiled and sat down beside her.
"My name is Nicolus," he told her, pointing to his chest.
"I Diva," the little girl replied proudly, mimicking his gestures. Nicky's jaw 
dropped. Divia? No way! But the more he stared at the baby playing in the 
dirt, the more he recognized the pale blue eyes and proud chin. A small, sad 
smile curved his lips. This was the daughter his grandfather had fallen in 
love with...and no wonder--she was delightful.
Divia climbed to her feet and trotted over to the garden where a circle of 
white marble pebbles were decorating the soil in amongst the flowers and 
bushes. With both hands, she grabbed a fistful of the stones and brought them 
back to where Nicky was sitting watching her.
"Play, Diva!" she demanded, placing the stones in Nicky's hands. He chuckled 
as he gladly adhered to her wishes. 
They played for some time. Divia clapped her hands and laughed as he got on 
his hands and knees and barked like a dog. She stood next to him as he bounced 
about whoofing, and she slapped him on the back and barked herself, 
encouraging him.
Several minutes later, Nicky had Divia by the hands and was twirling her about 
as she screeched and laughed.
"Divia!" a sharp voice startled Nicky, and he brought the little girl in his 
hands to a halt. She was dizzy and giggled as she wobbled and fell over. The 
woman in the doorway came striding forward and grabbed Divia roughly by the 
upper arm and pulled her to her feet. The child looked up at her with fearful 
eyes. The woman then raised her free hand and slapped Nicky across the face. 
He frowned and clutched his face as he stepped back out of reach. The woman 
was finely dressed, her robes lined with a delicate flower embroidery.
"What are you doing, slave!?"
"We...we were just playing," Nicky stuttered, shocked at the actions of the 
irate lady. She was very pretty, her dark hair held high with sparkling gold 
pins.
"You will not touch my daughter again! Is that clear?!" she yelled.
The commotion had drawn a small crowd of onlookers into the doorway. Almost on 
cue, his grandfather pushed his way roughly to the fore.
"Is that clear, boy?" the woman repeated sternly. Nicky looked from his master 
to the woman and back again. The General raised an eyebrow and ordered calmly,
"Answer Lady Seline, Nicolus." Nicky parted his lips and swallowed, then 
turned back to the fuming woman, still holding her young child uncomfortably 
by the arm.
"Yes, my lady," he said softly, bowing slightly as he did so.
"Be sure you do not forget," she spat before turning to the brothel and 
marched inside, dragging her young daughter along behind her.
Nicky watched his grandfather as the man curled a lip at the woman's coarse 
handling of his daughter. There were too many spectators for him to exude his 
influence as father of the child. Common knowledge was not good enough reason 
for neglecting his caution in that regard.
He turned back to Nicky and crossed his arms. Nicky bowed his head and 
murmured.
"She came out by herself. We were just playing..."
"Keep your distance from Lady Seline, child," he said, almost gently, as the 
crowd dispersed. Nicky nodded, then realized that he hadn't reinforced 
Seline's demand to keep away from Divia.
"Go and sleep, boy. You will not be needed tonight. We will leave at dawn."
"Yes, General," Nicky answered and turned on his heel to gladly go and rest 
his head in the stalls with the horses.
End part 7
Part 8
CLANG! CLANG! CLASH! CLANG! SWISH! CLASH!
The two swordsmen grappled as they came together, testing the other's 
strength, muscles rippling and sweat dripping as they strained against each 
other.
Paulus pushed his opponent away and thrust forward. But it was deftly blocked 
and countered.
Lucius smiled as his friend stumbled.
"Come now, Paulus! Are you getting old?!" he badgered.
"No older than you, General!" the darker man bantered as he brought his sword 
down in a flurry of strokes, pounding ruthlessly against his General. For a 
moment he gained some ground, but just as quickly the tables were turned and 
he lost it.
Lucius had always beaten him...ever since they were children. A natural 
soldier was their great General...
As their parries became less laboured, Paulus looked over toward the fence of 
the arena as something caught the corner of his eye. He spied a curious pair 
of eyes avidly watching them.
"It looks as though we have a crowd to entertain," he said lightly, grinning 
as the General maneuvered the battle to take a look himself.
"So it seems," he said, looking the boy over as the child eagerly observed 
their sparring.
He pulled away, suddenly dropping his sword tip, bringing an immediate end to 
the engagement. Paulus dropped his also and nodded his head in acknowledgment.
Lucius turned to the where the slave boy was leaning. The boy had apparently 
noticed he had been seen and was attempting to scurry away.
"Nicolus!" the General boomed.
Nicky halted abruptly and winced before turning back to his grandfather.
The General was waving him over.
Oh no. He was supposed to be cleaning out the stalls...but he had heard the 
swordplay and just 'had' to come and look for himself. Now, he was in trouble.
Still, he quickly scurried to the General's position at the center of the 
horse arena, which the General also used as his practice area. There were 
shields and dummies against the railing, and in the stable he kept several 
spears and old training swords, all of which he had eyed with great curiosity 
and awe.
Nicky came to a submissive halt, just out of reach of his master.. The General 
stepped toward him and clapped a hand upon his shoulder.
"Paulus. Young Nicolus here wishes to join the Legion when he comes of age," 
the man said, almost proudly in his obvious good spirits. Paulus huffed and 
smiled.
"Is that so? Perhaps, Lucius, we should see if he is fit to carry a sword into 
battle?"
"Indeed." Lucius grinned as he came behind Nicky and took his arms in his 
hands. He guided Nicky's hands onto the hilt of his sword. 
Nicky smiled. He couldn't help it...this was so cool.
"Here, hold it in your hands thus...Do not strangle the sword, just hold it."
Nicky relaxed his hands a little, and the General let go. The sword tipped 
almost to the dirt as its weight surprised him. His grandfather held it so 
easily.
"It's heavy," Nicky said.
"You will grow," the General replied matter-of-factly. "Move your feet apart 
and balance your weight....Good."
Nicky listened and did everything he was told. The General showed him how to 
block a downward stroke, a cross blow and to thrust, moving Nicky's arms as he 
clutched the sword.
"Do you feel the movement?" the man asked as he held the boy's hands in his 
and guided the motion. Nicky nodded as they repeated the moves several times, 
gracefully swishing the sword threw the air. Paulus looked on with amusement 
as the pair seemed to forget he was there.
"Enough...it is time to see what you have learnt!" the pretentious man 
announced loudly, moving before Nicky. 
The General stepped back, and Nicky gave him a slightly startled look...he was 
suppose to fight Paulus?
"Just do as you have been instructed, Nicolus," Lucius said as he crossed his 
arms and looked on as his friend playfully engaged the boy.
He was pleased. The boy stood well...athletic and intelligent in his ability 
to learn the movements quickly.
Nicky hesitated for a moment, and Paulus took that moment to clang his sword 
against his own, almost knocking it from his hands, trying to intimidate him.
Nicky wasn't sure what to do. He couldn't fight...he played hockey! Nicky 
almost laughed at the hypocrisy.
Paulus clashed swords again, this time causing Nicky to stagger under the 
blow. Nicky moved, stepping sideways as he crouched slightly, instinctively 
ready to do battle. When Paulus struck again, he blocked it as he was shown.
"Good," Paulus said, backing off a little, but the circling continued. He 
struck again, this time a little differently, but Nicky managed to block him 
again.
Lucius smiled slightly. Paulus had hoped to make his mark on that one, he was 
sure.
The soldier moved again, deftly avoiding Nicky's feeble block and drew the tip 
of his sword across Nicky's arm. Nicky winced as he moved away out of reach 
and watched the blood rise and trickle from the fine cut. Then he frowned. 
That wasn't very fair. Nicky couldn't help but feel his infamous temper rise. 
His grandfather had always berated his quick furor, and his mother for giving 
it to him. Before he knew what he was doing, Nicky swung his sword at Paulus, 
who jumped back and blacked the swift blow. The soldier was still smiling 
though. His years of experience made even this raging child a mere annoyance. 
Nicky swung again, and again, forcing the man backward until he finally backed 
right away and held up his sword.
"I surrender!" Paulus laughed, and Lucius came up behind Nicky and restrained 
his next swing.
"I think you have shown us enough of your combative prowess for one day, 
Nicolus," he chuckled.
They were laughing at him!! Nicky glared. He handed over the sword.
"I will be a great soldier! You'll see!" he said fervently as Paulus continued 
to chuckle.
Lucius' smile fell, though his friend's grew. The General raised an eyebrow 
and evaluated the child before him. The boy did indeed show the signs of a 
warrior...perhaps he would free him and sponsor his induction into the Legion 
when the boy became a man...but until then...
"Nicolus, return to your work," he ordered calmly. His tone hit Nicky like 
ice-water, and he took a deep, calming breath before answering.
"Yes, General."
"And Nicolus..."
Nicky turned back to his grandfather.
"Lomus will begin your riding instruction at dawn tomorrow...Do not be late."
Nicky smiled.
"Yes, General!" He then bounded off back to the stable where he was sure to be 
slapped for leaving in the first place.
Nicky accompanied General Lucius back to the brothel many times over the next 
few weeks. Most days they would reside at the General's inner city domus. 
Pompeii was a beautiful city. There were temples everywhere, statues, 
gardens...everything a wealthy man could ever desire.
He had begun his regular riding lessons with Lomus, and he was feeling much 
more confident in his saddle now. Still, he didn't look as natural as his 
grandfather.
Once again they were residing at the house in Pompeii itself. His grandfather 
had been entertaining important guests from Rome as well as managing the 
finances of his business ventures. Nicky discovered he owned a vineyard 
outside of the city as well as several estates which were dedicated to 
agriculture and other such endeavors. His grandfather had always been an 
enterprising and wealthy man.
Often, when the General was in the city for a length of time, Lady Seline and 
Divia would often come to stay with his master overnight, or sometimes for 
several days. Nicky didn't like Seline. She was harsh and quick to anger, 
always in a bad mood. But most of all, she was mean to Divia. She would drag 
her everywhere and always leave her with her nursemaid to care for. Nicky 
never saw her hold or talk to the child in anything other than a brisk, 
impatient tone.
It was one of these times that changed the course of everyone's 
life...forever.
Nicky was taking a pile of sheets to the master's bedrooms when, as he passed 
by the atrium, with its small fountain and bright mosaic, he stopped to watch 
Divia play at the water's edge. No one was watching her, and Nicky didn't like 
to leave her by the water with no supervision, so he sat down on one of the 
benches and waited for the nursemaid to discover the child was missing and 
come for her. It had happened enough times before that, he and the aging round 
slave who cared for Divia had come to an unspoken agreement to keep an eye on 
the child together.
The nursemaid's tasks involved not only caring for Divia, but also the affairs 
of her mistress, and Seline was a demanding and unforgiving woman, so the 
nursemaid's attentions were often divided, thus the young child's means of 
escape.
He chuckled as she dipped her hands in and splashed water over her tunic and 
hair, the painted gold fish on the bottom delighting the baby. Divia had been 
playing for some time now and was thoroughly soaked. Nicky was about to gather 
her up and take her back to her makeshift nursery when her mother came 
bustling into the sunlit atrium.
"Divia! What are you doing?! You silly child!" Nicky watched as the woman 
grabbed Divia by the arm so hard and yanked her to her feet that the little 
girl began to cry. What the woman did next spurred Nicky into action before he 
had even realized the consequences of his actions.
Seline slapped the child across the face.
"Stop that weeping, girl!"
Nicky shot to his feet, his pile of sheets falling to the floor, forgotten.
"Hey! Don't do that!" he yelled, moving toward the pair. Nicky was frowning as 
he strode across the space between them and came to a halt a few feet from the 
scowling woman. She looked to him in angry disbelief.
"Be gone, Barbarian. This is none of your concern!" the woman spat.
"Don't you hit her like that...She's just a baby!" Nicky returned vehemently.
"What is going on here?" Both Nicky and Seline turned to see the General 
striding toward them.
"This...slave boy...dared to tell me what I could and could not do to my own 
daughter. I want him gone, Lucius!" she snarled, looking back to Nicky, who 
bravely glared back. "Look at this insolence, Lucius...he is good for nothing 
but the stables!"
"At least the goats aren't as ugly as you!" Nicky spat before he could stop 
himself, he was so angry.
His grandfather's hand slapped across his face so hard it sent him to the 
floor. He lay there holding his face, staring up at the General. He could 
taste blood in his mouth where his teeth had grazed the inside of his cheek. 
With tears streaming down his face, Nicky leapt to his feet and pointed a 
raging finger at Seline.
"She just did that to her!" he yelled to his grandfather then quickly turned 
and ran for the door and out to the stable where he hid in a stall with the 
goats and cried into the hay.
"Seline? Is this true?" Lucius asked the woman before him, and noted the tight 
grip the woman had on the child sniffling her tears.
"You would believe a slave boy?" she asked snidely, and before he could 
respond she said, "And what business it is of yours, Lucius?"
"She is my daughter," he replied quickly, glaring at the tone and look of 
disdain in her eyes.
"If you wish to pronounce her as your own, then so be it. But until then, 
Lucius, I am the girl's mother, and what I say, and do, is law!" With that, 
she dragged the sobbing child away and from the room.
Lucius snarled. He had no choice but to allow Seline to speak to him in such a 
manner. He was a fresh, new General, and to have spawned a child from the 
loins of a whore would greatly endanger his career. Taking several deep 
breaths to calm himself, he spun on his heel and strode out of the house and 
to the stable arena to bash the hell out of a practice dummy for an hour.
>>>>>>>
Jordan and Natalie watched as Lucien became more animated. Both he and Nick 
had been lying there unmoving until now, and although Nick had yet to move, 
Lucien had began to writhe a little upon the bed, his features creasing into a 
frown.
"Nat, what's happening?" she asked, staring at her husband.
"I don't know. Maybe he's coming out of it?" she replied. Both men had been 
unconscious for almost four hours.
The women still had absolutely no idea what had happened to cause them to fall 
unconscious in the first place, but for whatever reason, it couldn't be good.
<<<<<<<<
As Nicky cried, he wished himself adamantly to return home repeatedly. He said 
it so many times, he thought his heart would burst. The prickly straw clung to 
his tunic and hair, and the goats began to fuss about him, no doubt wondering 
why their human was here, making such noise, well before milking.
Lucius threw his sword to the ground in disgust. The tip had broken, ending 
his violent outburst. He had destroyed the dummy, landing brutal blows, 
severing the arms and head from the wooden tool designed to hone the thrust 
and blocking skills of a soldier. He stood still and closed his eyes for a 
moment, breathing deeply as the sweat trickled down his face.
He should really find the boy and make sure he was all right. He had hit him 
rather hard. Still, the boy knew better than to speak in such a manner. He 
sighed.
Probing the discarded sword with his foot, he pursed his lips, then bent down 
to retrieve it. The blacksmith could most likely make a new blade for the old 
hilt. Sighing again, he turned and made his way to the stable to place it 
where the blacksmith would find it later.
Nicky had finally stopped sniffling, and the goats had settled down to sleep 
once more. The sun was almost down now, and the air was beginning to chill. 
Goosebumps crept up his arms and legs as he huddled into a tighter ball. He 
started slightly and lifted his head as a wave of dizziness swept over him.
He opened his eyes wide and realized it was the same feeling he had before he 
had woken up on the dock. Would he go home now? His thoughts were interrupted 
by another stronger, wave and he found himself closing his eyes as sleep 
overcame him.
Just as Lucius entered the stable, a flash of blue light drew his attention to 
the stall housing his goats. He walked the long corridor of stalls and entered 
the small, straw laden pen. He frowned slightly, then huffed in confusion as 
the goats bleated franticly. He glanced about the area and half-heartedly 
kicked at the piles of straw and hay, seeing if anything was beneath them. 
There was nothing. Shrugging his shoulders, he huffed, and turned to walk back 
to the entrance and place his sword upon the blacksmith's bench. With a last 
glance toward the goat pen, he shook his head and left.
>>>>>>
Nicky slowly opened his eyes. He then sat bolt upright. He was in his own 
room! His own bed! His own time!
He looked down at himself. He was still wearing the ancient tunic and worn 
sandals. He ran his hand down the rough fabric and frowned in confusion. How 
could he be still wearing this if it had just been a dream?
He started when the door to the lift crashed loudly, and his babysitter let 
out a yelp of surprise.
 
Jordan jumped back as Lucien suddenly sat up and bared his fangs. She thrust a 
bottle to his lips as his blood-red eyes signaled his hunger.
Lacroix gulped the blood and waved for another bottle, upending that, too, 
before sighing and turning his attention to the two women staring at him. He 
turned to his right and the form of his son still lying, motionless, upon the 
bed.
"Lucien, are you all right?" Jordan asked, stepping closer as she sensed the 
return of his control. She felt his forehead, as though for a fever, but he 
shook his head and pushed her slightly away.
"Yes, I am fine," he snarled. Nick began to stir, slowly waking.
"What happened?" he slurred, trying to sit up. Natalie handed him a bottle, 
but he seemed in no rush to down its contents.
"That's what we want to know," Natalie prodded, sitting on the edge of the 
bed.
Lacroix swung his feet to the floor and pushed himself up. Jordan steadied him 
as he stumbled.
"Lucien?" she asked again, beseeching him for answers.
"Jordan...I do not know. I must go," he said suddenly and pushed away from her 
to stagger to the door and down the hallway.
"Where are you going?!" she called after him. Has he gone insane?
"The loft," he stated a moment before he moved with vampiric speed down the 
stairs and out into the night.
Both women turned to Nick.
"Don't look at me. I don't know a thing. I've been asleep," he said 
defensively. Natalie sighed as she stepped in to take his bio-readings again.
"Well, something happened, Nick. You fell unconscious at the wheel of the 
caddie, and Lacroix during his broadcast. That tells me something happened. We 
just don't know what."
"Is Nicky all right?" he asked, a tone of urgency hardening his question.
Natalie and Jordan glanced at each other. They hadn't thought of checking 
Nicky. Natalie berated herself for not making sure he was all right sooner as 
she sighed and shook her head. She should have thought about him. She knew he 
was linked to his father and grandfather, but she had been so worried about 
Nick...
"Come on. That's where Lacroix was headed," Jordan said, gathering her coat 
and making for the door. Nick and Natalie were close on her heels.
 
Lacroix sensed the presence of a mortal within and realized that Nicholas' 
caregiver was in the living room. Bypassing the skylight, he entered the lift 
and waited impatiently as it slowly took him to his grandson.
Nicky was crying. He didn't know if he was happy, sad or angry. It was all so 
bizarre. He sat on his bed and quietly let the tears run, then his grandfather 
was suddenly in front of him, standing in the doorway.
 
Lacroix held his hands up to the girl as she quickly stumbled to her feet as 
he hurriedly exited the lift.
"Sit," he said calmly, exuding a small amount of will, and she hesitated for 
barely a moment before sinking back onto the couch.
Without missing a stride, he entered his grandson's bedroom. He froze in the 
doorway.
The child was just as he remembered him from his dream...even down to the 
slaves tunic he was wearing. It was obvious now that something far more than 
just a dream had occurred, and at this moment, the child before him was 
distraught. He shook himself into action and stepped forward to sweep the boy 
up into his arms and hold him tightly against his chest.
"Nicholas. Forgive me. It is all right, you are safe at home now," he 
whispered, his voice attempting to calm not only the boy.
He closed his eyes as the memories, now fresh in his mind, came rushing to the 
fore. He recalled the events after the disappearance of the slave boy he had 
taken a liking to, had even though of making his son. He had ordered search 
parties to find him, thinking he had run away. But his men had come back 
empty-handed. The boy had simply vanished.
He had recalled being disappointed, perhaps even angry and a little betrayed 
at the boy's leaving his house, but he had also felt that he had helped to 
drive him away. 
This was something he felt he had repeated again and again throughout his 
life, especially with his own son.
The events of that day with Seline and Divia had led on to more poignant 
events. He had demanded she treat Divia well. Seline, in her stubborness, had 
refused, and so he had substantially cut the generous allowance he had been 
giving the woman. As a result, or punishment, if you will, she barely allowed 
him to see his own daughter, a circumstance which surely contributed to the 
girl's notion that he did not love her.
Eventually, the boy in his arms calmed and quieted, and he lay him upon his 
bed, but when he went to move away, Nicholas called out to him and clung to 
his shirt. With a small sigh, he lay down beside the child and held him until 
the boy fell asleep.
This was where they found him. He was asleep alongside Nicky, both sleeping 
the sleep of the undead. No one had the heart, or gall, to wake the pair, and 
silently withdrew from the bedroom, closing the door behind them.
Natalie parked herself into a chair, gently rubbing her swollen stomach, still 
feeling out of breath from her short run and a good measure of guilt about not 
being concerned sooner for her step-son's well-being. 
"Jordan, why don't you take the guest room...I'm sure Lucien will like to see 
you tonight," Natalie said to the woman standing, seemingly at a bit of a loss 
in the middle of the living room.
"What the hell happened tonight, Nick?" Jordan asked, ignoring or not hearing 
Natalie's offer.. Nick sighed.
"I don't know, Jord. But you can be sure that Lacroix will be telling us all 
he that knows tomorrow. You can be sure of that," he said with a determination 
to solve this riddle. He had felt little after he had initially felt the 
separation from his son and master, and from what Natalie had told him on the 
way to the loft, Lacroix had been as much affected by this strange occurrence 
as he, and perhaps, too, his son. But he had lost the mental link with his 
sire as he lay in the induced deep sleep he had been forced into, completely 
unaware of what else transpired around him. 
It was all very strange, and only when he has spoken to Lacroix and his son, 
would he have any idea of what the answers to his many questions may be.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat," Natalie announced as she 
waved a hand at Nick to help her get to her feet. Once up she said, "Jord, the 
guest room is made up. Why don't you call Vachon and tell him to drop Liam 
over here before sunrise?"
Jordan nodded and lifted the phone as Nick scooped his wife into his arms and 
flew her to the landing above.
With Vachon on his way, Jordan crept to Nicky's bedroom door and peered 
inside. It warmed her heart to see her husband and his grandson sound asleep, 
their arms protectively holding the other close.
"Goodnight, guys," she whispered. "Sweet dreams."
 
 
The End
 
End part 8