Aurelia stood on the stands amongst the screaming crowd, watching the spectacle on the sands below them. She had come to this dirty and poor excuse for an arena wrapped in a dark shawl so that no one would recognize her. And while she took no pleasure in watching men fight to the death, she knew that business had to be done.
In the arena, two figures circled each other warily, grasping at their weapons readily to strike at any moment. One gladiator was bare shirt, wearing nothing save for a loin cloth. He had an impressive physique, and Aurelia noted the way that his muscles bulged and flexed as he gripped onto his spear, jabbing it at his opponent cautiously. But the one that Aurelia had come here to watch was the other gladiator, who was nothing more than a child.
He wore a ragged tunic and wielded two light daggers, using them to parry and block each thrust of his opponent's spear with blinding speed. Aurelia thought that the boy was indeed as ferocious as they said, resembling more a wild animal than any sort of human being. Suddenly, a cloaked figure moved beside Aurelia, and immediately she knew who he was. "That's the boy?" Atticus asked, referring to the red haired boy. "Yes," Aurelia confirmed. "He is a Celtic boy, captured last year after his tribe ambushed Roman forces in their jungles.
Amongst the attacking forces he was the youngest of them. His current master saw great promise in the young boy and bought him to become a gladiator. Since then, he's made his master a very rich man." "What is his name?" "Brandan." The two disguised figures stood quietly for several seconds, watching the show below them.
The gladiator with the spear had begun to press the attack now, using his reach advantage wisely as he tried to corner his young opponent.
The boy did try to fight back desperately, but did not seem to be able to escape the older gladiator's attacks as he was pushed back effortlessly.
"I have to say that I am so far very unimpressed." Aurelia frowned. "His reputation far exceeds the capabilities I have observed thus far. Perhaps this was just a waste of time." "Patience," Atticus chided. "A warrior is strongest when desperate. The fight is not over yet." Just as he said that, the crowd cheered as Brandan was kicked heavily in the chest, slamming him into the arena walls and knocking all the breath out of him.
Aurelia watched with a grimace as the boy desperately parried a strike from the older gladiator's spear, only for the bigger man to follow that up with a strike from the weapon's shaft that struck the boy clean in the temple. Aurelia sighed as the boy crumpled to the ground, seemingly unconscious. The crowd roared for blood as the older gladiator raised his arms in triumph, basking in the roaring crowd's praise.
"He is finished." Aurelia shook her head disappointedly. "I apologize for wasting your time, Atticus. Perhaps we should just head toward-" But Aurelia was interrupted as the crowd suddenly erupted with wild roaring.
She quickly glanced back down at the arena, surprised to see that Brandan had managed to regain consciousnesses in time and slide his dagger down across the older gladiator's forearm as he reached down to pick him up.
The gladiator's howls of pain was drowned out by the crowd as he dropped his spear, clutching at his mutilated arm. Brandan slowly got to his feet, holding both daggers in each hand, and Aurelia could see from here the fury and anger in those eyes.
"Now, we can leave." Atticus said contentedly, as he turned and stalked away. "The boy is everything we expected. Handle the transaction with his master, and I will meet you in Galilee." Aurelia took one last glance at the boy as he began to ravage his opponent's defenseless body with his daggers, and smirked as she walked away.
Yes, this boy would do. While Aurelia was sure that the boy's master would be reluctant to let such a ferocious little gladiator boy go, she knew that all things could be done with money. •••••••••••••••••••••••• The early morning was well known to draw out fishermen to the markets, and today was no different.
Aurelia was pushed and bumped as she and Atticus stood watching the family of four from afar. "You are sure this is him?" Aurelia asked. "It's been a long time since you've seen him.
How do you know you have managed to trace the right person?" "Have I ever been wrong?" Atticus said simply. "I have led you on this quest for months now, and not once have I ever given you reason to doubt me. Why do you doubt me now, Aurelia?" Remaining silent, Aurelia continued to watch the family. Amongst the crowd, the family stood out very well. Most were here to buy and sell, and none usually came with their entire family to the market. But this one man had been known by the locals to make it a habit.
He was a Galilean fisherman, who arrived at the market every morning at seven to sell his fish. He would bring his wife and two children to accompany him, and while he did his business his wife would entertain the kids, playing with them.
The boy was older, about fourteen years of age, while the girl seemed to be about five. Aurelia bit her lip as the sound of their laughter rang out through the marketplace. They seemed happy together, it was a pity that their happy family had to be broken up like this.
Had Atticus not deemed the boy necessary, Aurelia would have chosen another. Eyeing the boy as he played with his younger sister, Aurelia watched as they dribbled a homemade ball, only for the little sister to accidentally smack the ball too far. "I'll get it!" The boy yelled. The ball came bouncing toward the two cloaked figures, and Aurelia watched as it came stopping right at Atticus's feet.
The cloaked man bent over to pick it up just as the boy arrived, and Aurelia got a good look at him. He stood just about five feet two, about slightly below average height for a boy his age, and he had brown hair that were a little too long. Locks of his brown hair fell over his chocolate eyes as he stopped right in front of them.
"Hi," The boy grinned. "I'm sorry for disturbing you with the ball, we were playing and my sister hit it too hard. Can I have it back?" His face hidden away under his cowl, Atticus smiled. "There is no problem. What is your name, boy?" "Adam," The boy smiled as he took the ball back from Atticus.
"Adam," Atticus repeated for a moment, and then laughed. "How low will you sink, Quintus? To take a local name as your own? Even after what you did, I would never have expected this of you." Lifting the cowl over his face, Atticus revealed himself to the young boy, who gasped in shock as he dropped the ball.
"Don't run." Aurelia whispered harshly at the wide eyed boy. "Stay where you are, if you want your new 'family' to be safe." Quintus looked to her and then to Atticus in disbelief. "H-How did you find me." he managed to ask. "Fool, we never lost you." Atticus snarled, stepping forward menacingly.
For the entirety of the time Aurelia knew Atticus, this had to be the first time she had seen him display any type of emotion at all. "If I had wanted it, I would have tracked you down the moment you ran away and brought you right back to Rome." Atticus paused, as if suddenly struggling with his words.
"But what did it matter then?" He asked, and his voice was hoarse. "You already ruined everything with what you did, getting you back and taking revenge was not going to change anything." Quintus eyes Atticus suspiciously. "Then why now?
Why find me now, two years after I left?" "Because now, I need you for something else, Quintus." Atticus put a hand on the young boy's shoulder. "Because I need something to be done, that nobody else can do.
Because I have never trusted in anyone's abilities as I have trusted in yours." Atticus seemed to mean those words genuinely, and for a moment Quintus hesitated. "We were going to have everything, Quintus. With you, I would have had Rome at my fingertips. But instead you ran away. Instead, you forsook everything I taught you, everything that I did for you, and for what?
To live the rest of your life as a Galilean fisherman? You may have been born to a servant of mine, Quintus, but you were born Roman. You are, and forever will be Roman. Join me, stand by my side again Quintus, and we will finish what we started." Aurelia watched as Quintus looked up to Atticus, and then back to his family.
"And if I refuse you?" Quintus asked defiantly. "If I tell you that I have no idea what you're talking about, and return to my family?" Atticus glowered at the boy darkly. "Make no mistake, Quintus. I did not come here to ask you to return. You are coming back with me, whether you want to or not. And if your family gets in the way, they too will suffer." Quintus balled up his little fists. "You can't do that.
My family, they haven't done anything to you." "But you have, haven't you?" Atticus leered. "Or need I remind you of the Praetorian you murdered during your escape? Why, the army could have just been coming back to arrest you when your new family decided to make a fuss, giving them no choice but to slaughter every one of them mercilessly." He paused as he eyed the happy family. "Even the little girl." Tears welled in his eyes as Quintus realized the hopelessness in his situation.
He knew surely that there was no escape from this, and his back had been pressed against a wall. Glancing back to his newfound but short lived family, Quintus turned back to Atticus and Aurelia as the tears began to fall on his face. "Alright," He said. "I'll go with you." And so, the three figures left the marketplace, disappearing into the crowd. All that was left of Quintus when his family came to look for him soon after was his ball.
•••••••••••••••••••• Aiden awoke with a start as he felt an elbow dig deep into his side.
"Sorry," A voice said from beside him. "Just couldn't stand you leaning on me while you were asleep any longer." "W-What?" Aiden asked groggily as he rubbed his eyes, only to wince as he touched his temple.
Suddenly the boy remembered everything that had happened. Waking up in Ancient Rome, being tricked by a beautiful woman, and the huge man that came in and knocked him out. And the worst part was that this hadn't turned out to just be some sort of strange dream, like Aiden had hoped. He had already woken up, but was still stuck in Ancient Rome. Groaning as he clutched his throbbing head, Aiden looked around.
He was still naked, and inside some sort of wagon, chained to the floor. Aiden felt his heart racing. What was this? Some sort of human trafficking ring? He had read about such things back in his time, about how people were kidnapped and sold into brothels or to do manual labor.
Had he really only been able to survive about a mere hour in Ancient Rome, before being trafficked? There was also people with him in the wagon, also chained. Two boys, to be exact. The boy on his left had been the one to awaken Aiden, and was now staring at him with a look that Aiden could not decipher. "I said you were leaning on me." The boy said again.
"While you were sleeping. So I woke you up." "Oh. I'm sorry." The boy simply shrugged. He seemed to be about Aiden's age, with cropped fiery red hair. His eyes were a sparkling hazel, and his skin slightly tanned from time out in the sun.
Something that Aiden found curious was the bruise on his temple, and he wondered if this boy had been taken in a similar fashion that Aiden had been taken. "That's okay." The red haired boy said. "It was just a little weird, because you're still. you know, naked and all that." Aiden's eyes grew wide as he suddenly remembered that he had been naked and asleep for all these other strangers to see.
Immediately, Aiden folded his arms across his bare chest and squeezed his legs together to cover up his growing manhood as his face grew red. The red haired boy began to chuckle at Aiden's feeble attempt to cover himself, only for the other boy to shush him. "Did you really have to laugh?" The brown haired boy asked.
Taking off the cloak that he wore draped around his shoulders, he offered it to Aiden kindly. "Here, use this." "Thanks," Aiden managed a weary smile as he took the cloak and wrapped it around himself. The cloak was old and it's inside was rough against Aiden's smooth skin, but he knew better than to complain. This boy was the first person to show him kindness since he's been here.
"What's your name?" The brown haired boy asked softly. "Aiden." He replied. "Aiden?" The red haired boy suddenly piped up. "That's a Briton name. Which tribe are you from?" "Tribe? I-I'm not from a tribe." Aiden frowned. "No?" The red haired boy leaned forward. "Then you're not a Celt?" Aiden shook his head. Honestly, he didn't know what that was, but thought better of asking.
"Well I am a Celt," The red haired boy struck his chest proudly. "And we Celts make the best warriors." "Every Celt I've ever met has felt the need to say that." The brown haired boy rolled his eyes. "Because it's true. Look at me, I've been fighting in the gladiator pits for less than a year, and already they want to bring me here to Rome!" "Y-You're a gladiator?" Aiden gasped.
Was it normal for boys his age to be involved in lethal combat in Ancient Rome? "I am, and a bloody good one." The red haired boy smirked proudly. "I've not been defeated yet, and I probably never will be. It's in my Celtic blood to fight." "Hey, but if you're not a Celt, then where are you from then?" The brown haired boy asked curiously, interrupting the red haired boy's bragging. "I'm." Aiden began to say, but paused. "Let's just say I'm from far away. You wouldn't know where it was if I told you." Both boys seemed to be amused by this, but did not pursue the matter further.
"I'm Quintus," The brown haired boy said. "And my name is Brandan." The red haired boy piped up beside Aiden. "Quintus. Brandan." Aiden nodded and flashed them a smile. "Nice to meet you both." He tightened the cloak around his naked body and turned to Quintus. "And thanks for the cloak." "No, worries." Quintus replied.
"Nudity is not a big issue here in Rome, but as I have learned from my time away, being naked can be quite embarrassing for people of other cultures." Aiden only nodded at that. Things sure were different here in Ancient Rome. "Where are we?" Aiden asked. "The last I remembered, there was this big man, and he knocked me unconscious." "That's Ganner." Brandan said. "He's going to be our new lanista." "Lanista?" "Yeah. You know, the man in charge of the gladiator school." "Gladiator school?" Aiden repeated in horror.
"That's where we're going." Brandan shrugged. Aiden's heart began to race again. A gladiator school? Here in Rome? That woman Aurelia had sold him as a slave to be a gladiator! Aiden knew that he wouldn't survive. These two other boys seemed tough enough, but Aiden was a 21st century kid, born into comfort.
He never knew what hard work was, and the life of a gladiator would surely be a very short life for Aiden. "I-I can't be a gladiator." Aiden said, his fear causing him to stumble over his words. "I've never held a weapon before, and I don't know how to fight." Brandan raised an eyebrow at this. "You say you come from a strange land far away, and you've made it all the way here but you don't know how to fight?" "No." The red haired boy smirked at this, but Quintus was more comforting.
"You'll be alright." Quintus tried to reassure him. "It'll be tough, but we'll look after each other." "Well you can count me out of that." Brandan scoffed. "I take care of only one person, and that's me. I'll do what I have to do to, and I won't let either of you get in my way." Their wagon came to a sudden abrupt stop, interrupting the boys' conversation.
Aiden listened as a deep voice thundered. "You, take this and show the boys to their quarters." Moments later, a feeble looking man appeared, holding some metal keys that jangled in his bony hands. He fumbled with them as he struggled to unchain the three boys from the wagon, muttering an apology almost inaudibly every time he accidentally let the keys scratch against their skin. "A slave." Quintus explained to a visibly confused Aiden.
"We've probably arrived at the gladiator school, and this is probably one of the slaves who help keep the place in order." "Oh." Aiden said as he felt the clasp if the chains fall off his wrist. The metal of the clasp had chaffed against his skin quite a bit, and he rubbed his wrists uncomfortably. "Heh. Look at him." Brandan chuckled as he watched Aiden. "He can't even stand the feel of chains against his skin." Aiden frowned at the snide comment, but said nothing back as the slave beckoned for the three boys to follow him.
Obliging, Aiden, Quintus, and Brandan hopped off the wagon and followed the feeble slave man as he shuffled away. On their way out, Aiden spotted the big man, Ganner, talking another man who wore a highly decorated Roman armor.
Aiden thought that this man was likely some sort of a general in the army, or something else of similar importance. "Yes, yes. Everything will fall into place on schedule, all we have to do is wait. He will come back to Rome when the time is right, we just have to wait." The other man began to speak, but Aiden felt a hand tugged at his shoulder. He turned back around, and saw the slave there.
"Please, it is better not to overhear the lanista's conversations." He said. "The punishment is quite severe, and I would not want to see anyone suffer like that on their first day. Please, let us just move on." Aiden didn't want to get punished here, not today, and not ever. Honestly, he just didn't think he'd be able to handle it. Punishments in his time involved spankings and maybe a hard snuck with a ruler to the butt, but surely punishments in Ancient Rome had to be far more brutal.
Casting one last wary glance backward, Aiden hurried off with Quintus and Brandan to be shown their quarters. ••••••••••••••••••••••• Brandan rolled his eyes as he watched Aiden hack away at the wooden dummy feebly.
Beside him was Quintus, providing encouragement and guidance to the strange boy who Brandan had begun to think was born unable to wield a sword.
They had arrived at the gladiator school, called a "ludus", two weeks ago, and at first, Brandan thought that things weren't so bad here. The quarters where the boys slept was actually just a single cell, separate from all the adult gladiators' sleeping quarters. They said that they had to put aside a separate cell just for the boys as the lanista did not want the adult gladiators to have access to the boys at night when nobody was watching, but that meant that Brandan, Quintus, and Aiden were all sleeping together on the cold hard floor of a cramped cell.
And after that, Brandan was introduced to the daily regime of the gladiators at this ludus. They woke up early and spent the mornings training, taking a break to eat, before training away the rest of the morning. They had the afternoons off then, and after that they would train at night time again. At first, the boys were trained separately from the men, and supervised by Ganner, but Brandan had managed to prove his mettle quick enough and joined the men in their training.
Quintus had also proven himself surprisingly effective with swords and moved up to training with the adults alongside Brandan. That had been before Ganner grew tired of supervising Aiden, however. Three days ago, Aiden was still having difficulty learning how to swing a sword properly, and the lanista told Brandan and Quintus that he was going to arrange for them to help teach Aiden how to properly use the sword to attack and defend during their free time in the afternoons.
Brandan was, of course, not pleased with this arrangement, as the gladiators had only very little time off, and every minute of their free time was precious. But there was nothing that Brandan could say to argue against the lanista, of course. He knew this already. And so, now instead of being able to take a nap, or have some alone time in his cell, Brandan was forced to sit here on the sands of the practice arena, listening to Quintus actually try to teach Aiden something.
"Why do you even bother?" Brandan groaned after finally having enough of listening to Quintus explain how to hold a short sword to Aiden. "Just let him hold the bloody sword and tell him to hit the dummy as hard as he can. It's not that difficult." "Just ignore him." Quintus said, passing the short sword to Aiden. "Here, take this, and keep trying. You'll get it right soon, I promise." Brandan watched as Aiden bit his lip and nodded. He could tell that the other boy did not believe in himself either, but was still trying his best.
"Quintus!" A voice suddenly called from behind them, and all three boys turned to look. It was Djumon, a Numidian gladiator who was waving at the boys. "The lanista calls for you! This way!" Brandan looked back to Quintus, and saw a curious look in the boy's eyes.
"What is it?" Brandan asked the Roman boy. "Nothing," Quintus replied, shaking his head as he started toward Djumon. "I'll be back soon. Aiden, just keep working on what I've taught you, alright?" "Okay." Aiden said, seeming unsure of himself.
Brandan scoffed at his insecurity. "If you don't even have confidence in yourself, how can you expect anyone else to be able to help you?" He asked.
"I'm trying my best." Aiden said, a hint of defeat in his voice. "But it's different for me. You wouldn't understand." "Well, I'd say you're only not getting it right because you aren't practicing it right." "Huh? What are you talking about?" "I mean, how can you ever get better at fighting with a sword, if all you're doing is hitting an inanimate object with a sword?" Brandan shrugged. "No, you'd have to practice with a live opponent if you wanted to get better at fighting." Jumping to his feet, Brandan picked up one of the many short swords on a rack.
"What are you doing?" Aiden asked. "Helping you." Brandan smirked, spinning the sword around in his hands. "I know I said that you guys were on your own before we got here, but the lanista did assign me to help you. And you're one of only two other boys here around my age, so I guess we're friends." Squaring up to Aiden, Brandan gripped the blunted weapon tightly.
"Come on then." Aiden glanced down at his own sword, and looked back up to Brandan with those unsure blue eyes. "No." He said. "Quintus said to continue practicing on the dummy, and that's what I'll do." "So you're too scared to fight me?" Brandan snorted.
"Come on, you don't have to be scared. I won't hurt you, I promise." "I'm not scared!" Aiden's face turned crimson as his pride was wounded. "Then prove it." Aiden still seemed hesitant, but what the hell. This was probably as ready as Brandan would be able to get him to fight. Lunging forward, Brandan feinted a stab at Aiden's shoulder. The more inexperienced boy fell for it easily, and over committed on his parry, leaving his entire midsection exposed.
Brandan brought his sword around in a full swing, striking at his stomach with the flat of the sword, causing Aiden to double over with a loud cry of pain. With his opponent at his mercy now, Brandan pressed the blunted edge of his weapon against the back of Aiden's hand and sliced it, drawing a yelp from Aiden and making him drop his blade. "My hand!" Aiden was crouched on the ground now, clutching his hand.
Brandan could see some red there, and knew he had managed to draw blood. "You slashed me!" "I disarmed you." Brandan shrugged. "That's how you win. And I won." Brandan eyed the groaning blonde haired boy closely. Even though he did as much as he could to remain distant from this strange boy outside of their shared cell, for some reason, Brandan found himself captivated by Aiden.
He had the blonde hair typical of the Celts, and yet claimed that he was not one of them.
How could this be possible? And it wasn't just their possibly similar backgrounds that captured Brandan's interest; many a nights, Brandan laid awake in their shared cell staring at Aiden's sleeping figure, letting his eyes roam over the other boy's slim and barely muscled figure. He did not know why, but Brandan felt a strange sort of attraction to the weaker boy.
And now, watching as Aiden clutched at his hand in pain, groaning and whimpering like a whipped puppy, Brandan could not help himself anymore. Stepping forward, Brandan towered over the other boy's defeated figure, reaching down to touch his face.
"Brandan? W-What are you." The blonde hair on Aiden's head was a mess, damp with sweat and matted on his forehead. The skin of his face was so fair and smooth, and was slicked with a thin layer of sweat. Brandan never thought of himself as homosexual, and was still very attracted by the opposite sex, but there was no denying that Aiden was very attractive. Allowing his hand to grasp a fistful of that beautiful blonde hairs, Brandon pulled Aiden's head toward his crotch as he began to undo his loincloth with his other hand.
By now, Aiden had understood what was happening, and began to struggle with Brandan. He was pushing away against Brandan's thighs, but this only made Brandan more excited as his four and a half inch cock sprang out, hard and erect. "Open your mouth." Brandan commanded, thinking now not with his head but with his cock. "N-No, Brandan wait-" As Aiden was saying that, Brandan pressed his cock forward, and Aiden's eyes went wide as the cock head slipped in between his lips.
While this had been something that he had wanted from the moment he laid eyes on Aiden's naked figure back in the wagon on their way here, nothing could have prepared Brandan for the pleasure he felt as his penis was engulfed by the warmth of the other boy's damp mouth. Brandan groaned in pleasure as he grabbed the golden hair of Aiden's head tight in his hands and pulled on the boy's face.
Brandan could feel Aiden's tongue sliding across his shaft and running along his engorged cock head, and he began to quicken his thrusts as he began to face fuck the other boy. This was the first time that Brandan had tried anything like this, having only experimented with his hands previously, and within a few minutes, he began to feel a familiar sensation building up in his little balls. Brandan began to thrust into Aiden's mouth even quicker as he desperately tried to reach orgasm.
Aiden, meanwhile, had begun to gag and make small choking sounds as Brandan forced his cock on the other boy, and this only helped to push Brandan over the edge. "Fuck!" Brandan felt his fist tighten on Aiden's head, possibly hurting him and pulling out some of those beautiful golden hairs, but he did not care. The orgasm that wracked his body was like nothing he had ever felt before, and his legs threatened to buckle as his body spasmed in pleasure.
As he felt the cum spurt from his penis, which he had only recently started to do, Brandan pulled Aiden's face all the way in so that his lips were pressed around the base of his cock, forcing the other boy to take all of his cum. "Mmph!" Aiden choked in surprise as cum shot down into his throat, and with Brandan holding his face firmly in place, Aiden was forced to swallow every last drop of cum. After several seconds of orgasmic spasms, Brandan finally felt the euphoria of orgasm subside and he began to loosen his grip on Aiden's head.
He looked down at the other boy and watched as he began to gasp for air as Brandan's softening penis slipped out of his mouth. There was cum dribbling down the corners of his mouth, probably the remains of whatever Aiden hadn't managed to swallow. Brandan smirked. He thought that Aiden actually looked kind of cute like this.
Putting his still damp penis back inside his loincloth, Brandan looked around him. The practice arena was normally quieter in the afternoons because they didn't have any trainings, but it was not completely empty. Right now there were still some of the older gladiators and slaves mulling about, and Brandan was sure they had seen what had happened. But it did not matter, surely they would see what he did as a dominating act against a weaker opponent, especially since he had beaten Aiden in a sparring contest first.
"Aiden? Brandan? What are you guys doing?" Brandan spun around and saw Quintus returning. Brandan glanced back to Aiden and saw that the other boy was wiping away the remaining traces of cum on his mouth. "I was just helping him out." Brandan shrugged. "Showing him how to fight for real." "You hurt him." Quintus frowned as he noticed the cut on Aiden's hand. "Just a little bit.
He had to learn sooner or later, right?" Quintus looked to Brandan and then back to Aiden. Aiden had not said anything since Brandan stuffed his cock inside his mouth, and actually seemed to be on the verge of tears.
"Well, whatever it is, listen to this. Tomorrow, the lanista wants to examine our skills in front of some very important guests." Quintus put a hand on Aiden's shoulder.
"Whatever happens tomorrow, just follow our lead. We'll make it out of this." Brandan shrugged. "Once again, I just want to remind you that I never agreed to anything. If you get in my way, I'll toss you aside." He paused, and looked to Aiden's anxious face, and a twinge of pity began to tug at him. "But whatever, we'll see what happens tomorrow." "Right," Quintus agreed. "For now we should all just get some rest." Walking away, Brandan suddenly felt a little tired.
He always got sleepy after an orgasm, and this time was no different. Maybe he'd go and take a nap until tomorrow morning, that sounded good. Then he'd be perfectly rested to face whatever challenge they had in store for him tomorrow. Glancing back once to the Aiden, he watched briefly as the Roman boy tried to chat with the blonde haired boy. Aiden was still not talking, no doubt still in shock with what Brandan had done to him, and the news that Quintus had brought them.
Suddenly, Brandan wondered why he had done what he did to Aiden, and began to feel guilt tug at his conscience. He did not hate Aiden, not at all.
The boy was just weak and Brandan was raised to despise weakness, but still he did not mean the other boy any ill intention. Should he have done what he did then? To force himself upon Aiden?
With these thoughts occupying his mind, Brandan turned away and shuffled back to his cell.