Unexpected

by Sistine

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ass/sistine/unexpect.php
Summary: One is a Roman soldier, the other a Celtic warrior. Circumstances bring them together in a time where life, if they are not careful, will be short-lived.
Info: This story has been sitting on my hard drive for a couple of years waiting to be finished. I thought it was about time I posted it so I've left the ending as it was!

Author's Notes: /Greek/ indicates Greek speech, [Brythonic] indicates the common language in Britannia, {Gaelic} indicates the speech used by the UiNeill clan. Latin was a common language spoke amongst the educated and the traders in the Roman world at that time due to the Greeks' far-reaching influences in that period. There are some conflicting reports about which language was the most prevalent in Roman times but for the sake of the story, I'm going with Greek being more formal and also for trade, and Latin for everyday use.
~~~

Eire, circa 400 A.D.

There are days when I really hate being a soldier. Going out and killing the people who lived on this land longer than we have, innocent people who have done nothing wrong expect be Celtic rather than Roman. Many of my fellow soldiers revel in the killing for reasons I can't fathom. But I don't. I would much rather be out among the people, learning their language and culture, and finding a way to co-exist.

However, my father disagrees. General Cassius Augustus, a descendant of Caesar Augustus' brother. This connection helped Father rise through the ranks of the militia quickly as nepotism rather than skill is the way to promotion. That is why despite the fact that I am a lousy warrior, I lead a century of men who are all older and have more experience than me. Father said it would be... character-building. I'd rather he let me build my character elsewhere.

Father doesn't like his men associating with the local Celts, which is why I'm sneaking back in tonight. I've been to a wedding in the nearby village, a mere two miles away. I often visit the village at night to hear their stories and to share some of my own. It is much preferable than to sleep in my barracks with the other men, listening to ribald jokes or rough pleasure.

"Augustus!"

How I hate that name. I turn to face the centurion, Maximus, as he strides over to me. The man, though of my rank, is much older and resents me for that fact. He is also Septimus' personal aide. "Yes?"

"General Augustus wishes to see you immediately," Maximus reports as he smirks at me. His eyes rake over my body and I'm not sure if he's seeing my native garb or my naked body underneath.

Stifling a curse, I quickly don my tunic and trousers before hurrying out of the room. I have learnt from painful experience that it does not do to keep Father waiting.

As I travel through the courtyard to my father's room, I wish that my life had turned out differently. If my mother had lived, she would have fought for me to become a scholar rather than a soldier but she died ten years ago when I was merely fifteen. Since then, my father has ruled my life with an iron fist, not even allowing me the comfort of finding a wife.

When I enter the room, I see Father talking with Gaius Septimus, who is visiting here from Rome. Father's hair is only just starting to turn grey, which means that he'll soon be too old to be in the Roman Army. That could be a good thing for me.

I'm not sure whether this is a formal meeting or not so I go down on one knee and bow my head with respect as I wait for Father to acknowledge me.

It is another minute before he does. "Rise, Daniel," is all he says, and the informality tells me what roles we are to act in.

"Yes, Father." I stand and lift my eyes to him, ignoring Septimus, whom I dislike. "You wished to see me?"

"You have never wished to be a soldier," Father observes as he casually walks over to me. His eyes are anything but casual though so I am wary.

"It was not my first choice," I choose my words carefully. He is planning something and I am not going to like it.

"I have recently discovered an opportunity for you to become a scholar," Father continues, unable to look me in the eye.

My heart starts to beat faster. What has he gone and done?

"All you have to do is become join Gaius Septimus' household in a personal capacity."

No. Blood drains from my face as I realise what Father is saying. "No. I will not do that." Gaius Septimus is the most pompous, violent man I have ever met, and his appearance isn't all that appealing either. Thinning brown hair on top of a fat face, beady brown eyes, and an overweight body is definitely not my type even if I were inclined to like men.

"Yes, you will," Father says, iron in his voice. He will not be moved on this.

Well, that's too bad because I'm not going to be moved on this either. "I would much rather be a soldier than a prostitute," I state coldly, wondering why Septimus is just standing there and letting me insult him like this. Also, I can't believe Father is ordering me to do this! This practice of prostituting sons to influential men may be fine in Rome but we're not there, and I'm not going to do it. Besides, once in Rome, I would be a catamite and they are the lowest of all the slaves excepting those who work in the mines.

"Gaius Septimus is a very influential man," Father starts to say in a low voice designed for my ears only.

"He is a very arrogant man who thinks nothing of killing his slaves for minor infractions," I interrupt, my hatred of the man heating my words. "And my guess is he thinks nothing of raping them either." A young slave boy in Septimus' service, no more than fourteen I would wager, was beaten to death in the middle of the night by the Roman man's bodyguards, supposedly for not shining the armour enough. But the rumours I heard say that the boy had been Septimus' catamite but hadn't yet learnt not to fight his master. There is no way I will willingly serve that callous old man.

Father slams his fist behind him onto the table, making me flinch; I know what his temper is like. "You will not speak that way," he orders sternly.

"I will speak how I please," I retort, not caring now to guard my words. "I don't care if you have me flogged for saying it but I will not be his whore!"

Father briefly glances over his shoulder at Septimus and then moves quickly. Although I see him coming, I cannot move away fast enough to protect myself. His fist crashes into my left cheek and sends me crashing to the floor, dazed by the blow. It isn't the first time he's hit me but never before has there been such anger behind it.

"You will go to him." Father's voice is cold. "I will not have my life ruined by a son who does not know his duty."

Ruined? I wonder how that would happen as I remain on the floor, glaring defiantly up at him. "And I would rather die than have a father who dishonours his name by selling his only child into slavery."

I couldn't have picked a worse insult. Father's eyes harden further and I know then that I've pushed him too far.

Septimus moves for the first time and comes to stand over me. "He is spirited, Augustus, you are to be commended for that. However, he is lacking the proper respect for his betters."

I bite my tongue though I want nothing more than to say that he is definitely not my better.

"I will teach him obedient behaviour on the way back to Rome," Septimus continues, a greasy smile sending shivers down my spine. "You can rest assured that if he pleases me, your gambling debts will all be paid."

So that's what this is about. Father is selling me to repay the debts accrued through gambling, probably with Septimus himself. Looking at Father, I would say there is a fair amount of fear mixed in too; Septimus obviously has painful ways of getting what he wants.

"He will behave," Father promises, glaring at me.

After a few moments, Septimus calls for the two soldiers who always stand guard a discreet distance outside the room. "Inform Centurion Maximus that I wish him here immediately," he orders one of them.

"Yes, sir!" Without even a glance at me, the soldier rushes to obey.

Father turns to the other one and orders, "Shackle him."

Stunned, I don't resist when I am hauled to my feet. How could Father do this to me! He is willing to treat his only child like a common slave all so that he doesn't become a debt slave himself! "Father, please don't do this," I implore him softly as my wrists are tied together with bands of iron.

"If he gives you any trouble," Father says to the soldier, "you have my permission to silence him."

"What?" I can't help exclaiming. "Father--" A cuff to the side of my head warns me not to say anymore. I can feel Septimus' eyes on me; I think he's enjoying my humiliation. He'd better enjoy it while he can because I don't intend on remaining his slave for long.

Not long after the shackles are locked around my wrists, Maximus enters the room. His gaze immediately finds me and he almost smiles. Turning back to Septimus, he states, "Yes, sir?"

"You will be personally responsible for Daniel during our journey," Septimus states.

"My pleasure," Maximus drawls, eyeing my body with undisguised lust. He has never made any secret about the fact that he wants me, something which he knows annoys me.

Septimus must recognise something in that tone too because he raises a hand to brush over my bruised cheek while keeping his eyes pinned on Maximus. My skin crawls at the touch and the only reason I don't move away is that I'm trapped between the two men. If I move away from Septimus, Maximus will be way too close. "Make sure he remains untouched," he orders, a hint of a threat in his voice.

"Yes, sir."

Father, finally acknowledging me again, comes over to stand beside me and grips my chin hard when Septimus' hand drops. "You will honour the bargain I have made or you will regret it." His tone leaves no doubt that he would be able to carry out that threat, even from a distance.

I swallow hard and look appealingly at him through the eyes that he often tells me remind him of Mother. "Please don't do this, Father," I beg softly. I would rather almost any life than the one he has sold me into.

"I have no choice." His voice is equally as soft so that neither Septimus or Maximus can hear the words. For a moment, I see regret in his eyes and then it is gone. "Fare well, Daniel."

I'm not going to give Septimus the satisfaction of seeing me struggle against my fate. But I'm not resigned - there is no way I will go to Rome. However, I may need some time to figure out how to escape.

Despite Maximus' quiet taunts as he leads me outside, I make no response; I will not help him humiliate me further. Fortunately, no-one seems to be around to witness my disgrace except for Septimus' entourage of twenty men, although rumours will no doubt spread quickly tomorrow.

Septimus - with some assistance - mounts his horse none too gracefully and then gestures that I am to ride on the horse that is situated behind him. The poor animal is tied by rope to Septimus' saddle, meaning that he has control. Swallowing my pride, I mount the horse and then stare straight ahead, refusing to look at anyone else.

Maximus mounts the horse nearby and then moves to ride at my side. I ignore him too but I can feel the amusement radiating off him. He just loves this, is just revelling in my humiliation. I think I'm going to be lucky if he doesn't try to force me at some point during this trip, even with Septimus nearby.

It takes everything I have not to show how much I dread that happening. Matings between men are not uncommon in the Roman army but I have never participated in such an act. Perhaps that is because my mother was a good Christian woman who believed that those kind of acts, simply for pleasure, were a sin; after all, she named me Daniel after one of the prophets in the Bible rather than a Roman name. Father, of course, gave me an official Roman name but Mother persisted and eventually won in that matter.

That isn't to say that I haven't noticed how attractive some men are, and on occasion I have wondered about what two men would do in bed, but I would never participate in such acts as it's a sin. I had been planning to find a woman, marry and raise a family - which, if I can't get out of this situation, will never happen.

****

The moon is high in the sky when Septimus finally orders his men to stop at a beach where a ship is moored. We have been travelling for several hours in the cold air of the night, and while it's alright for them with their thick cloaks, I'm only wearing a light tunic and trousers. Not exactly the best conditions for travel.

Maximus dismounts and then impatiently waits for me to do the same. Once I have done so, he leads me over to one of the trees and relieves himself; I look away as I don't really want to watch. When he is finished, he looks at me with impatience. "Well? Or are you going to hold on until we reach Londinium?" he goads.

Glad he can't see my reddened face in the moonlight, I awkwardly relieve myself - not an easy task with both hands shackled. I have a new appreciation of how difficult it is for slaves and provided I get out of this, I will treat any I meet much better.

Maximus, after watching me with interest, takes me over to the shore where Septimus and a small rowboat are waiting. Several of Septimus' guards are already in the boat, two of them manning the oars. Maximus pushes me into the boat, causing me to stumble and land hard in the bottom of it, then he boards more carefully. Septimus follows suit and sits down right next to me. The guards row us out to the Roman ship and then I am roughly hauled up onto it after Septimus climbs the rope ladder; the others follow.

On deck, Septimus starts giving orders and the sailors obey them. Then he turns to me. "You will attend me tonight."

"No, I won't." I'm sorry, Father, but I cannot do this.

Septimus looks over my shoulder. "Put him below the deck." His beady eyes come back to my defiant ones. "Perhaps a night down there will teach you a few things."

Maximus grabs my bicep, squeezing it hard, and leads me down below the deck. "Enjoy your trip," he says sarcastically as he basically throws me towards the floor. Then he climbs the short ladder out onto the deck and closes the hatch behind him, leaving me alone in the dark.

I curl up, favouring my right side which is bruised from being thrown against solid wooden floors. I'm numb inside, still in shock from the events which have turned my life upside down. A few hours ago, I was celebrating a local Celtic wedding; now I'm on my way to a country I don't know to be a slave to a man who has a penchant for young men and boys. How did things get so bad so quickly?

Not only that, but why did Father allow himself to be pushed by Septimus into selling me? I can't understand why he would allow himself to gamble so much as to lose everything, knowing what the penalty was, nor why he chose this way of repaying the debt. My bet would be that Septimus somehow cheated in order to set this up but it's doubtful I'll ever know for certain because he will never tell me. And once I get on the boat to Rome, I don't think I'll ever be coming back. That thought fills me with some regret because I had enjoyed learning about the Celts. I doubt that I will enjoy my stay with Septimus as it is likely to result in my early death - not a pleasant thought.

Still, there may be a way to get free of my captors once we reach Britannia; I just need a plan.

****

I still don't have a plan when the storm strikes some hours later - being here in the dark, I have no precise idea of the time, only that my stomach is growling with hunger. I try to brace myself as the ship flings me from side to side as it is rocked by the storm but I end up with many more bruises than I started with. The only thing I can do is try to protect my head because I don't really wanted to be knocked unconscious and left to die if the ship sinks or something.

After what seems like another hour, a loud crunching sound hurts my ears and the ship jerks to a halt. I'm thrown against the wall, my right shoulder hitting hard, and I can hear voices yelling above me. Suddenly the hatch is yanked open and Maximus pulls me out of my prison. Rain immediately pelts my face and body, stinging with its intensity, and the strong wind threatens to overbalance me. But Maximus presses on, taking me to the ship's railing.

"We need to jump into the boat," he shouts in my ear and it's then that I realise that the ship has been caught on rocks. The small boat, still miraculously tied to the ship, is bobbing in the water, pushed around by the large waves. Septimus is already in the boat, as is one of the guards, who waves up at Maximus. My bonds are unlocked and then Maximus pushes me towards the rope. "Get down there."

Arguing in the middle of a storm isn't a good idea so I obey. I climb down the rope as best I can and get into the boat. Maximus follows, as do several other guards. Then, without waiting for anyone else, Maximus cuts the mooring rope.

"Wait! You can't leave them there!" I protest. Those sailors, and the rest of Septimus' entourage, will have no chance if the ship sinks. There is a second small boat but not enough to hold everyone, and I don't know whether it has been wrecked as it is on the other side of the ship.

Septimus doesn't listen to me, he just orders his men to row faster. I can hear the shouts of the sailors as they realise that their only escape is disappearing into the storm. I don't know that our chance of surviving are greatly higher; this small boat could easily capsize and toss us all into the sea. Maybe I should just fling myself over the side and hope for a quick death. No; I don't want to die that way, not even to escape the fate that awaits me in Rome. Better to take my chances on land, should we make it that far.

Surprisingly, the storm abates not long after and I can see land from my position in the boat. I wonder whether anyone friendly lives there or whether I might end up the prisoner of the local tribe. In a way, I hope it's the latter because at least then Septimus won't be my captor.

I don't take a turn at rowing; I think Septimus wants me where Maximus can keep a hold of me. It takes the soldiers a couple of hours to reach land, by which time I estimate it's late afternoon. So given that we set sail before dawn, we've been travelling for at least twelve hours - much longer than I had thought but long enough to travel between Eire and Britannia. Not to get to our destination though, which is a relief. It gives me hope that I will never get there.

The soldiers beach the boat and Maximus - upon Septimus' orders - forces me onto the small strip of sand in this alcove where we ended up. My legs don't want to hold me up but I force myself to stand, determined not to let anyone see any weakness.

"We'll camp here tonight," Septimus orders his men as they pull the boat further up the beach so it doesn't drift out with the tide. His white toga - which is totally inappropriate for travelling - is dirty and soaked through. "You two find the firewood," he continued, pointing at the two men to his left and then at the two on his right, "and you two find something to eat." More of his entourage will be arriving in the second boat soon - if it wasn't wrecked - and presumably they'll set up the rest of the camp.

As the soldiers set about their tasks, Maximus binds my wrists with sodden rope that he must have brought from the ship; I hope the rope doesn't cut off the circulation in my hands when it dries. Does it constrict when dry or expand? I can't remember and I don't want to find out.

We take shelter under the trees at the edge of the beach and wait for the others to come back. Luckily for me, Septimus is too busy thinking to take advantage of the situation. As he and Maximus discuss the course of action to take next now that we're stranded, I sit down and let my body rest. I feel like I'm bruised all over and moving is going to really hurt for the next few days, and my wet clothes are making me shiver. Unfortunately, I don't think there'll be too many chances to rest which is why I'm making the most of this.

After more soldiers and some servants arrive - the second boat must not have been damaged - and the shelter for Septimus is built, a fire and supper are soon made, and I get a smaller portion of food than the others but it's enough to satisfy me for the moment. Then the others sit around the fire, drying their clothes and making plans while I stare into space and try to imagine what's going on back at the fort. Is Father having any regrets? Will any of the locals wonder where I've gone when I don't visit them again? What are the other soldiers saying about my disappearance? I hope the answer is 'yes' to the first two questions but I don't know what the third should be.

Eventually, the others stop talking. One soldier moves to stand watch while the other men lie down ready to sleep near the fire, their cloaks wrapped tightly around them as the night is cold. Septimus retreats to his shelter and as he does so, gives Maximus an order to guard me during the night; I assume he's too tired to force me into his bed at the moment.

With a lavicious grin, Maximus pushes me down next to one soldier, away from the fire, and then lies down beside me. "Sleep tight, slave."

The delight he takes in calling me that is apparent. I don't want to add to that but if I don't get warm, I'll die from the cold long before we reach our destination. So I swallow my pride and ask, "Can I please have a blanket?"

He takes a long time to think about it, so long that I believe he's ignoring me. I open my mouth to ask again but before I can say anything, Maximus snaps out an order for the soldier on watch to fetch a blanket. A minute later, a warm blanket drapes over me and I smile gratefully up at the man.

"Always knew you were a whore," Maximus comments casually. "Always batting those eyelashes and smiling that smile. Why your father thinks you're a virgin is beyond me."

I bite my tongue and turn away from him; I will not deign to grace such slander with a response. Also, I don't really wish to find out if he'll carry out his threat of taking me without my consent.

Fingers suddenly grip my shoulder hard, nails biting into the skin. "You're my ticket to freedom in Rome," Maximus whispers harshly into my ear. "If you play nice, Septimus will find me a girl so I can get married and become a rich man. If you don't, I'll sell you to the first slave trader I find in Londinium and then use the money to sail for Rome by myself. You'd better decide which option you prefer." The pressure on my shoulder eases and Maximum moves away from me.

It's a very long time before I fall asleep as visions of being a slave assault me for hours.

****

We start travelling again at dawn and keep going until night. Not a word has been mentioned about last night, for which I am grateful. I wonder what Septimus would think if he knew what Maximus is planning? Would he arrest Maximus or not? I can't be sure yet so I'll hold my tongue.

Several days pass in this manner, long hours filled with mindless riding and sporadic insults or lewd comments. Because they see Septimus treating me as a slave, the soldiers and even the servants do the same, and on the fourth night, I don't even get the blanket to keep warm with. Instead Maximus spoons behind me and makes lewd jokes until he falls asleep. I, on the other hand, sleep little because I'm afraid of what he might do.

The morning after, an hour or so after noonday, it starts to pour rain for the first time since we started our journey. With only a thin tunic for protection, I am quickly soaked to the skin.

Septimus suddenly stops his horse and gestures towards me. "Get on," he orders me.

Get up on the horse with Septimus? I'd rather walk. Because I hesitate though, Maximus gets off his own horse, pulls me off mine, and then virtually throws me onto Septimus' horse. I barely have time to right myself before he puts an arm around my waist and pulls me back against his flabby stomach. Then he extends the cloak around my body, giving me a small measure of protection against the rain. "You're worth nothing to me if you die," he comments as he collects the reins and starts the horse moving again.

How touching - at least he cares about my health... sort of. As we ride, I can feel every inch of his stomach and chest pressed against my back. Fortunately, his stomach is quite large and is probably preventing me from feeling if the proximity is making him hard; that's something I really don't want to know about.

The rain doesn't let up but we ride on. The men move back so that the horses are in single file, and it's at this time that Septimus decides to have some fun. He shifts one hand to grope my groin.

"Stop it," I demand quietly so that the others don't hear; not for his sake, but for mine because I don't want to be completely humiliated.

"Just curious to see how much of a man you are," Septimus responds, squeezing hard. "I'm impressed."

I lift my hands to strike him but his arm is in-between mine, preventing them from rising very far.

"Play nice, slave, or I will have you whipped," he threatens with a warning in his voice. The fact that he hasn't done that yet intrigues me given that I haven't shared his bed.

I realise that I'm in a very vulnerable position. Septimus could probably rape me right now and the others wouldn't know until it was too late. I bow my head submissively; I don't want to push him too far. Not yet, anyway.

"That's better," he comments as he gropes some more. "If you just relax, you'll find that you'll enjoy this."

Not very likely. After a few moments without a response, Septimus withdraws his hand and makes some comment that I don't hear because I'm suddenly aware that we're being watched. I don't know why the others haven't noticed - well, Septimus has been concentrating on other things. I turn my head slowly to the right and see a glimpse of movement in the woods. Someone is definitely out there.

There's no time to warn Septimus and the others before a wild shout sounds from the woods, echoed by many others, and then we are surrounded. At least a dozen warriors suddenly appear, their faces locked in snarls, and they rush us, their swords held at the ready.

The horses shy at the movement but Septimus keeps his under control. He wheels his horse around to face the attackers but he is hampered by my presence when the first man reaches us. The hand that holds the reins presses me tight against his body while the other wields a sword. There's nothing I can do except watch the battle unfold and hope that the natives win so that I am not taken to Rome.

With relative and surprising ease, Septimus dispatches two of the attackers, who are at a distinct disadvantage being on foot. But, I notice, that hasn't stopped the others from defeating the other Roman guards, who are all lying face down in the mud, as are the servants.

A third man approaches us and a jolt goes through me; this is the man who was watching us so intently. I don't know how I know that - I just do. He glances once at me with black eyes, his long black hair almost hiding them from view, and then he focuses on Septimus with a deep hatred. He is going to win this fight.

I think even Septimus recognises this because his sword shifts to press at my throat. "Move aside or this boy dies," he demands of the man.

Either the man can't understand him or he doesn't care about a stranger's life because he stands his ground. Or maybe it's because he does care because I've heard that the various tribesmen that inhabit this country would rather die than be slaves. Perhaps he assumes that I am the same.

Suddenly I hear a thud and Septimus' grip loosens. Slowly, he topples sideways from the saddle and it is then that I see the dagger sticking out of his back. I'm relieved that he's dead but apprehensive; what are they going to do with me?

Without a word, Black Eyes mounts behind me, one arm coming to hold me loosely to him. This makes me worried; I think I'm still a prisoner. He doesn't say a word as we travel along but I'm very aware of his presence. It's very strange; he makes me feel like I do when I'm attracted to a woman. I don't want to be attracted to him, especially since he could turn out to be my enemy.

"Almost there," he says in my ear later that day, and the warm air makes me shiver. He has a nice voice; it matches his looks. Because of that, I gather up the courage to ask how he knows the everyday language of Latin that all Romans use; Greek is mainly known by the educated, scholars and those who preach the words of the gods, although there is a less formal language in use amongst traders.

"I was once a slave for your kind," he replies curtly. "In Rome."

That's not good but it explains how he knows Latin. "Am I your prisoner?"

"For the moment," he replies, something unidentifiable in his voice. Is it amusement or something darker? "Unless you have something to offer me..."

I remain silent, not quite sure what to say to his invitation. He chuckles but doesn't continue the conversation. When we reach his encampment - a collection of tents made from animals skins - he dismounts and then helps me down. "Sorry for the accommodation but it's all we've got," he says as he escorts me into the biggest tent.

"That's fine," I reply, surprised when the man goes to sit on the wooden throne in the middle of the tent. I've been captured by a warlord; just great. "What is your name?" I ask boldly, unwaveringly meeting his gaze.

"Ioan the Mighty," he replies. "And yours?"

I suppose it can't hurt. "Daniel," I state.

"That doesn't sound very Roman," he comments, coming back over to stand in front of me. His black eyes inspect every inch of my face before travelling over my body.

"It's not." I don't really feel like explaining about my mother so I keep my answer short. "What do you want from me?"

"Something." He doesn't elaborate either. Ioan trails one finger over my bruised cheek, an action which sends a shiver through me. "You're very beautiful."

"I... what?" I can't believe he just said that. Why is everyone interested in my body at the moment?

"I think I know what you can offer me in exchange for your freedom," Ioan continues. "Have you been with a man before?"

"No." And even though something about Ioan attracts me, I still don't want to.

"Good. The first time is always the best." Ioan's smile makes me feel warm inside. I can't believe I'm reacting this way to him.

Turning my face away, my cheeks heating up, I ask, "And what if I refuse?" I have to know exactly where I stand.

Ioan's smile slips for a second before reappearing. "I haven't decided yet." He turns away from me and calls for a couple of his warriors. They arrive promptly, which means they probably weren't far away to start with, and gives them an order in a language I can't quite understand. It sounds similar to Gaelic but it's not the same.

One of them replies and then takes my bicep in a hard grip to escort me out of the tent. The other warrior follows closely behind.

The spare tent they take me to is at the other side of the encampment. On the way, I notice several men tied to large stakes in a circular formation. One of them in particular catches my eye. His greying blonde hair stands out amongst the dark of the others, and his brown eyes show no fear of his situation. A dark red line mars one eyebrow, showing that he has resisted his captors. His gaze meets mine and a frisson runs down my spine. Suddenly, I have the urge to go across to him and find out who he is.

My thoughts are rudely interrupted by the warrior who pushes me into the spare tent. It's a small space, probably only enough room for five warriors to sleep side by side. He says something to me that I don't understand before he leaves, unties my bonds, and I'm left alone.

Spying a pile of clothing, I get changed out of my wet clothes. Then I sit, knees tucked to my chest, and start thinking about Ioan and his proposal.

And the stranger with brown eyes outside...

****

Ioan returns after dark, a lit torch in one hand and food in the other. He puts the torch in an iron frame in the centre of the tent, rests the plate of food on the floor nearby, and then comes over to me. "Have you thought about my offer?" he queries as his fingers brush over my cheek.

"We barely know each other," I try to stall. Desire begins to rise inside me as he takes my hands in his and his thumbs caress my bare skin.

"Why should that matter? All you need to know is that I would treat you well and would never harm you unless you disobey me," Ioan states sincerely. He lifts one finger and brushes it over my lips. "I have never seen anyone like you before." There is wonder in his voice and it surprises me.

"I'm not anyone special." Certainly, my father doesn't think I am and neither do the men in the army.

"Yes, you are." Ioan hands me the plate of food.

I gratefully start eating while I contemplate his words. He wants me. A warlord wants me. Could this situation get any more strange? To take my mind of this turn of events, I ask, "Who are the prisoners out there?" Maybe I'll find out who the grey-haired man is.

"Britons," Ioan says with some distaste. "They were captured in battle."

"And what is going to happen to them?" I venture.

Ioan looks at me strangely. "Why are you interested?"

"The way a man treats his prisoners indicates what kind of man he really is," I reply, not wanting to give him the real reason - that I'm interested in one of them.

Ioan sits back and smiles confidently. "And how do you treat your prisoners, Daniel?"

"I try to treat them with respect." Not in front of Father though, as he would see that as a weakness. "If they're prisoners of war, then they were only fighting because they considered us in the wrong."

A raised eyebrow speaks of his amusement at that concept. "That sounds very forgiving. Many of those who oppose you would not give you the same consideration."

"I know." I got a taste of the way many Romans treat slaves over the past five days and I don't like it. "What are you going to do with those men?" I ask again.

"I haven't decided yet," Ioan admits - or perhaps avoids telling me the truth. "My usual policy is to kill them so that they can't kill me or any of my tribe."

A continuous cycle of violence. "And then their families come looking for revenge, they kill you, your sons kill them - where does it stop?"

"Interesting. A Roman soldier preaching peace." The amusement still hasn't left his face. "You are not so young or naïve to believe it is that simple, are you?"

I bristle at the insult. "I am neither. But I do believe in peaceful resolutions. Someone has to make the first move," I urge him.

His eyes darken and I shiver, this time in fear. "Anyone who tries to talk their way out of a fight is considered weak," he tells me flatly. "Warlords who are weak do not survive long."

Suitably reprimanded, I cast my eyes downwards. He sees me as weak, someone who can be easily conquered. I will not let him do that. "I will not accept your terms if those prisoners are killed." I lift my gaze again to his and see none of the previous warmth. It may be that I have just made a huge mistake but I cannot show him that I fear the consequences.

Ioan stares steadily at me for what seems like an age. He appears to be considering my counter-proposal, which gives me time to reflect on what I could be letting myself in for. All my protests to Father about being Septimus' bed-slave and here I am volunteering to fulfil that position for an enemy warlord in order to free a bunch of strangers who should also be my enemy. And I thought things couldn't get any more strange.

Finally, Ioan nods his head. "I will spare one of the prisoners and he will be my gift to you. But the rest must die or both of us will. You may choose which one will live."

I don't want that kind of power. How can I choose one over the others? My brain urges that I choose the grey-haired man but I ignore it. "That's not fair," I protest.

"It's as fair as you're going to get," Ioan states, his expression relaxing again. "In the morning, you will choose one man to be your slave or, as much as it pains me, you will join them." Ioan's voice is casual but there is strength behind it; he will carry out his threat.

"Please don't make me choose," I plead, hoping that the fact he thinks I'm special will carry some weight.

"Speak no more of this," he orders, frustration now coming through in his tone. "I will see you in the morning." Ioan stalks out of the tent, clearly displeased with me.

The image of the grey-haired prisoner pops back into my mind. Given his defiance, it is unlikely that Ioan would let me choose him but it might be worth a try. Then I might be able to help the man escape back to his family - if they still lived - and I would have been able to save one life. That, however, would hardly make up for the deaths of the others.

Slowly, I finish my meal though I have no appetite, and then curl up on a pile of skins which serve as a bed. How can I stop Ioan from killing those men without making it seem like mercy is a weakness?

****

The morning brings me no closer to an answer. Two warriors fetch me from the tent and lead me to a pit where it is obvious from the stench that it is used as a latrine. I relieve myself, then I am taken to Ioan's tent and forced onto my knees.

As I look up, I notice that Ioan has washed and changed into clean clothes. My groin twitches at the tight-fitting clothes that highlight his well-built body but I squash that reaction immediately; I don't want to be distracted right now.

"Good morning, Daniel," Ioan says pleasantly from his place on the throne. "Sleep well?"

"Reasonably." What little sleep I did get was good. "Ioan--"

"Would you like something to eat?" He jumps up and heads over to a small table, a bowl of fruit on top of it. "There is plenty of choice."

"I'm not hungry, thank you," I refuse. My stomach is twisting itself into knots because of what is about to happen to the prisoners. "Ioan, you don't have to kill them."

He brings a piece of fruit over to me and rubs it over my bottom lip. The juice trickles down my chin and I wipe it away. "You need to eat, Daniel. Trust me, everything here is delicious." He pops the piece of fruit into his mouth and then heads back for more.

"Ioan--" I try again.

"This is not negotiable, Daniel," he states without turning around. "You *will* choose because it is the only way to save the life of one of them."

I hate that he uses my wish for a non-violent solution against me, as well as the fact that I am choiceless in this matter. No matter what he calls me, I am still his prisoner. "I need to see them," I say, wanting to see if the older prisoner is still as compelling this morning.

"Of course. As soon as we have eaten," Ioan agrees. He holds out another piece of fruit, which I reluctantly take. It would probably be wise to start co-operating.

Ioan dismisses the warriors and then gestures for me to join him at the table. I do so and force myself to eat some more to please him. The food, though light, sits heavily in my stomach as I contemplate current events. Will Ioan kill the others straight away and force me to watch? Though I have seen many deaths on the battlefields, I don't like seeing men slaughtered. Those who do like such a thing are men to be feared because they have no soul.

"Before I grant one slave his life," Ioan suddenly says, coming to stand in front of me, "I must see if you are worth it." One hand comes to hold the back of my neck.

He's going to kiss me, I realise in shock as Ioan leans towards me. My body tenses and my heart races, uncertain whether this will be a good thing.

"Close your eyes, Daniel," he instructs and I obey. Then his lips touch mine and a jolt of desire goes through me. I don't want to be aroused but I can't stop my body's reaction as Ioan skilfully kisses me. I shouldn't be enjoying this. I should be disgusted yet I'm not.

After what seems like minutes, Ioan releases me. I slowly open my eyes and see arousal in his expression, his eyes full of lust. And though my mind may be adverse to what he wants, my body isn't.

"Very nice indeed," he murmurs. "You will be very suitable."

Shame washes through me as I am reminded of my status. This man is my captor; I should not welcome his touch at all.

"Do you give me your word that you will remain with me?" Ioan questions.

"Will you spare the other prisoners?" I counter.

"You know I cannot," he replies firmly. "Much as I might want to."

I turn away from him, guilt again twisting my stomach. To save one man, I must condemn others; that is not an easy thing to live with. Still, if I refuse, I save none of them. "I give you my word."

"Good. Let us choose then." Ioan takes my hand and leads me outside to where the prisoners sit, still tied to the stakes. The silver-haired man stares steadily at me, seemingly knowing what is about to happen. His eyes tell me that he is not afraid to die whereas his companions, when I look at them, are. There are three of them, all younger by some years, and who probably have young families at home. None of the men will probably see their families again but at least the one I pick might one day have that chance. I know I should pick one of them but...

Ioan comes to stand behind me, a hand resting casually on my hip to remind me of my promise. "Choose, Daniel."

My arms hug my chest as I look at each prisoner again, trying to decide which one should be spared. The younger men plead with their eyes but the silver-haired man doesn't, which makes me realise that he would be the most dangerous to keep alive - which may be the most beneficial for me. "Him," I say, nodding towards the older man and suppressing the guilt that rises inside me at not picking one of the others.

My choice startles Ioan. "Why? The others are younger and more fit than he."

"Then he should be less of a threat, shouldn't he?" I counter. Something about the older man intrigues me and I cannot condemn him to death.

Ioan's expression tells me he doesn't agree but he cannot go back on his word. He asked me to choose and I did. "Very well." He gives orders to his men in their language and the prisoner is released from the stake. The man's hands and feet are then shackled so that he can't run away. "Enjoy my gift to you," Ioan says in my ear before stepping away.

Enjoy his gift? I look at the man I have saved and am surprised to see empathy in his eyes. Somehow he knows what this choice is costing me.

I keep my eyes on him as metal slices through flesh three times; Ioan wastes no time in executing the others. My stomach churns with guilt at my failure in preventing their deaths.

Coming back over to me, his sword sheathed again, Ioan gently cups my cheek and speaks to me in the language his men don't understand. "I'm sorry but you know why it had to be done."

"Yes, I know," I say quietly. He has to be seen as a strong leader.

"The slave does not know your language so you will need to teach him as I will teach you mine," Ioan continues. "My men will treat you with the same respect as they would my wife but they will not hesitate to harm you if you go back on your word." Once again, there is a warning in his tone.

His wife? Shame again fills me as I truly realise what role I must play. That is worse than simply being a bed-slave. "Your wife?" I can't help echoing with some bitterness.

"My consort," he corrects me. His thumb brushes over my lip, which still feels swollen from his kiss earlier. "I already have a wife and have no wish to take another."

The fact that he's married shouldn't surprise me. "And what does she think about you taking a consort?" I have to ask.

"It doesn't matter what she says. It's none of her business." Ioan steps back and smiles at me. "You must want to freshen up. My men will take you and the slave to the river. You will need to dress in more suitable clothing," he muses. "I want everyone to know that you are a virgin." He turns, gives a crisp order to two of his men, and then he goes over to speak to the slave, whose eyes cannot hide their anger.

I watch as Ioan clearly outlines the rules for the grey-haired man. The older man's body is stiff with resentment, which I can understand; his people were just murdered in front of him. I hope Ioan doesn't notice how deadly this man could be because then my choice will have been in vain.

Two warriors, both bigger and more muscled than I, escort myself and the slave to the river. They seat the man on the small sandy shore, making sure that he is facing away from me. One of the warriors also turns his back while the other keeps his impassive gaze on me. Great, no privacy.

Reluctantly, I strip off yesterday's clothing and wade into the cold water. Because it's more of a stream than a river, the water only comes up to my thighs, which means I have to squat down to get my whole body wet. Turning away from the men on the shore, I scrub myself as best I can with my fingernails, needing to be clean. Once I have achieved that, I get out and the warrior hands me a large piece of cloth that I'm sure he didn't have a few minutes ago, so I dry myself. Then I dress in new clothing that has arrived as mysteriously as the cloth. Instead of the dark colours that the warriors wear, my outfit is pure white, marking me as special - a distinction I don't want. I wonder whether this is Ioan's or whether it has been specially made for these kind of occasions; somehow, I don't think I'm the first man Ioan has done this to.

Once I am dressed, the warriors take the slave into the river. Unlike me, he remains fully-clothed and they merely dunk him under the water several times instead for allowing him to wash. I want to tell them to cease their treatment of him but since I can't speak their tongue yet, I refrain.

When they bring him out of the water, I feel a surge of arousal. The man has a lithe body, emphasised by the wet material clinging to it, and for some reason I find it attractive. This shocks me; the last thing I need is to be attracted to someone else right now. What is wrong with me? I look away as they draw nearer, needing to keep my head clear.

One of the warriors grunts something and I am escorted back to the encampment. The slave - I must really find out his name - and I are taken to Ioan's tent. I am allowed to remain standing this time while the grey-haired man is forced to kneel, wincing as he does so; I wonder how many injuries he has?

"The first word you must learn is 'slave'," Ioan instructs me, using the Brythonic word instead of the Latin one. "You must address him as that all the time."

Dutifully, I repeat the word, vowing to only use it if I can't find out the man's name. I am then taught basic phrases such as 'bring me food' so that I can give commands.

When Ioan is satisfied that I have learnt them sufficiently, he allows me to shave and then he takes me outside to watch his men training. The slave is ordered to follow. It occurs to me that I haven't heard the man speak; I wonder if he cannot. "Is he mute?" I ask Ioan, gesturing towards the slave.

"Definitely not. He was very vocal when we captured him," Ioan replies. "I threatened to cut out his tongue and the tongues of his friends if he did not cease."

Oh. That would explain it then. Ioan stands beside me, one hand on the small of my back as we watch the warriors train. He is a strange mixture of gentle and violent but I know that latter side could be displayed to me if I don't do things right. And his point to me about escaping is well taken - his men are well trained and I wouldn't stand a chance.

I turn my head slightly to see the slave and I notice that he's watching the warriors with an intent gaze. Maybe he is learning everything he can about the enemy, planning to escape as well. If it's possible, I think I'll help him.

Ioan leans in to press his body against my side. "Do you think my men would be a match for your army?" he murmurs into my ear.

"It depends on how many were on each side," I reply truthfully. Given what I've seen, these men would be a match for at least two times their Roman counterparts.

He chuckles at my response. "And you're probably thinking that you'd like to test it out, preferably with your Roman army winning. Should I remind you that you were a captive of your fellow soldiers?"

That's not something that I need reminding of. I wonder how long it will take Father to realise that Septimus and I never got to Londinium, and whether he'll send out a search party? Given how keen it seemed he was on getting rid of me, he'll probably only do a search to find out what happened to Septimus. Otherwise, he might just declare me dead.

"I have to admit I'm curious," Ioan continues, his hand now shifting lower to rest just above my buttocks. "Why were you their prisoner?"

"I don't want to talk about it." His closeness is making me uncomfortable so I move away out of reach. "Will you allow me to train with your men?" I can't sit around and do nothing all day.

"We'll see," is all Ioan says to that. He obviously doesn't want to agree until he's certain that I'm going to stay put. "Come, we can't laze about all day."

He leads me over to where a couple of men are making arrows. Holding up one of the weapons, Ioan asks, "You any good at making these?"

"I don't know." They had servants in the army to make the arrows so I've never really tried.

"You're about to find out." Ioan gestures for me to sit near one of his men - who doesn't look at all pleased. Ioan sits next to me on the other side while the slave sits opposite. "Everyone needs to pull their weight," the warlord states.

At least I won't be idle then. Over the next couple of hours, I learn how to make arrows. Ioan stays for awhile and then goes to attend to other duties. This allows me to breathe freely for the first time since I woke up this morning. The effect he has on my body is very disconcerting, and I need time to counter it.

Since the slave is still nearby though, I may not get that time as he causes a similar feeling inside me. I have to be very careful not to watch him although I do sneak glances at his hands and face occasionally. He has long fingers, and his thumbs are slightly crooked, which doesn't seem to hamper him. He seems to be very good with a knife too, though he tries to hid that ability by working slowly. Strangely, though I know he's a deadly warrior, I don't fear him like I do Ioan. Somehow, I know that he won't hurt me.

Ioan fetches me at midday and takes me to his tent for a meal. The slave comes too, as Ioan states that it's a good opportunity to train him. I think there's a lot of threats involved too - brown eyes reflect the slave's suppressed anger. I would hate to be in his position, bound with the knowledge that death is his only escape. I'm not entirely sure my bondage isn't almost as bad but at least I have some measure of freedom.

"Where did you get this outfit from?" I ask Ioan as we eat.

"It belonged to my last consort," Ioan replies briefly. "He died a few months ago."

That's interesting but I don't think I want to know how - or why - he died. "This isn't a permanent camp, is it?" I change the subject. There are no women or children here, just warriors.

"No, it's not." Ioan continues eating.

Alright, I'll have to be more specific. "How far are we from your village?" If it's close enough for his wife to visit...

"North, several days ride," he replies. "Safe from the Romans."

And therefore not close enough to visit. It makes me wonder what the other men do about pleasures but I'm not going to ask. "I didn't think that the Roman army occupied this part of Britannia," I comment instead.

"Some like to explore the countryside," Ioan states. "They do not make themselves welcome."

The hatred he feels is almost palpable. "All soldiers aren't the same," I feel compelled to point out.

"The ones who don't like their job are far between," Ioan counters, letting his hand rest briefly over mine. "Kind of like the Britons."

I happen to catch the slave's reaction out of the corner of my eye. His anger seems to flare before it is brought under control again. Is his reaction to Ioan's words or to the affectionate gesture? If the former, that would mean that he knows Latin; I'll have to test that later on. If it's the latter...

Turning my attention back to Ioan, I banter, "That's what we always said about all the native tribes of Britannia." Which is true; if one isn't as cultured as a Roman, one is considered a barbarian.

"The enemy depends on your point of view," he agrees. "And your intentions."

I definitely agree with that. Right now, I have to keep reminding myself that Ioan is supposed to be my enemy because of his intentions. Annoyingly, my body doesn't see things that way. I shift uncomfortably as his hand rests over mine again; I really need to get used to this.

Ioan chuckles. "Your innocence is intoxicating," he casually comments. "How is it that you are inexperienced in this matter? Surely you have caught the eye of many."

"Not men," I state; I have had some experience with women.

He grins, lust and amusement shining in his eyes. "Then I look forward to being your first." He kisses the palm of my hand.

A shiver of fear - or perhaps anticipation - runs down my spine. I look away from Ioan to hide my reaction and see that the slave is staring at the floor, jaw clenched. This again makes me wonder whether he knows, and consequently dislikes, what is going on.

"Unfortunately, we do not have time to explore now," Ioan continues. "My men and I go to hunt. You and the slave will remain here, and I will leave two warriors to protect you."

Or to make sure neither of us escape, I think as he stands and then pulls me into his arms. His lips descend hungrily on mine, more passionately than before, and I can feel how much he wants me. That knowledge is flattering and my body responds in kind.

All too soon - or maybe not soon enough - Ioan releases me and strides out of the tent, leaving me stunned by my body's betrayal. I sink down onto the chair and cross my arms over my stomach to hug my sides. This is not good.

I don't know how long I sit there lost in thought before a clinking sound catches my attention. The slave is watching me, his expression unreadable. I had forgotten that I wasn't alone. Sitting up straight, I press one hand to my chest. "Daniel. Daniel," I repeat when he looks quizzically at me.

"Dan-iel," he echoes slowly. His voice sounds nice if a little croaky.

"Yes! My name is Daniel! And you are...?" I point to him, hoping he understands what I want to know.

He hesitates for a second and then states, "Jack."

"Jack?" I ask, pointing at him again.

He nods and I smile. Jack. It sounds much better than 'slave'. Very short, and different to Roman names, but not as difficult to pronounce as some names I've come across. "It's good to meet you, Jack. Well, as good as it can be under these circumstances," I add. At his puzzled look, I realise that he can't understand me. "Oh, sorry, um..." How do we communicate when the only words I know in his dialect are commands?

That reminds me - how long has it been since Jack has eaten? I gesture towards the food then towards him, saying, "Food, Jack." When he doesn't move, I point towards him and then mime eating. There's no point in letting this food go to waste and he must be hungry.

Jack comes over to the table, sits down in the vacant chair and then starts eating. The manacles around his wrists don't seem to hinder him since there is a long chain between them; all the better for performing slave tasks, I suppose.

I wonder how they would impair him in a fight? I don't know how long Ioan is going to be and I hate having nothing to do so why not practise some sparring? Only problem is, how do I communicate that idea to Jack?

Maybe some language lessons first. When he's finished eating, I point to my shirt and say the word in Latin. Jack repeats it and then says what I hope is the same word in his language. After I repeat it, Jack nods and I feel pleased that I am learning quickly.

We go through every item in the tent that way many times until we both remember the new words. I'm surprised by how quickly Jack learns them; he is definitely intelligent and therefore all the more dangerous. And there's something about his accent, something that I can't pinpoint.

"Can you... teach me... to fight?" I speak slowly and punctuate my words with gestures. He looks puzzled for a moment and then understanding dawns. He holds up his chained hands in response.

I wish I could free him but Ioan isn't stupid - he hasn't left me the key. I hold me hands out, palms up, to show that I can't help him with that. "Teach me anyway."

Jack obviously gets my meaning because he nods and then gestures for me to step into the middle of the tent. I obey and he follows, and then we face off against each other.

Disadvantaged as he is, Jack is still an excellent warrior. His reflexes are lightning quick, almost as if he can predict my moves. I can't put him on the ground and yet he does it to me several times. When I request to be shown something, he patiently takes me through it until I can do it easily, and his smiles of praise warm me. When he stands close to me, I also feel arousal, which distracts me and Jack uses that to his advantage. He never touches me inappropriately but his eyes do linger, which is thrilling knowledge.

We both take a quick bath in the stream afterwards - guarded by the warriors, of course - and I try to avoid looking at Jack; I don't think I should tempt fate. Then we return to the tent for more language lessons, which I enjoy. And as we talk, amidst much laughter, a part of me wishes that it had been Jack who had rescued me, not Ioan.

It's not too much longer before Ioan and his men return. I hear his voice before he enters the tent, presumably asking the guards how things went. I hope he doesn't ask me about the sparring because I don't want to have to reveal that yet.

Ioan strides into the tent, his cloak flowing out behind him, and over to me. "Did you have a good afternoon?" he asked without even glancing at Jack.

"Yes, I did. I taught... the slave some Latin." I almost stumble and use Jack's name; somehow, I don't think Ioan would be too happy with that.

"Good. He'll understand your orders then." Ioan pours himself a drink and then settles down on the throne. "I hope you were not too bored - that must have been a difficult task," he adds, seeming to assume that Jack isn't very intelligent.

"I coped." That's not a lie but not a whole truth either. If Ioan doesn't want details, I'm not going to give them to him.

"Good," he says again. He drains the last of his drink, then beckons me to him. "Aren't you going to greet me properly, consort?"

Properly? As in kiss him? I'd better find out. "I'm not sure about the etiquette - I've never done this before."

Ioan chuckles at my response. "It's easy. I come back from a hunt or a battle, you kiss me and tend to my wounds if necessary. That's all there is to it."

Easy for him to say. I slowly walk over to him, aware of being watched by both him and Jack. When I reach Ioan, I lift my eyes to his and then lick my lips nervously; I don't know how to do this.

Ioan solves the problem by standing and pulling me to him, laughing at my nervousness. "Now put your arms around me and then kiss me."

Jack's eyes bore into my head as I slowly obey. It feels so awkward to initiate the kiss, much more so than if I were with a woman. Thankfully, my body doesn't react this time to the kiss - perhaps because I'm very aware of being watched by Jack.

"Very nice," Ioan comments as he breaks the kiss. "With some practise, you'll be even better."

My eyes involuntarily go to Jack, even though I know he doesn't understand what's being said. I hope that Jack won't have to watch us 'practise' - I don't like having an audience, especially given that I feel some attraction towards him.

Ioan catches my glance and also looks over at Jack, who doesn't lower his eyes as a slave should; not a good sign. Ioan snaps an order at him but Jack just continues to stare defiantly at him. This is so not good.

I flinch as Ioan backhands Jack across the face with his fist, and I take a step forward to stop the situation from escalating. "He's new to this," I protest to Ioan. "You can't expect him to be a perfect slave in less than a day."

Ioan doesn't take his eyes off Jack. "I don't. But I will not tolerate disobedience."

Swallowing hard, I hope that statement wasn't directed at me as well. As non-confrontationally as possible, I state, "He saw his friends die this morning by your hand."

"So? That's war," Ioan dismisses my reasoning. He turns and walks back to me, satisfied that Jack is now keeping his eyes downcast. "Every man, woman and child in this country live with the threat of one day becoming a slave to their enemies. The smart ones don't show their defiance because they know that they can't get home if they're dead."

Ioan's cold tone chills me and I instinctively know that something bad happened when he was a Roman slave. I'm not so stupid as to ask about it at the moment though. However... "Am I your slave?"

"I hope not." His tone thaws slightly as he reach one hand up to cup my cheek. "I desire you, Daniel, and I want you to be my consort. But if you defy me, I will not spare you from punishment."

Message received loud and clear. He doesn't want his authority challenged, especially by someone he only wants for pleasure. I will have to be very careful because I've never been one to hold my tongue regarding injustice. "I understand."

"Good." He kisses me lightly. "Now, we need to find some more clothes for you. The white will only be suitable until tonight. Come."

I hate this white outfit and what it stands for, and the fact that everyone knows that I am going to be a sacrifice to his desire, but the alternative - being executed as a prisoner of war - would be worse.

I follow Ioan outside as he assesses his men to see whose clothes will fit me best. There are several men about my size so Ioan takes a piece of clothing from each of them and tells me to try them on.

Reluctantly, and very aware of Ioan watching me, I do so. Ioan surprisingly orders Jack to help me - something that I don't think is a wise idea. I try protesting but Ioan doesn't listen; I have no option but to let Jack assist me.

Jack's fingers are very nimble as he ties the laces on the leather tunic, which leads me to the thought that he would also be adept at helping someone out of their clothes. My body likes that idea, so I have to rapidly change the direction of my thoughts so that Ioan doesn't notice. Of course, Jack's fingers gliding over my skin doesn't help.

The leather trousers - why do these men wear leather instead of cloth or skins? - are a tight fit but not uncomfortable. I don't like them though; I feel very self-conscious in them. I stare over Jack's shoulder as he ties the laces at the front, his long fingers brushing over my groin. These trousers aren't going to hide anything which means that I'll have to get some measure of control over my body.

"Perfect," Ioan announces as he thoroughly inspects me with his black eyes. Standing behind me, one hand trails over my back and buttocks before travelling around to rest just above my groin. "Yes, this will do nicely," he says as he presses against my back.

I tense as I feel how much he wants me right now. My gaze drifts over to Jack, who is staring at Ioan's hand in anger. I don't get much of a chance to think about that though as Ioan puts his arm across my chest, holding me to him. This feels very, very strange. "Ioan--"

"I don't think I'll let you leave my tent," he murmurs in a low voice. "Some of my men have been without pleasures for a long time, and you in this outfit would tempt even the most devout of them."

"I'll just wear something else then," I suggest, not wanting to be cooped up in the tent all day.

He chuckles and the movement of his body against mine is... pleasurable. I quickly think of Septimus and my arousal subsides for now.

"Get changed, Daniel," he says in my ear, still holding me firmly. "I don't want to be tempted too soon."

With pleasure. I gesture to Jack and he helps me with the laces, although I deal with my trousers. Soon I am back in the white clothing, relieved that it doesn't show off as much of my body.

"Your innocence is refreshing." Ioan holds my hand and leads me outside. "Like a woman before her marriage."

I don't like these comparisons to being a woman or wife. I am neither and I somehow need to make him see that. "I am your consort, not your wife. And I'm not going to sit around in a tent all day waiting for your company." Oh boy, that didn't come out quite as I'd intended.

Ioan stops and grips my chin with a strong hand. "You will do exactly as I tell you or you will be punished. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." I'm going to be thoroughly bored all day unless Jack and I can learn enough of each other's language to converse. I keep my expression neutral as black eyes search my face for hints of defiance. I think I need to walk a very fine line between obeying him and keeping my independence.

Ioan stares at me for a few moments longer then releases me. "You are going to be a handful," he comments as we continue walking over to where the food is being prepared.

I certainly hope so.

****

The rest of the day passes quickly. Before eating the evening meal, I am taken to the stream with instructions to clean myself in preparation for Ioan's claiming of me. Then as we eat with the other warriors, Ioan teaches me more of his language. This enables me to understand some of what the warriors converse about but not enough to know all the jokes and stories they tell around the campfire. Jack, I notice, seems to understand all too well and his anger does not abate at the tales of his people being murdered. Ioan seems oblivious to Jack's anger but he probably knows; he would not be much of a leader otherwise.

The knot in my stomach grows as the night wears on. I fear what is to come and yet part of me wants it, wants to lie with Ioan. Another part of me wants to lie with Jack, thinking that he would be a more considerate lover. One day I might get that opportunity but for now, it must be Ioan if I am to survive.

Finally, Ioan sends Jack to the spare tent under guard and then leads me to the main tent. Lewd comments accompany us; Ioan's men obviously know what is about to happen.

Once inside, Ioan draws me over to the bed and slowly undresses me. When I am naked, he inspects me with his eyes, apparently liking what he sees for he eagerly strips and gently encourages me onto the bed. Swallowing hard at the feel of his body against mine, I shut down my thoughts and let my instincts take over.

****

Morning arrives far too soon. I can still feel the ache between my legs as I wake, evidence of the acts committed last night. The first time he entered me had been painful, the second time only slightly less so. There was some pleasure as well but only from Ioan's hand or mouth on me. He also showed me how to suck another man's erection as he brought me to orgasm, and he expects me to reciprocate tonight. I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that.

Surprisingly, he didn't tie my hands together last night, which I thought he might have so that I didn't try to escape. Perhaps he is confident that I'm not going to kill him in here and that if I try to leave the tent, his guards right outside will stop me... which is correct on both counts.

Ioan is still spooned up behind me, his arm heavy across my waist. As much as I received pleasure last night, I hate what we did, although I am certain that it was better than if it had been Septimus. Maybe I would be more accepting of it had it been fuelled by love and not just desire but I don't know.

Carefully, I move out of Ioan's hold and out of bed. The skin on my stomach and thighs feel tight and itchy from all the dried seed there, and I need to wash that away. My body also feels achy all over from the strenuous activity.

As I dress, I hear Ioan ask, "Where are you going?"

"To the stream." Bare-chested, I turn to face him. Ioan looks good lying there, and my traitorous groin twitches in agreement. "I need to wash."

"Come here," he orders and I reluctantly obey. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me down to straddle his thighs. Then my face burns with embarrassment as he slips a finger under my trousers and between my buttocks to my sensitive hole. I flinch and he chuckles. "Did you enjoy last night?" He presses his fingertip inside.

My breath hitches as I reply, "Yes." Please don't let him want to do it again right now!

"Does this hurt?" He wriggles his finger.

"Yes," I reply truthfully and he withdraws his finger. I breath a sigh of relief at the action; he's not going to do anything now. "May I go?"

"By all means. Take the slave with you and change into the other clothes." Ioan points to a pile of clothing on the table.

I nod and then carefully shift off Ioan's lap. Pulling my tunic on before grabbing the leather clothes and shaving implements, I exit the tent - making sure I don't look at the two guards standing outside the door - and go to where Jack is. When I step inside his tent, I see he is already awake and in a kneeling position, waiting for orders. I hope he hasn't been waiting long. "Good morning, Jack. We will wash," I say in my language, using words he knows.

Before I can leave, he quickly stands and places a hand on my arm. "Hurt?" Concern for me is evident in his eyes.

"No," I lie, shaking my head. Well, technically it's not a lie because I'm not hurt, I just have a few aches, that's all.

His expression becomes shrewd and I feel that he can see right through me. "/He will pay/," he vows in another language.

Now, I know I never taught Jack that. "/You can speak Greek?/" Where had he learnt that?

"/My clan sometimes trades with the Romans/," he replies fluently. "/Also, my brother married a Roman woman some years ago and she taught some of us enough Greek so that we could conduct trade if times got rough./"

I definitely did not expect this. "/Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?/"

"/Because I was still deciding whether I could trust you./" His face reflects sincerity. "/You don't want to be here, do you?/"

It's more of a statement than a question but I shake my head anyway.

"/Did he hurt you?/" Jack presses, his shrewd gaze assessing my body language for truth.

My mouth opens to say 'I'm fine' but what comes out is, "/Not intentionally./"

Jack's brown eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to say something but I speak first. "/We can't stay here and talk too long or Ioan will get suspicious. We're supposed to go to the river so I can bathe and you're supposed to bring my clothes./"

After a few moments, Jack nods. "/We'll continue this later. Can't keep him waiting./" The inflection is definitely sarcastic.

I don't want to hurry but I know that lingering could be dangerous if Ioan becomes impatient. I hand Jack the clothes that I'm supposed to change into and then we head down to the stream, two guards in tow. Jack waits on the bank and one man guards him while the other guards me as I get rid of the evidence of last nights activities. While I'm still in the stream, I shave as best as I'm able, hating the feel of stubble on my face. Maximus did this for me on the week long journey but here I must do it for myself.

When I'm satisfied that I'm clean, I get dressed in the leather clothes. Jack keeps his eyes downcast but I occasionally catch him sneaking peeks at me; it would seem that he is quite interested in my body too. That knowledge warms me and my heart gives a little skip, a reaction that has been missing when I think about Ioan.

I don't have time to ponder what that means though. Our guards usher us back to Ioan's tent where the warlord is sitting in council with several of his men. He orders me to eat, then turns his attention back to his men. Not his complete attention though; I can feel his eyes on me as I walk over to the table.

When I'm partway through my meal, Ioan dismisses his men and comes over to join me. "How do you feel now?" he asks me casually, putting a hand on my back.

"Fine," I reply, careful not to give a specific answer that could imply that I wanted to wash him off my skin. "You?"

"I'm very good." Ioan sounds amused as he answers. "How is the slave doing?"

"He's doing well." I don't want Ioan to know about my connection with Jack. "So, what are you doing today?"

Ioan's hand slides up to the back of my neck, making me shiver. "As much as I want to stay here, we had planned a raid for today and I can't disappoint my men."

"Of course not." If Ioan's gone for a few hours, I'll have plenty of time to talk to Jack. "You go... raid or whatever, I'll stay here and do something."

"Oh no, you are coming with me," Ioan contradicts with a smirk.

What? "I thought I was only good for staying in your tent and waiting for you to come back," I remind him. Why has he changed his mind?

"My men will allow your presence if you prove you are one of us." Ioan ignores my sarcasm and lets his hand drift into my hair. Without warning, his fingers tighten and he yanks my head back. "Can you do that?"

I glare up at Ioan as I reply, "Yes," while silently ordering him to let go.

"Excellent." He releases me and moves away to stand in front of Jack. As I tilt my head back down, I can see Jack's clenched fists and downcast eyes; fortunately, he has the good sense not to challenge Ioan.

"The slave will remain here. You will be ready to leave soon," Ioan orders me before leaving the tent. He gives an order to two of his warriors, who come and drag Jack outside.

"Wait! Ioan, what are you doing?" I demand as I step outside the tent. Jack is being dragged over to the pole he was tied to when I arrived. "Ioan!"

"I can't have him running away, can I?" Ioan puts an arm around my waist. "We're going to raid a Briton village and I will not have him causing trouble."

Silently, I admit that's probably a good decision from Ioan's point of view but I still don't like it. "Why do you need to raid the village at all?"

"Because the people need a reminder as to who they now serve." Ioan turns his head to look at me, his black eyes glittering dangerously. "Maybe you need reminder too?"

"No." My body is still aching from last night's reminder. "But surely I don't need to go--"

"No more arguing," Ioan states firmly. "You are coming on the raid and you will prove yourself loyal to this tribe or I will kill the slave."

I bow my head in temporary defeat. I don't want to go on this raid but I don't want to be responsible for Jack's death either. Somehow I'll have to prove myself without killing or hurting anyone.

As Ioan takes my bicep and starts to lead me over to where his men are gathering, I glance over my shoulder at Jack. His eyes are on me but instead of anger, I see concern. Is he worried about me? Perhaps he is - after all, he did see Ioan's behaviour back in the tent.

I don't have time to think about it. While we ride, Ioan teaches me more of his language and about the politics in this part of Britannia. Basically, what it boils down to is that his people want this land and are gradually driving the Britons out or enslaving them. The village we're travelling to hasn't paid their tithe and so Ioan will be collecting that as well as teaching them not to cross him. I just hope that he doesn't kill too many of them.

The village consists of about forty wooden houses that look no larger than Ioan's tent. Nearby is a wheat field where some of the villagers are doing the harvesting. As Ioan and his men charge down to the village, it occurs to me that there doesn't seem to be as many people as there should be for a village that size. Something isn't right.

I spur my horse into a gallop and try to catch up with Ioan, however he reaches the village before me, causing the villagers to hide or huddle together in fear. He calls for their leader and a man of around fifty years comes forward to greet Ioan.

A conversation ensues and although I don't understand all of it, I find out enough to be concerned. These people have been suffering from a sickness and haven't been able to tend to their crops as much as usual. It is not yet winter, the worst time for sicknesses, so I wonder why it has come now.

I can see Ioan isn't accepting these excuses and I begin to fear for the villagers. He and two of his men dismount, ready to inspect the houses, I presume. But they don't get far before there are dozens of loud shouts and armed men come rushing out of the huts. These men are simple villagers, judging from the way they're dressed. And they're probably intent on killing the Welsh invaders - and me.

One villager heads straight for me, sword drawn. I hastily draw my sword, which Ioan had so thoughtfully given to me earlier so I can kill people, and automatically parry the man's thrust. Our swords clang, mixing in with the other sounds of battle. The man, who looks no older than me, tries to strike again but my soldier training pays off and I block him. After several more strikes, I finally have the opportunity to go on the offensive. I lean forward and manage to strike him with the butt of my sword on the side of his head - a non-fatal blow which knocks him out and will hopefully keep him from getting killed.

Another villager appears in front of me and deliberately startles my horse. The animal rears up and throws me from the saddle; my balance wasn't centred enough. My right shoulder and hip hurt as they hit the ground hard but I don't have time to worry about that as I roll out of the way of my horse's hooves. Fortunately, this takes me to the edge of the fighting. Unfortunately, the man follows me.

One second he's looming over me, sword ready to strike a fatal blow, the next a sword is coming out of his chest. As he topples forward, I scramble out of the way and then look up to find that Ioan has once again come to my rescue.

Ioan doesn't have time to help me up before another man comes to battle him. I use the opportunity to stand and look around. Several of the Welsh warriors are on the ground but many more of the Britons lie there, no match for the skill of Ioan's men. With a sudden insight, I know Ioan will win and that he will kill the villagers for their defiance. I can't let that happen.

I turn towards the nearest home where two women are peering out the window at the fight. "[You must leave now]," I urge them, hoping I have the words right. "[Take your children and run.]"

They disappear from view as a hand latches onto my left bicep. "[Why did you tell them that?]" one of Ioan's men demands. He is as tall as me but much stronger, as evidence by his grip on my arm.

I don't have the vocabulary yet to explain my actions so I simply glare at him.

He pulls me over to where Ioan is calmly dispatching one of the last Briton men and says something I don't catch. I can guess what it was though by Ioan's disapproving glare. "Why did you tell them to leave?" he demands.

"Because they don't deserve to die."

Ioan stares at me for a long moment and then orders me to get on my horse. Then he turns to his men and tells them to burn the village.

"No! Don't do this!" I start to protest.

Ioan's fist catches my already bruised cheek, knocking me backwards. "If you do not wish to be whipped, hold your tongue," he orders harshly as I recover my balance. "Get on your horse."

I do so as Ioan mounts his, and then he leads me away from the village as his men set fire to the wooden structures. I turn in my saddle to see what's going on but I can't tell whether the women I spoke to managed to leave with their children. I hope they did; my punishment will then be worth it.

Ioan is silent the whole way back while his men send me hostile glares. When we arrive back at the camp, he dismounts and goes over to Jack, drawing his sword as he walks.

"Wait!" It is then that I remember Ioan's warning: prove my loyalty or he'll kill Jack. I quickly follow Ioan and then stand in front of him, trying to ignore my body's aches. "It wasn't his fault. Punish me. He doesn't deserve to die."

"I told you what would happen." He doesn't move to go around me, which indicates that he doesn't really want to do this.

"I know and I'm sorry. But he doesn't deserve to die for something I did." I need Jack to live so he can help me escape.

Ioan looks at me with something akin to regret. Behind him, the warriors are shouting at him, wanting blood. "I don't want to hurt you, Daniel."

My aching cheek says differently. "You have to." His men won't respect him if he doesn't deal with my disobedience.

Slowly, Ioan sheathes his sword then turns to his men and gives some orders. Jack is released from the stake but is dragged over and forced to his hands and knees in front of me. Ioan steps around him so that he can unlace my vest, and then he asks me to remove it.

I do that, my hands shaking slightly; this punishment is going to be very painful.

"Kneel and lean on the slave."

As I kneel, my eyes meet Jack's. His are full of concern so I try to fill mine with confidence; I don't think I'm successful.

A rough hand pushes me forward hard and I feel Jack sway beneath me briefly before he steadies himself. Pretty soon, depending on how bad this gets, he'll probably be supporting much of my weight.

"I'm sorry, Daniel," Ioan states, crouching down beside me and running a hand over my bruised shoulder. Then abruptly he stands, his face a mask. "[Ten lashes.]"

Ten? Isn't that a bit--

Argh!! My back arches in pain as the first lash lands. They are not going to go easy on me.

The next nine lashes are as painful as the first and my back feels like it's on fire. My whole body is shaking and I don't think I'm going to be able to move. Through the haze of pain, I hear Ioan ordering someone to take me to his tent. Someone draws me backwards to kneel properly and then I am gently helped to stand, an arm around my waist.

Keeping my eyes closed throughout the walk to the tent helps to manage the pain - only slightly, but every bit helps. I'm laid face down on the bed and I finally open my eyes to see Jack standing nearby.

Seeing my gaze on him, Jack crouches by the bed and gently touches my cheek. "/You shouldn't have disobeyed him/," he reprimands softly.

"/I couldn't let those people die./"

Jack nods. "/Thank you./" He lets his hand rest on my cheek a few moments longer and then moves away. "/I have something for your back. It should help to alleviate some of the pain./"

It was my turn to thank him; less pain sounded good. As I close my eyes again, his hands gently rub the ointment over my burning back, and one part of me notes what his touch feels like. His fingers are calloused but his touch is gentle and I like it. I let myself drift, warmed by his touch.

The next thing I know, Ioan is beside me, stroking my arm. His touch doesn't arouse the same warmth inside me as Jack's does. "How do you feel?" he asks.

'Fine' would be a lie so I reply, "I've been better."

Ioan's hand shifts to my injured shoulder. "How did you get this?"

"When I fell off my horse."

He skims his hands over my hips and legs, and sees me wince. "Where else?"

"It's nothing," I start to say but Ioan interrupts me.

"Where. Else?"

"Right hip." He's going to get annoying if he worries over every minor injury, especially when he has just caused some of his own. A hiss of pain escapes me as Ioan pushes my upper body up slightly so that he can get at the laces to my trousers. It seems he doesn't care about the injury he inflicted on me. "Ouch," I remind him pointedly.

"Sorry." The apology doesn't sound the least bit sincere. He pulls down my trousers far enough to see the spectacular bruise that's forming on my hip. "That must have hurt."

"It wasn't the only thing," I mutter as Ioan allows me to lie flat again. The only good thing about being beaten is that I won't be able to satisfy Ioan's needs for the next couple of days.

Hopefully.

"The men don't trust you now," he states, his hand casually stroking my arm again. "When you recover, you will need to earn it."

"How?" I'm not going to kill people just to gain their trust, especially when my being here wasn't my idea in the first place.

"I haven't decided yet." Ioan leans in to kiss my forehead and then pulls a blanket up to my hips. "Rest. I will return later." He turns to Jack and gives him some instructions before leaving the tent.

When Ioan is gone, Jack comes back to my side. "/Do you need anything?/" he asks in Greek.

"/Yes, a way out./" I can't stay here because if I refuse to show my loyalty, I'll either become a prisoner like Jack or be killed, neither of which option is appealing. "/Can you help me?/"

Jack nods. "/But we'll have to wait until your back starts to heal. If we're too slow, they'll catch us and kill us both./"

That, I knew. "/Do you have any family?/" I'm curious to know whether he is married.

"/I have two sons and a daughter. Their mother died three winters ago./" There is grief in his voice; he loved her. "/You?/"

"/I have no-one./" No wife or children, no friends - well, maybe some in the Celtic villages - and a father who might kill me for dishonouring him if I return.

Jack rests his hand on my arm. "/You will be welcome in my clan./"

"/Your clan?/" Is Jack a clan leader? If so, I hope Ioan doesn't find out because that information would be valuable.

"{Yes,}" he states simply - in Gaelic. "{The UiNeill's from Eire.}"

Surprise robs me of speech for a few seconds, then I managed to say, "/But you don't sound like you're from Eire./" And I should know having lived there for many years. There is a lilt to his accent but not as strong as I've heard from other men in Eire.

"/It's amazing what a bit of education can do./" Jack's eyes glitter with amusement. "/That, and living amongst the locals for several months./"

I'm really confused. "/I thought you were a Briton?/"

"/A dozen of us came here half a year ago to trade. We got shipwrecked and most of us were washed up near here on the coast. A local tribe found us, invited us to stay while we built another boat. A week ago, they asked for our help to repel the Welsh invaders/," Jack explains, his eyes turning flinty at the mention of his enemies. "/Some of my men managed to escape and hopefully, they'll be finishing work on the boat. It's only a day or so ride from here./"

A stray thought occurs to me: Jack said this morning that the Romans occasionally trade with his village. If I returned with him, what would the odds be of someone recognising me when next they come to trade? Maybe - hopefully - it would be soldiers from another fort and not Father's.

"/If we make it back home, you would be most welcome/," Jack continues, repeating his earlier statement. "/I would be honoured if you stayed with me but if you so wish, I'm sure you would be able to find a wife./"

Normally, that would sound good but there's something compelling about Jack. But... "/Are you wanting what Ioan wants?/"

"/No./" His reply is swift, and his eyes darken briefly at Ioan's name. "/I think we could be much more than that./"

My heart actually skips a beat at the tenderness in Jack's voice. It implies that he wants more than just sex, and that sounds wonderful. "/Have you ever been with men before?/" I have to ask.

"/No. But as soon as I saw you, I just... something hit me/," he admits. "/Do you know what I mean?/" His brown eyes search mine intently.

I think I know exactly what he means. "/You were drawn to me even though I was a stranger./"

"/Exactly./" His hand comes up to caress my cheek; although the action is similar to what Ioan does, there is more caring than desire behind it. "/When I first saw my wife, I knew that she was the one. When I saw you, I felt a similar way./"

"/A connection./"

"/Yes. But I had to be sure, of my own feelings and yours, before I said anything./"

I can understand his caution, and I know why he's telling me all of this; in this hostile environment, we can't afford to waste the time we have. I shift my hand to cover his, wincing as the movement pulls at my injured back. "/Can a man love another man as he did a wife?/" In matters of love, I'm not greatly experienced.

"/It sure feels like it/," Jack says, grinning at me, albeit a little nervously. "/Do you...?/" He trails off and I understand what he wants to know.

"/I don't know. I've never felt like this before/," I confess.

"/Like what?/" he encourages me.

"/Nervous but excited./" I feel awkward, unused to describing my feelings, especially to another man. "/Kind of tingly sometimes. And safe - you make me feel safe./"

Jack's expression becomes softer but earnest. "/Ever since I saw you, I've wanted to protect you. I don't know why, just every instinct I have says to. I haven't done a great job of it so far though, have I?/"

It's hard to believe that I'm having this kind of conversation with another man. A few days ago, this was an impossibility. Now, I'm considering the possibility of actually loving a man I only met two days ago. It feels so strange. "/None of this has been your fault/," I assure him. "/Besides, if you try to protect me, Ioan will either harm you or kill you, and I don't want that to happen. Promise me that you won't interfere./"

I can see the internal battle raging inside Jack; his eyes can't hide it. He wants to protect me - which is flattering if a little condescending. "/What if he hurts you again?/"

"/You have to let me deal with that. I need you to find a way out of here./" Preferably soon because I don't want Ioan to use me again. "/Please, Jack./"

He reluctantly nods. "/But if he goes too far, I'll stop him/," Jack vows. He smoothes my hair away from my forehead - a loving gesture which warms me. "/I never thought I'd love anyone again./"

The confession shocks me. Jack loves me? "/You don't even know me./" How can he just say something like that already?

"/I was watching you when you were forced to choose which of us should die/," Jack states. "/You didn't want to make that choice, which means that you don't have a cold heart. Your actions in the village, from what I've heard, show that you want to protect the innocent. And you had the courage to take the punishment that was supposed to be given to me. What else do I need to know?/"

I wish I could hide my face in embarrassment but Jack's hand is stroking through my hair so I can't - or don't - move. He really thinks that of me? "/But I'm a man./"

"/I know. And it doesn't matter to me./"

That's good to hear. "/Do you think this is wise?/"

Jack shrugs. "/Given how dangerous it is for both of us at the moment, I wanted to let you know even though we can't do anything about it./"

To do so would mean death to us both. As it is, our lives are already precarious, subject to Ioan's wishes, so I know how Jack feels. If we weren't so close to death, would we be baring our souls like this? Probably not, and therefore we would never have known that these strange feelings were reciprocated. "/I don't feel anything for Ioan/," I tell him truthfully; the genocide of the villagers took care of that. His touch doesn't arouse me either, as evidenced by my lack of response to his kiss earlier.

"/Good./" Jack seems very pleased by that. "/So this is a first for both of us./" His hand, which had been in my hair, now moves to my nape to gently caress the skin.

"/Yes./" That's not a total lie; the feelings I have for Jack way surpass the desire I had for Ioan. If I believed in such things, I would say that we were drawn to each other because it is destined to be. I never used to believe in that kind of thing but now I wonder if it's true because it would explain why I have such feelings of desire and concern for a man I hardly know.

A shiver runs down my spine, causing the pain in my back to flare. My sharply indrawn breath alarms Jack. "/What's wrong?/"

I force a chuckle to calm him down. "/Just... don't arouse me at the moment. It kind of hurts./"

"/Sorry./" He withdraws his hand and I feel its loss keenly. "/I'll remember that spot/," he says with a half-grin.

The promise fills me with anticipation and warmth; when we get out of here, we are going to make love. I open my mouth to say something about that but Jack suddenly moves away to a respectful distance, kneeling on the floor with head bowed.

A moment later, Ioan enters the tent. His sharp eyes take in the scene and he relaxes slightly at not finding anything amiss. He comes over to my side, a bowl of something in his hands. "[Are you hungry?]" he asks me in his language.

After a couple of seconds to process the question, I reply, "[No.]" Ioan's presence has made me aware of an underlying nausea that Jack's presence had made me overlook. "I don't think I can eat anything right now."

"Right." Ioan puts the bowl down on the floor beside the bed. "The slave can help you later when you feel better."

That could be hours away. "Thank you."

Ioan doesn't know what else to say. He stands there for half a minute, looking awkward, then mumbles something about needing to supervise his men. He leaves and takes Jack with him, meaning that I won't get fed any time soon.

"I'll just wait here then," I say to the empty tent.

****

I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I know, there's a hand stroking my hair. I keep my eyes closed for a minute, hoping that it's Jack, and then I slowly open them.

It's not him.

Ioan smiles at me, his hand ceasing its movement. "You have slept a long time, Daniel. Are you hungry now?" He retrieves the bowl of soup from the floor and holds it in front of me.

"A little." The nausea, at least, is gone but who knows what will happen if I actually move.

"Good." He puts the bowl down again and then gently helps me to roll onto my side, causing the pain to flare up again. Ioan waits for me to recover slightly before helping me to sit up.

Every nerve in my body screeches with pain at the shift in position. I close my eyes and breathe through gritted teeth in an effort to manage the pain.

"Daniel?" Ioan asks with concern.

"I'm fine," I lie, "just give me a minute." I straighten my back so that the skin doesn't stretch so much - it helps a little. After a minute or so, the pain eases off to a manageable ache and I open my eyes.

Ioan's still looking at me with concern, and when I look over his shoulder and find Jack, his expression is almost identical. The difference is that Jack is concerned out of love whereas Ioan's is out of lust, two very different things. "I think I could eat now."

To my surprise, Ioan stays to help me eat the soup. Then he assists me to lie down again before leaving to attend to his duties. Jack stays, which pleases me. However, I do notice something different about him as he comes over to me. "/You're limping./"

"/Yeah, well, I guess he didn't like my attitude./" Jack sets about putting more ointment on my back.

"/He hurt you?/" Of course he did, I reprimand myself; Jack is a slave so Ioan would see no problem in treating him badly. "/What happened?/"

"/I didn't obey fast enough to please him, that's all/," Jack states. His fingers are gentle on my back, soothing me once again. "/He appears to be feeling guilty about having you whipped./"

Good, because I'm sure he wouldn't have felt guilty about killing Jack. "/He's going to want me to prove my loyalty to him as soon as I'm able and if it involves killing or hurting someone, I don't think I'll be able to do it./"

"/I'll have you out of here by then/," Jack promises.

We don't get any more time to talk for the rest of the day. Jack is taken away to perform various tasks while I'm left alone to rest. Ioan returns at nightfall to help me eat, and then he stays as rain pours down outside our tent.

We chat about a variety of things and I learn more of his language, which he seems pleased about. And finally, he crawls into bed beside me.

"Ioan, I can't--" I start to say before he shushes me.

"I know. We won't do anything." He spoons up against my side, keeping his hands to himself. "May your dreams be good."

"And yours," I reply automatically, happy that Ioan won't be using me tonight. Especially since Jack and I have an understanding - he loves me and I think I might love him back. I wish I knew for certain but until I do, I guess I'll just have to trust my instincts.

****

The rain doesn't cease in the morning so I'm stuck in the tent with Ioan. Jack joins us after we break our fast, and Ioan takes great delight in ordering him outside to fetch things. By mid-morning, Jack is shivering from the cold and I'm worried that he's going to get sick. "Stop it," I tell Ioan as he starts to order Jack outside again. "He'll be no good to us if he gets sick and dies, will he?"

Ioan pretends to ponder this for a few moments and then sighs. "I suppose not." He gives Jack a blanket to wrap himself in, which the latter gratefully accepts. "So, what shall we do to entertain ourselves?" Ioan looks me over, desire in his eyes.

My stomach churns; there's no way I want him to have sex with me. "Not that." I may be well enough to sit upright on the bed without too much pain but I'm not going to do that, especially in front of Jack.

"Why not? You're feeling better, aren't you?"

"Not that much better," I reply honestly.

Ioan wanders casually over to me. "Oh, I'm sure we'll be able to do something," he comments, trailing a hand through my hair. "Maybe I'll see what you can do with that mouth of yours first."

Somehow, I don't think I'm going to be able to dissuade him. Using Jack's adopted native language, I order him to go to his tent. I can see by his eyes that he doesn't want to obey but he knows he has no choice.

When we are alone, Ioan's hand tightens in my hair. "What did you do that for?"

"I don't want an audience." I don't want Jack to see me with another man.

Ioan accepts that with a nod and then undoes his trousers with one hand, allowing his erection to spring forward level with my face. "Time for another lesson then."

****

Half an hour later, Ioan is thoroughly spent. He made me pleasure him with my mouth and then he turned me onto my stomach before entering me. He took his time so that I wouldn't be jolted too much, which in a strange way was quite considerate. However, that made my muscles very sore so I won't be able to sit properly for awhile.

Ioan pulls me into his arms so that we are both lying on our sides - fortunately for me, it's my left unbruised side. "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?" There is a touch of concern in his voice and face.

"No." Nothing worth mentioning anyway.

His fingers gently stroke the side of my face. "You're so beautiful," he says softly. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I know." In his own way, he does care about me but not as Jack does.

"Some of the villagers escaped," he informs me out of the blue. "I let them go. For you."

"Tha-thank you." I'm not so naïve though as to believe it was solely for my sake - survivors would spread the word not to cross Ioan and his warband. At least he didn't slaughter them all but it still doesn't change the way I now feel about him.

He kisses me then, slow and lingering. Yesterday morning, that would have aroused me; today, I feel nothing.

"The rain has stopped," he observes neutrally. "I have to attend to my duties. Do you wish to bathe?"

"Yes, please." Anything to get Ioan's touch off my skin.

He nods. "I don't understand this wish to bathe so often but I will send an escort with you and the slave." He slips out of bed and quickly dresses. Then he gives me one last kiss before leaving.

When he has gone, I sit up slowly, my body sore, and dress also. Then when the guards come, they follow me to Jack's tent and then to the river. The water is freezing and stings my wounds, making me feel even worse. Jack's angry gaze burns into my back but I don't turn around as I don't want the guards looking at me more than they already are. Even if I wanted to escape at the moment, I don't think I could as this short journey is already tiring me; pain tends to sap one's strength.

When we go back to the tent, I lie down on the bed immediately, breathing hard. My back feels like it's on fire so I settle on my stomach, my head facing to the right. Jack sits beside the bed and places his hand on my arm. "/Are you alright?/" he asks.

"/I'm fine./" In a day or so when I no longer feel pain with every movement, that will actually be true.

"/I'm beginning to learn that means you're not,/" Jack counters dryly, his hand shifting to my cheek, his thumb stroking.

I close my eyes and let the warmth I feel at his touch wash through me. Suddenly, I realise that this is the way I want to wake up every morning, with Jack beside me, caressing me. Me, who up until a few days ago, had never truly desired to be with a man in the carnal sense. "/That's nice./"

"/If you like this, just wait until I get you alone,/" Jack promises; I can hear the desire in his voice and it thrills me.

Opening my eyes, his unguarded expression shows how much he wants me. "/I don't think I can escape yet,/" I inform him. If the trip to the stream was anything to go by, I won't have enough energy to go far from camp for at least another few days, probably more like a week.

Jack nods, agreeing with me. "/You just get better. I'll figure everything out./"

The way I'm feeling right now, I will let him do that.

****

The next three weeks pass very slowly. My back heals gradually until I can move without any pain. Unfortunately, this means that Ioan demands more from me. Sometimes the mating brings pleasure but more often, it doesn't. I think it's because I'm falling more in love with Jack as we spend more time together. I'm becoming fluent in Jack's dialect of Gaelic, and he in Greek and Latin, so we can converse more. And whenever we can, we steal touches unseen by anyone else.

It's so hard not letting anything show. There are times when I think I've given my feelings away in front of Ioan but since both Jack and I are still alive, he must not have noticed. Either that, or he is biding his time. Living with him for several weeks has given me some understanding of him but other things still remain a mystery.

"[You're thinking again,]" Ioan comments from beside me on the bed. His right hand moves to rest on my chest, subtly pinning me in place. "[What were you thinking about?]"

"[You.]" That, at least, is true.

His hand starts to caress my skin as he continues to gaze down at me. I force myself to meet his eyes, determined not to let him see that he is not the one I want touching me. "[Are you happy with me?]" he asks suddenly.

How can I answer that? Better tell him what he wants to hear. "[Yes, I am.]"

"[Then why do you not receive pleasure from our matings?]" he questions as his hand drifts down to highlight the lack of evidence on my stomach. "[Does your back still pain you?]"

I grab the excuse with relief. "[Sometimes.]" That's not exactly a lie.

He doesn't apologise, just stares at me as if assessing the truth of my words. "[Some of my men believe that you are well, that you are just trying to delay proving your place with us.]"

That's not entirely inaccurate - I am trying to delay that demonstration as long as possible - so I try to deflect the statement. "[Do you need me to prove my loyalty?]" I ask, smiling guilelessly up at Ioan. I haven't tried to run away - yet - nor have I attempted to kill him, so from my point of view, I am being loyal.

Ioan actually chuckles at my question. "[I should because you are Roman but there is something about you...]" He brings his hand up to trace one finger over my lips. "[You make me want to trust you.]"

A small part of me feels guilty that I'm betraying that trust by being planning to be with Jack; for all his faults, I do still actually like Ioan. In different circumstances, he would be a good ally.

"[However, my men are not so influenced by your charms,]" Ioan points out, his hand shifting to my chest. "[Tomorrow, my men and I will hunt. In two days time, we go to collect a tithe from another village. You will accompany us.]" It's not a request.

I nod, letting him now that I will do that. But secretly, in my heart, I hope that Jack has a way out tomorrow.

****

The next day, half an hour after Ioan and his men leave, Jack and I go down to the stream with our guards. Once there, I start to take off my tunic when Jack suddenly springs into action. His shackles fall away from his wrists and he takes out the two guards easily, stripping them of their cloaks and swords. "/Here/," he says, handing one of each to me.

"/What are you doing?/" I can't help asking as I accept the items. And how did he get those shackles undone?

"/What do you think? I'm helping you escape./" Jack unbuckles the sword sheaths and then gives one to me. "/This is what you wanted, isn't it?/"

"/Yes, but--/" This is exactly what I want but it has taken me by surprise.

"/We have a few hours before they'll come looking for us/," Jack continues as he joins the guards together with his own shackles. "/We'll go across the stream and lose them on the other side./" Finished with attaching the stolen items to himself, Jack helps me with mine. Then he takes my hand and leads me into the stream.

"/We don't have any food/," I protest as the cold water reaches my thighs. We're walking diagonally across the stream in the hopes that Ioan won't find our trail.

"/Don't worry. I have everything planned/," Jack assures me as we reach the other side. "/Can you run?/"

"/Yes./" At least, I hope I can because if I can't and Ioan catches us, we're dead.

"/Good./" Still holding my hand, Jack starts running, forcing me to do likewise.

Although I can walk for miles, running is a different matter. It isn't long before my legs and lungs start to protest but I push myself onwards, determined not to let Jack down.

We take brief breaks every once in awhile but other than that, we keep running for several hours, which has put plenty of distance between us and the camp. Jack forages some food for us - berries and nuts - and when we finish eating, we move out again, this time at a fast walk.

"/How do you know where we're going?/" I ask at one point.

"/Just trust me/," Jack replies confidently.

So I do.

****

It is mid-afternoon before we hear the sounds of horses somewhere behind us. Jack explains to me that given the lack of tracks near the river, Ioan has probably sent warriors out in several directions in the hopes of finding us. When they locate our tracks, someone will likely go back to fetch Ioan and then we'll have the whole encampment on our trail.

We come across another small stream and Jack leads me into it. The water only reaches my ankles which makes it easier to travel quickly, and we walk downstream several hundred metres before we head into the forest again.

Just before nightfall, Jack spies a fallen tree that is almost covered by brambles. He urges me into the small hiding space between the brambles and the tree, then says, "/Stay put. I'm going to lay a false trail, see if I can get them to look somewhere else./"

I nod, too exhausted to say anything, and curl up in the small space, tucking my knees to my chest. It's going to be a cosy fit with the both of us but I won't be complaining.

He comes back after what feels like a long time and spoons up behind me. His arms curve across my stomach, and for the first time I am able to feel how his body feels against mine. It is good. We fit perfectly together, and the heat from his body seeps through my skin.

"/This is nice,/" Jack comments as rain starts to fall. The water does not come through into our little hiding space, which is good because then we can at least be comfortable. And the rain will hopefully wash away our tracks. He extends his cloak around me, creating extra warmth. "/How is that?/" he asks quietly.

"/Good,/" I reply equally as softly, relishing the feel of him. I have huddled with men for warmth before but this... this is completely different.

"/Unless they have torches with them, they won't be able to search in the dark,/" Jack states, his breath warm against the side of my face. We haven't heard the horses since crossing the stream again but we don't know whether anyone is searching on foot. "/We'll move out at daybreak, get some more distance between us./"

I nod. "/How long until we reach the village?/"

"/Another day, maybe more./"

That would make sense - the villagers wouldn't have been fighting too far away from their home. I turn my head and look at Jack in the dimming light. He turns also and suddenly our lips meet. The thrill that goes through me is like nothing I have ever felt before. Desire courses through me, and my penis stiffens in desperate need.

My hand comes up from beneath the cloak to rest on Jack's stubbled cheek but I'm not conscious of anything else. All I know is the heat in my body and Jack's presence all around me.

After an eternity, Jack pulls back slightly, his breathing harsh and ragged. One of his hands has slipped under my leather vest to rest on my stomach, and the touch burns my skin. "/I, uh.../"

"/I know./" Words can't describe what just happened between us. I never knew that I could feel so powerfully about anyone, especially a man. The feeling seems to be mutual if the prominent bulge pressed against my hip is anything to go by.

His free hand comes to rest over mine for a moment, then his lips graze my palm before he draws my hand back under the cloak. "/I love you./"

My heart skips a beat at the words. "/I love you too./" We have only known each other for a short time but the words are true nonetheless.

He kisses me once more and then just holds me close, no more words needing to be said.

****

Morning is a long time in coming. We both get some sleep but when the rain begins to seep into our sanctuary, we become too cold to slumber.

At dawn's light, we ease out of the brambles, receiving more scratches for our efforts, and hurry on our way. We move quickly for hours, stopping occasionally for rest and to eat or drink when we can. Twice we hear horses and hide, not knowing whether it is friend or foe. We know that Ioan won't give up his search but he only has a small amount of warriors and there is a large area to search.

There is more rain, helping to hide our flight, but we press on regardless. By nightfall, I am exhausted and freezing but Jack wants to continue on. "/We're only two miles from the village,/" he urges.

My body doesn't want to obey but I dig deep and find the strength to go on. I don't question how he knows where we are in the dark either; I simply trust him.

It is completely dark by the time we reach the village, only a sliver of moonlight guiding our way. I'm hungry and exhausted but don't complain as Jack stops just outside the village and guides me to sit on the wet ground.

"/I'll go in by myself,/" he tells me, "/and see if I can find my cousin Bridei. If he can get his crew together, we'll set sail tonight./"

"/Why can't I go with you?/" I question.

"/The less who see you, the better. That way, no-one will have to lie if Ioan's men come here/," he explains.

I nod, showing my understanding.

Jack cups my cheek briefly and I can see him smile in the moonlight. "/We'll be home soon, I promise./"

"/Good./" I rest back against a nearby tree and stare at Jack's retreating figure. Home. That sounds very good indeed.

****

It seems forever until Jack comes back to me, moving silently across the wet ground. "/I found him/," Jack states as he helps me to my feet. "/He's gone to get the boat ready./"

"/Boat?/" Not a ship? "/Will that get us to Eire?/"

"/To be sure./" Jack slips an arm around my waist and then leads me around the edge of the village. "/See how the weather has cleared up now? That means that the sea should be calm. There's a light breeze so if we put the sail up, it should help push us towards Eire; if it doesn't, then we'll have to row./"

Sailing not being one of my skills, I will have to trust Jack's word on this. But I still have questions. "/How will the village explain the absence of their men?/"

"/Simple. They've gone fishing. It's not unusual for fishing boats to go out for several days in search of food./" We step onto the small strip of sand where the boat has been beached. Six men are rapidly approaching from the village and I take it that they are the fishermen, although one is likely Jack's cousin Bridei. Jack lifts a hand to them in greeting then turns back to our conversation. "/On their way back, they'll collect fish and then it won't be a lie./"

Jack seems to have planned everything. He helps me into the boat and then assists the men in freeing the boat from its rest. When the boat is afloat, he jumps in beside me and encourages me to lie down out of the way of the others. "/Get some rest/," he tells me, running a hand briefly through my hair.

My body is so tired that I don't argue. I close my eyes and let the gentle sway of the boat lull me to sleep.

****

When I wake, it is daylight. I turn my head slightly and see that Jack is sleeping beside me. A smile touches my lips; he looks so peaceful, his face free of the anger that was his almost constant companion back in Ioan's camp. I start to reach out to touch his face but realise that there are others around us, others who might not approve of our love. I know that taking pleasure from men isn't frowned upon by many in both Eire and Britannia but love between them is. Previously, I thought I understood why that would be; now, I'm not so sure. This love between us, between two men who have never loved a man before, cannot be wrong. However, many will see it as such, and Jack's clan may ask him to choose between them and me. Selfishly, I hope he chooses me but since he has a family, I know that probably won't be true.

****

The breeze disappears around mid-morning and everyone then has to take it in turns to row, even me. We make good time though, and reach Eire's shores by nightfall.

That night, we take shelter under the trees, keeping distance between us and the other men. Jack takes me into his arms and we lie together, not speaking but just being. We cannot make love with the others nearby so I must be content to just lie with Jack.

I could definitely get used to this.

****

Waking up in his arms is a wonderful feeling; I could stay like this all day. Unfortunately, I know we have to get up soon so that we can continue on to his village.

"{Morning}," Jack says and I lift my head to look at his smiling face.

"{Morning.}" Realising we haven't kissed in two days, I shift upwards slightly and press my lips to his. The love and desire that course through my body convince me that our pairing is meant to be.

He pulls back first and I open my eyes to see his reaction. Jack looks happy and aroused; I imagine my expression is similar. "/Was that as good for you as it was for me?/" he jokes.

"/Definitely./" At the moment, I can't even feel my body's aches and pains.

"/Good. Much as I would love for us to explore further, we need to get moving./" He makes no effort to move though.

"/We should/," I agree, remaining where I am.

He grins at me, clearly not in any hurry. "/You know, I could definitely get used to this./"

"/So could I./" Being here with Jack is nothing like it was with Ioan.

After a few more minutes, hearing the men stirring nearby, Jack slowly sits up, reluctant to move. "/We'd better get going./"

"/I know./" The sooner we get home, the better.

Jack assists me to stand as all my muscles have stiffened during the night, and then kisses me again. "/Let's go home./"

****

It takes a day of solid walking to reach Jack's village, although we are in no hurry. For much of the time, we held hands and smiled shyly at each other - well, I did the latter, Jack's smiles seemed much more confident. He isn't new to these kinds of feelings whereas I am. Also, I am nervous about the reception I will get from his clan, and am growing more so the closer we get to it. Will they accept me, especially when Jack claims me as he says he will do? Somehow, I doubt it.

He lets go of my hand when we see the first villager and I feel a sense of loss. Still, I cannot begrudge him a good homecoming.

As we enter the village, three young children rush towards him. He gathers them into his arms and I realise they must be his children. How are they going to react to me essentially taking their mother's place in Jack's affections?

When Jack straightens up again, he is carrying a boy of about four years. The other two - a boy of nine summers and a girl of six - cling to his sides, never wanting to let go. I don't blame them.

"{Children, I'd like you to meet Daniel,}" Jack says in words that I can understand. We have spoken mainly in Latin previously but as we walked today, he taught me some more of his Gaelic dialect. Some of the words are similar to the dialect I know but there are others that have changed. "{He's going to be staying with us. Daniel, this is Aiden-,}" the boy in his arms, "{-Bridget and Galen.}"

"{Hello.}" They all stare at me, obviously wondering why I'm coming to live with them. "{I've heard lots about you.}" Jack told me many stories on the boat trip, which served to make me more nervous about this meeting.

"{You speak strange.}" Bridget looks at me with eyes like her father.

"{That's because he's from a different place,}" Jack answers for me.

"{A celebration!}" someone in the crowd cries out, and everyone cheers in response.

As people move towards the large meeting hall, Jack gestures for me to come with him. Nervously, I fall into step beside him, aware of his children's eyes on me. Jack smiles reassuringly at me and then leads us to where the rest of the villagers are gathering.

Music and laughter fill the air as the men's return is celebrated. Mourning those lost will come later, so Jack tells me as we sit on one of the benches near the wall. He keeps me by his side while Aiden sits on his lap; Galen is seated on Jack's other side. Bridget, presumably to stay close to her father, climbs onto my lap. For a moment, I don't know what to do as she snuggles close to Jack, then I gingerly hold onto her so that she doesn't fall off.

Bridget looks curiously up at me. "{Are you our new Ma?}"

Jack squeezes my waist as he grins at my surprised expression. "{Well, Daniel?}" he prompts.

How do I answer that question? "{I, uh...}"

Taking pity on me, Jack tells his daughter, "{No, he's not your new Ma. But you're very lucky because he's going to be your second Da.}" He looks at me with love in his eyes, which warms me. A few weeks ago, if someone had told me that I would be loved by a Celtic man and love him in return, I would have thought them crazy. But now...

An older woman of perhaps fifty-five years suddenly appears in front of us, her eyes alight with joy. The same brown eyes as Jack, I realise as the woman greets him enthusiastically. Jack grins as he hugs her and then he introduces me, stating that I will be living with him.

The woman turns to me and looks me over appraisingly. After a minute, she turns back to Jack. "{No.}"

"{I'm a grown man, Ma, I can live with whoever I please,}" Jack states firmly.

"{Not with a man,}" she argues, a stubborn set to her jaw which reminds me of Jack.

"{Your vision said that I would find a soulmate with blue eyes. Daniel has blue eyes and he is definitely my soulmate.}"

A vision? Did Jack fall in love with me because of a vision?

"{A woman with blue eyes, not a man. The elders won't accept it.}"

Jack's jaw sets a stubbornly as his mother's. "{They'll have no choice. As I am clan leader, they cannot overturn my decision.}"

"{You have been away for too long, Jack,}" she informs him, crossing her arms over her chest. "{Your decision will hold no sway unless someone stands with you.}"

I wonder who will do that. Jack's cousin Bridei has returned to Britannia as he has a wife there, and I don't know whether there are any others in this village who will stand by Jack.

"{Ma, if it wasn't for Daniel, I wouldn't be here now.}" Jack proceeds to tell her how I saved his life, adding on the end, "{-and it was then that I knew that there was something special about him.}"

My cheeks redden at the praise and I duck my head. No-one except my mother has thought me special.

"{You've only known him for a few days.}" She is not impressed.

"{A month. And that is all I need to know that I love him.}" Jack holds her gaze, not backing down.

"{I like Daniel,}" Aiden suddenly says, surprising everyone. "{He doesn't have a family anymore and that makes him sad but he's happy with Da.}"

There is a few seconds of silence and then Jack looks at me again, the grin back on his face. "{Did I mention that seeing runs in the family?}"

"{No, you didn't.}" How did Aiden know that about me? That's uncanny and somewhat unnerving.

"{We're going to be Daniel's family from now on, aren't we, Da?}" Aiden looks to his father for confirmation.

Jack squeezes his son's middle. "{That we are, Aiden. You're absolutely correct.}"

Aiden beams with happiness at the praise, and it occurs to me that I can never remember my father praising me, even when I was young. Mother did but never my father - why not? I wonder whether it's related to why he could sell me off as a slave?

A tall dark-haired man appears just then, a babe in his arms. "{Aunt Rhian, Caitrin needs you. She says Ela's having the baby early.}"

Jack's mother excuses herself and hurries off into the crowd. The man winks at Jack, grins at me, and then disappears as well.

"{So,}" Jack says, turning to me, "{enjoying yourself so far?}"

I can't stop a smile from forming at the question. Jack had demonstrated to me on the boat that he has a dry sense of humour and I think I'll see more of it now that he's home. "{Oh yes, it's a million laughs.}"

"{I knew you'd like it.}"

****

The celebration seems to go on for hours, well into the night. The birth of Ela's son, safe and hearty, prolongs the celebration but eventually, the party winds down. Word got around quickly that Jack was claiming me as his soul mate, and that his mother didn't approve, and the villagers tended just to stare at us after that rather than involve us in the celebration.

Jack's children all fell asleep hours ago, Bridget in my arms. My limbs got tired after awhile but I didn't dare put her down, not with all the dancing going on around us. Holding her gave me an excuse not to attempt conversation with anyone and to stay with Jack; I didn't want my back to start aching again.

Jack wakes Galen so that the boy can walk, and then we all go to their home. While Jack has been away, the children have been living with Rhian but now she will move out so that we can have some privacy.

We put the children to bed - Galen on one cot, the younger two on another, and then Jack leads me to where a larger bed has been partitioned off from the rest of the house.

"{Welcome to our home,}" he whispers in my ear, carefully hugging me from behind.

Our home. It amazes me that Jack is so accepting of me after only a short time together. Which raises a point... "/Are you sure this is alright?/" Rhian didn't look too happy when we left.

"/They are not going to throw us out tonight./" A kiss to the side of my neck sends shivers down my spine. "/Besides, the most important thing is that the children like you, which they do. So stop worrying and come to bed./" He encourages me forward, his arms still wrapped me.

"/Jack, we can't.../" I'm suddenly nervous about sharing a bed where he used to lie with his wife.

"/We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with,/" he states quietly as he moves to sit on the bed and holds out a hand to me. "/Lie with me./"

I join him and he wraps me in his arms again; his touch is so gentle. "/I love you,/" I tell him as I rest my head next to his on the pillow.

"/Sweet./" He draws me into a long kiss, full of love. "/I love you too./"

My body hums with a lazy pleasure just from that one kiss; it is way ahead of my mind. The knowledge that he loves me adds warmth to that pleasure. "/I hope I don't disappoint you./"

"/You won't./" Jack sounds confident about that.

This relationship isn't going to be easy but we'll make it work because I'm certain that being here is right. I close my eyes and relax, certain I am safe and that I have finally found where I belong. Even if the villagers throw us out tomorrow, I will be with Jack and that, I think, will be all I need to be happy.