Typhon_An Ancient Roman Reverse Harem Romance

by Nhys Glover

  I drew horizontal lines from either side across to the road.

  “But I can see how Typhon can now easily find the road. He just has to travel north or north west. But unless we know which X is ours we could wander completely off track,” Orion pointed out.

  I frowned. Of course, he was right. Why had I not found out where each would be placed? But that would have smacked of cheating. I shrugged helplessly.

  Then it hit me. The stream! Because it ran roughly diagonally to the Xs, the first X on the north would meet the stream first, the last person on the south would find it last. I pictured the key and tried to work out distances.

  I trembled a little under the weight of the responsibility. If I made a mistake I could get them all completely lost. They might die out there trying to find a road that was, in reality, miles away.

  “If you find the stream, you know you will eventually find each other,” I pointed out.

  “Again, you need your position to decide if you should go up or down stream to meet the road and the others,” Orion again found the hole in my idea.

  I studied the drawing, determined to find a way to make this work. I had not wanted to interfere with their initiation, as it was Pater’s, after all. But the safety of my pack was more important. Typhon’s safety was more important than any program.

  “Look at the way the stream is closest to the first X and farthest from the last. If you find the stream during the first day of walking you are on the north side and need only go downstream from there until you come to the road. If it takes you two days to find the stream then you walk upstream until you come to the road. You could all meet up there.”

  Orion studied the map. “That could work. But whoever is farthest from the stream is at the biggest disadvantage because they would have to backtrack to reach the road. For everyone else it makes sense. They’d be roughly heading west.”

  “So what’re you saying? The last one to find stream just goes on alone?” Typhon asked. I could see he didn’t like this idea.

  “Aye. It would also look less like we knew ahead of time where we’re going. But I think it should be up to whoever finds themselves in this position to decide whether they have time to backtrack or not.”

  “But if we are waiting for that person...” Typhon pointed out, leaving the rest unsaid.

  Orion nodded. “Aye. That wouldn’t work. Either we all agree to meet at the stream or we agree this last person doesn’t. Then we only wait for three.”

  “As we have a time limit,” Asterius said. “Waiting for the fourth might be pushing it. Certainly walking along a road and maybe getting a lift with a passing wagon might be faster than trudging through wilderness, but we can’t afford to wait too long. And if it takes this person two days to even reach the stream, it might be another day before they could get back to where the road crosses the stream. We only have a week.”

  “What if I’m wrong?” I croaked out reluctantly. “What if I have miscalculated and the stream is either further or closer to the Xs than I thought.”

  Orion exchanged looks with his pack-mates. “I think we might need to do this alone. There are too many things that could go wrong. We could all be back here faster if we aren’t worrying about trying to meet up. And it’s not like we can’t survive out there by ourselves. We all can. Better than the others.”

  Reluctantly they agreed and I rubbed out the map with a heavy heart. I thought I could help. But clearly I couldn’t. Not this time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  TYPHON

  We stood waiting beside the wagon pulled by a team of four fast horses, which would carry us to our trial. There were benches along each side of the wagon where we would sit facing each other. The men who would take us deep into the woods to our spots would sit at our sides. Of course, we wouldn’t see the others opposite us as we would have bags over our heads.

  My hands were shaking, and I kept flexing my fists to ease the tension. I looked at the three other lads in our year, all a little smaller than me, and saw fear in their rounded eyes. When I looked at my pack-mates I saw only determination and excitement. That was how I felt. I was at a disadvantage, I knew that—having spent so much time on my back instead of on the training field in the last months—but I still felt confident.

  Because, even though we hadn’t agreed to follow Accalia’s map last night, I had decided I would. Why not? It would be foolish to ignore what I’d been handed, just as it would have been foolish to turn down the food she brought to us once a week, or turned down her sewing skills when I needed them most. One thing we were all trained to believe, you make the most of every advantage you were given. Or gave yourself.

  I saw Ariaratus and his constant shadow, Accalia, walking down the hill toward us. My heart lifted at the sight of her. When she had first started lugging the physician’s pack around for him she had staggered under the weight of it. Now she carried it with ease, including her own smaller version of the kit. She had grown up, in the few short months I’d known her, and grown stronger. I would say she had grown prettier too, but I think that was more to do with my changing feelings towards her.

  The word to climb into the wagon was given just as Ariaratus approached. The Persian made a point of stopping beside me to check on my health. I looked anywhere but at Accalia as I answered his questions. This was her doing. She was mothering me, and I didn’t want any of it.

  The sound of thundering hoofs had us all looking down the dusty road. A messenger, sweaty and dishevelled, rode up and drew rein before Xenus, who had come out to supervise our departure. I actually liked the gruff gladiator, even if he was a stickler for the rules.

  “What news?” Xenus demanded of the rider.

  Panting, the man looked around the gathering. “I was told to report the news to the Little Mistress and all on the estate. The slave, Lucullus, has escaped. He was being transported to the east coast after his sale when he took off. Though he’s unlikely to make his way back here, I was told by my master to alert you.”

  “When did this happen?” Ariaratus asked anxiously.

  “News has just reached us. Maybe a week ago.”

  My gaze went first to Accalia and then to my pack. My blood had run cold. My worst fear was being realised. I should have known avoiding it would solve nothing. My destiny was to fight Lucullus again. I knew it with every particle of my being. And my guts turned to water at the knowledge.

  “We must cancel the initiation. Until he is recaptured,” Accalia announced, as if she had a say in it.

  Everyone ignored her. She looked to Ariaratus, who grudgingly raised the subject.

  “We should postpone until we hear he’s been recaptured. The man is mad. And he has a bone to pick with Typhon. He likely considers him responsible for the loss of position here.”

  Xenus looked confused. “Typhon? Why?”

  “Natalinus questioned Lucullus’ actions leading up to Typhon’s knifing. It was at that point he started ranting, showing himself to be truly mad. It is therefore easy enough to conclude that he would consider Typhon responsible and want to take revenge on the boy. And he knew well enough when the boys were going out.”

  My mouth was dry as dust, and I swallowed a few times to wet it. Ariaratus was right. That was exactly what the man would think. And I would be out there alone. I couldn’t defeat him last time, how could I do it this time? I was not even up to my full strength.

  Xenus shook his head. “No. The chances of him heading this way are remote. The chances of him finding one of these boys in hundreds of miles of wilderness? Even less likely. We go ahead.”

  “But he would have seen the map!” exclaimed Accalia, unable to keep out of it.

  Xenus looked at her closely for the first time. I doubt he’d ever noticed her before. “How do you know about the map?”

  She became flustered and looked at Ariaratus for help. Dutifully, the physician stepped in. “I told him after our discussion the other day. I explained that all the doctores knew
where the boys would be dropped for their initiation. And he’s right, Lucullus would have seen the map and know where they’ll be.”

  Xenus shook his head again. “I’m unconvinced. No, we go ahead.”

  “Pack less one!” Accalia cried out.

  For a moment I didn’t understand, and I know everyone else must have thought her mad. But Orion, the brightest of us, nodded in understanding and then looked at the rest of us.

  “It’s the only way now,” he said.

  I understood then, too. She was telling us to follow the stream and become a pack, except for the ‘one’ person farthest south. I felt a little of the terror ebbing. If my pack could reach me in time I had a chance. Alone, there was none.

  I nodded my head silently and saw the others agreeing. Accalia let out a relieved sigh. I could see tears of fear and frustration in her cloudy grey eyes.

  I smiled over at her as I clambered into the wagon, and her face was the last thing I saw as a black hood dropped over my head and all became darkness.

  Had I not known where we were headed, I would likely have been disorientated by the darkness and the journey. Instead, I listened to the sound of the wagon travelling over roadway, felt the sun on my body coming from the east, and heard the sounds of people talking as we passed through town, before we turned into the sun to cross the mountains.

  The journey was long and tiring—bouncing around on the wooden seat in utter darkness, with no one to talk to. Even when we stopped for the night, our bags were only removed long enough for us to relieve ourselves and eat.

  My side ached constantly, but I gritted my teeth and bore it. I was a member of the Wolf Pack. We were the master’s greatest achievement. We were special. I wasn’t going to let the pack down because I wasn’t good enough, the misfit, the one who didn’t have the bloodlines required for the program.

  It was late-afternoon the following day when the wagon finally came to its destination. Our hoods were removed so we could eat and drink our fill, then replaced once we climbed down off the wagon. I couldn’t be sure how far my captor walked with me, but I know we went in circles a few times to confuse my sense of direction. When the bag was finally removed, I found myself in a small clearing with an empty fire-pit, and the sun was beginning to set, although it wouldn’t be dark for some hours yet.

  I spent the first few minutes trying to orientate myself and calm my rising panic. I was alone in the middle of nowhere and a madman was after me. A madman who was far bigger, stronger and more skilled than I was. He would also likely have come by a weapon. It would have been his first task on escaping.

  But I wouldn’t be alone for long. We had agreed to try for Accalia’s plan. We had agreed to meet at the stream crossing. All I had to do was get back to the road and then follow it west.

  But what if they changed the plan? What if they dropped me into one of the other spots? I might be in the first position to the far north. If I headed further north I’d get lost.

  Pushing down the panic, I dealt with what I knew. The chances were good the plan hadn’t changed. All I needed to do now was find some flint, collect firewood, and set up camp for the night. If there was time, I could set a snare, which might give me food for the morning, but if not, I could survive well enough without for many days. And there were plenty of berries and plants I could eat to fill my belly. Water was really the only thing I would soon need, and even if Accalia’s map was wrong, I’d still find water eventually. It ran down into the valleys, after all. There was always water there.

  I looked around. I seemed to be half way up the side of one mountainous hill. The western side. So I would be walking downhill for at least some of the first day. Then I’d have water for the uphill climb that would follow. Unless I could get a lift with a passing wagon. Or we could. But how easy would it be for three boys to get a ride with a traveller? Might they not see us as a threat?

  Many of these thoughts had already circled in my brain over the last two days of silence and darkness. I had to let them go and work with what I did know. My pack would meet me where the road crossed the stream. I would wait there until three of us arrived and then do whatever it took to get home.

  To Accalia. I needed to get home to Accalia. When I wasn’t obsessing over Lucullus or the plan, I saw her face in my mind and remembered every moment I’d spent with her. I remembered the way her lips had felt pressed against mine, sticky with raspberries. The soft grey-blue of her eyes as she told me how worried she’d been for me. And how afraid she had seemed when I told her I was going to marry her. What had frightened and saddened her about that? Maybe she was afraid of hurting me because she didn’t feel the same way? But that didn’t feel right. She wouldn’t have kissed me if she didn’t like me. Would she?

  Pushing her away yet again, I scanned the area until I found a piece of flint, all the while collecting up wood to fill the firepit. It felt good to know I was in a place that many boys had been before me. Probably all of them had been as scared as I was now, although they would have had less to fear. I would rather face a pack of wild wolves or a bear than Lucullus.

  Once I had what I needed for a fire, I looked around for a rabbit hole. We had all learned the tricks to setting snares as part of our training, but Orion had developed a few of his own, and we’d all learned from him.

  So I untied the doubly-long laces that held my sandals to my feet. We’d decided to give ourselves this advantage as we prepared for the challenge, knowing we wouldn’t be able to bring anything but the clothes on our back with us. I cut the leather strips in half, used one half for my snare, another half for a slingshot, and the remaining two halves to reattach my sandals to my feet. They weren’t as secure as they had been, but I’d need the leather for a snare more than once. And a sling-shot would be useful for defence at all times.

  Once the snare was set just outside the rabbit hole, I returned to the clearing and began work on making a fire. The flint was hard on the hands, but easy enough to strike a flame with. And once I’d lit the small pile of tinder, I just kept adding more and more wood to it until I had a nice blaze.

  By then the sun was setting and the feel of the woods had changed. I knew this feeling. Most people would associate it with danger. And they’d be right. The woods were always more dangerous at night. But for me darkness in the woods meant freedom and pleasure, all thanks to our regular gatherings.

  What would happen when we had to stop for winter? How would I stand not seeing Accalia all that time?

  Again I pushed thoughts of her away. My task was to survive long enough to worry about winter when it came. That meant making sure the fire stayed bright enough to keep away wolves and to sleep, resting my body for the rigors of the day to come. The night before I’d had trouble sleeping with a bag over my head. I kept worrying I might suffocate, even though the bag was hessian and had a coarse weave that allowed in plenty of air and some light.

  The ache in my side had lessened once I could stand up again, and now, as I reclined beside the fire, I barely felt it. Sleep came surprisingly fast.

  But not for long. The fire was still blazing brightly when rustling nearby woke me. I knew it was likely wolves or other predators attracted to the scent of man, but I had to be sure.

  I’d collected several sharp rocks for my slingshot. If I’d had more leather strips I’d have fashioned an axe. Maybe if I snared a rabbit I could cut the skin into strips to bind a rock to a stout branch.

  The noise came again. The fingers of my right hand tightened around the leather strap of the sling shot, while my left clutched a sharp stone. If the slingshot stone missed its mark, I would still have something to defend myself with.

  I recognised the sound. Human feet stealthily making their way around the perimeter of the fire. Whoever it was, wasn’t a woodsman. His footfalls were like thunder. We had all been taught how to move in the wild by our survival doctores. The man lived in the forest and only came down to the barracks for our lessons. He was a little mad, but not in t
he way Lucullus was mad. The master made allowances for him, giving him a level of freedom few other slaves had, because of his invaluable skills.

  “Ah... so they gave you the easiest placement did they, boy?” A familiar voice said from the shadows. I could tell the direction the voice came but nothing else.

  “I wondered if you’d survive. I hoped you had, so I could get a second chance at you. I dreamed of that sweet arse from the moment I stepped into the barracks, you know? You orientals are special. Extra... talented.”

  My blood had frozen in my veins and my body couldn’t move. Terror unlike anything I’d ever experienced kept me trapped in my own skin. The more he talked about what he was going to do to me, the more he rattled me. It was a battle tactic, I knew. But I couldn’t seem to do anything to counter its effect.

  I knew what males could do to boys. It was what boys whispered about and feared when they first came into the barracks. Their fear was not from the tutors and doctores, those we trusted, but from other older boys. But Lucullus had changed all that. At least for me.

  “And when I’ve had you until you bleed, I’ll gut you and leave you for the wolves. I think having wolves tear at your innards while you watch would be a painful death, don’t you, slant eyes? Maybe I’ll stay to watch too. After all, you cost me everything. All you had to do was obey and it would have been over fast enough. Instead... Instead you caused us both a lot of pain and inconvenience. Does your side still hurt? I wasn’t sure they’d let you do your initiation in your condition.”

  I saw him then. Or the shadow of him, moving around the periphery, his voice moving with him. I could see what he was doing, trying to get behind me. I was on my side facing him now, the fire between us. When he was behind me he would attack.

  Willing myself to move, I was relieved when my body responded to the command. I jumped to my feet, slingshot and stone in hand. I faced the shadow. I faced my worst nightmare with the fire to my left.

  Using a slingshot was an art, our Celtic doctores had told us. The aim was to have speed and precision. Your target couldn’t help but anticipate your attack as you began to swing the sling around, so you had to also anticipate which way he would move to try to miss the flying stone. You could only do that by watching his eyes.