Date: Tue, 3 Dec 2013 20:45:43 +0000
From: Magnus Seagreen <seagreenmagnus@outlook.com>
Subject: Magnus the Mage 1

Introduction to Magnus the Mage

This is a fantasy novella set in a parallel universe.  Influences of many
other writers will be readily discernible, but I am particularly indebted
to George Gauthier.  Like his nifty story "Elf boy and friends", my story
also features elves and a unicorn (though not in the first few chapters) -
amongst others - but I hope he will accept the similarities as a hommage
and not as plagiarism.  There are after all many differences of style,
character and narrative.

Needless to say, this work contains descriptions of sexual acts which,
although legal in the jurisdictions where they occurred, may not be where
you are.  (We live in a world where men are criminalised in some countries
for possessing cartoon images of elves and other fantasy creatures.  I do
not believe fantasy creatures need to be protected by the criminal code.
In any case, no fantasy creatures were harmed in the writing of this
story).

The usual cautions apply.  If you don't like teenage gay sex, then don't
read on.

This is my first story for nifty.  I hope you enjoy it.  I welcome feedback
to seagreenmagnus@outlook.com

Chapter One: At the Villa of the Lady Domitia


A light rain was falling as Magnus walked towards the villa, careful to
lift the hems of his seagreen cloak so that it did not trail in the mud.
Although it was early November, the rain and the breeze were pleasantly
cool; frost was a rarity this far south.  A heavy ox cart rumbled by in the
opposite direction, filled with ore from the mine whose outworkings were
visible a short distance away.

Magnus was on his way to buy a slave from the villa up ahead, although he
would have liked to have bought one of the slaves who he knew toiled
miserably in the mine.  Their lot was the hardest of any slaves in the
Empire, and it would have pleased him to have liberated one from the
terrible conditions they endured to have him as his body slave, but this
was not an option, for all the mines were the property of the Emperor, and
mine slaves were not for sale.  Except perhaps for those so broken through
over work and bad treatment that they were of no further use - they were
sometimes sold off cheaply.  But he had no use for those broken in body and
spirit.

At the door of the villa the elderly major domo greeted him deferentially
and led him through the portico where he was brought into the presence of
the Notary Vergilio, who was seated at a table consulting a sheaf of
parchments with his clerk.  Vergilio was a tall man robed in black, like
all lawyers, and was also bald, saturnine, and dyspeptic.  The affairs of
the late widow whose villa this was were in some disarray, and he was
feeling disagreeable because he reflected that had he realised this he
would have pushed for a higher fee.

"Good afternoon, Mage.  I received your message.  Allow me to show you the
item for sale."  He rose and led the way to one of the inner rooms.  It was
obvious that the villa was now in new hands: many items of furniture had
already been removed, and most of those remaining had sale dockets
attached; a large tapestry which had lately been removed from the wall was
in the process of being rolled up by a young slave.  "The new owner has
different tastes from his late kinsman", remarked Vergilio, "and has left
instructions for all the fixtures and fittings to be sold off.  Including
the body slave of the late Lady Domitia. Here boy!" He said to the slave.

The slave straightened up and approached them, head modestly down, and
hands held loosely behind his back.  Like all young male slaves, he was
naked; he wore only a simple collar of brown leather which still bore the
sigil of his late mistress.  His nudity, his collar, and his circumcised
status all made him instantly recognisable as a slave.  Magnus admired the
clean limbs and strong musculature, though the lad was not full grown.  His
hair was dark brown and covered his ears; his white skin showed that he was
a household slave, not used to working out of doors.

Magnus lifted the boy's chin and looked at him carefully.  "Your name?"
"Callixtus, master."  The boy's eyes, which were pleasingly blue, met
Magnus's own grey ones.  For the first time in his life, Callixtus came
face to face with a mage.  He saw a man of middle height clad in a
blue-green cloak and white tunic, with muddied sandals and a sturdy ashen
staff.  Magnus was trim and powerfully built, with broad shoulders, and his
grey hair was cropped short.  He wore a carefully trimmed grey beard.  His
gaze was steady and penetrating.

Magnus beheld a pretty youth of fourteen or fifteen, whose head was level
with the mage's chest.  He opened the boy's mouth with his finger and
examined his teeth - they were white and in good condition.  He slid his
hand over the boy's shoulders, gently squeezing the firm muscles, then - in
a move which startled the boy slightly - he stooped his head and pressed
his ear against Callixtus's chest.  He listened to the regular sound of the
boy's breathing, then slid his hand down to his genitals, which seemed to
be of a slightly above average size - though of course a connoisseur like
Magnus knew there could be a world of difference between the male member in
its flacid and excited state.  He bent down to make a careful examination
of the penis, holding it between thumb and forefinger, and gently squeezed
the large ball sac.  The boy stood very still, scarcely breathing, and gave
no reaction except for a sharp intake of breath.

Magnus motioned him to turn around with a twirl of his finger, and slid his
arm over the good broad shoulders, and down the small of the back, gently
caressing the perfectly globular buttocks.  A fine specimen indeed.

"May I?" said Magnus, glancing at Vergilio as he produced a small silk
handkerchief from inside his tunic.  "Of course", shrugged the lawyer.  The
boy glanced over his shoulder, somewhat nervously, and Magnus said "Touch
your ankles please".  He did so, and Magnus parted his bum cheeks to
examine his very sweet and totally hairless cherry; then he licked his
index finger and inserted it.  Callixtus juddered at the unexpected
intrusion but remained bent over as Magnus gave him a brief exploration as
far as the first joint on his finger before withdrawing it and wiping it
fastidiously on the silk - although the boy was clean and smelt fresh, he
was pleased to note.  Fresh and virginal.  Yes, he thought, he will do very
nicely.

Less than ten minutes later, after a quantity of gold and silver coins had
been counted out and the Sale Parchment handed over, Callixtus had his
brown leather collar removed and replaced by a smaller and lighter black
leather twist from which hung a silver medal engraved with the lightning
flash sigil of Magnus's ownership and also a wolf's tooth charm on a
separate thin strip of leather.  Simple though these items were, and still
clearly indicating he was a slave, they nevertheless marked Callixtus's new
status as the property of a Mage, and no longer a mere household slave to a
decrepit old lady.

So Callixtus left the Villa of the Lady Domitia for the last time - a place
he had known so long that he could scarcely remember anything of his former
life, for he was only five or six years old when he had first been brought
here.  He had arrived with nothing, and he left with nothing - not a single
possession, and not a stitch of clothing - Vergilio was not going to
diminish the value of the property due to his client by allowing him to
take anything with him.  As he followed the Mage along the road away from
the villa, muddying his bare feet on the wet road surface, he felt the rain
and the breeze on his bare skin and shivered slightly, though with
apprehension as much as cold.  Life in the villa had been tedious and
boring but at least safe and predictable.  What did his new life hold in
store?  What was expected of him? He had no idea, and was too shy and in
awe of his new master to ask any questions.  Besides, it was not the place
of a slave to ask too many questions.

The Mage and his new slave walked in silence for about half an hour, during
which time they arrived at an inn whose sign bore a painted likeness of
General Gracchus.  This was an Imperial commander, now deceased, who had
distinguished himself in the wars along the south west border of the Empire
some sixty years ago.  The inn had been purchased by a senior non-
commissioned officer who had served in the General's campaigns and enriched
himself in the process.  On retiring from the service he passed his
remaining years as the Landlord of the inn, which had now passed to his
grandson.

All of this was known to Magnus, for the Landlord Salticus was an old
acquaintance.  Magnus had healed his servant boy of a badly broken leg when
the lad was kicked by a recalcitrant horse he was tending in the stables.
Magnus was committed to alleviating suffering where he could, and the boy
had the added attraction of being very easy on the eye.  The mage was able
to use his magical powers to cause a complete healing of the badly broken
leg so that no mark or scar was visible.  The boy, who had been in agony,
was completely healed in the space of twenty minutes, to the general awe of
all who saw it.  Magnus was indeed rather proud of this achievement - only
rarely did healing magic produce such dramatic results.  Of course, it was
to a large extent dependent on the intensity of emotion the healer was able
to call up.  Had it been Salticus's fat and unattractive daughter - who
also waited at table in the inn - Magnus doubted if he could have performed
so impressively.

Callixtus had been shivering in the rain, unprotected from the elements as
he was, so it was something of a relief to step inside the crowded inn.
His senses were immediately assailed: the hubbub of noise from the large
company talking together, almost masking the sound of a lute being
inexpertly twanged somewhere nearby; the warmth of the large fire, with its
assemblage of cauldrons and spits, and the delicious smells of beef stew
which came from the cauldron.  There were other smells too - wet dog, and
the smell of generally unwashed people clad in linen or leather, some of
whom were steaming dry after a recent rainsoaking.

"Greetings Sir Mage!" said the Landlord, a small wiry man who in no way
resembled his now deceased and militarily imposing sergeant major
grandfather, except perhaps in his tendency to affix unnecessary titles to
people's names.  Magnus was not entitled to the prefix of a knight; to
address him simply as "Mage" would have been formal and correct enough.

"It's been too long since your last visit, worthy sir! Ho there wife - wine
and vittles for our guest!  Lepidus! Where is that boy? Tell Lepidus that
the Mage who healed him is here - tell him to come quickly and pay his
respects!  Sir Mage, you will find this stew of the very finest - made from
cattle fattened on the lush pastures down by the Great River - with garlic
and herbs from my own garden according to a special recipe of my
mother's... Ah there you are at last Lepidus!"

Lepidus was a short and slim youth of about seventeen clad in the typical
clothing of a young man of his station - a short tunic of unbleached linen
which came down a little above the elbows, and a little above the knees,
secured with a simple leather belt; and leather sandals.  The soft folds of
the garment hung pleasingly about his well knit frame.  This was Samnite
country, the heart of the Empire, and the youth was a typical example of
that race, being brown eyed and brown haired, with a light olive complexion
and fine smooth legs.  His hair followed Imperial fashion in being cropped
short, leaving the ears free. He grinned happily when he saw Magnus.  "And
how is your leg, dear boy?"  "Never even a twinge, thank you Master Mage."
The landlord's fat wife added, in a voice choked with emotion, "The
blessings of the ancestors be on you, Mage Magnus, for the wonderful skill
and care you took of this poor lad.  Such a good lad he is too, I don't
know how we could manage without him!"  Lepidus continued to grin.

Magnus took a seat on a bench at a small wooden table while the landlord's
wife served him with a plate of steaming stew.  Lepidus poured him a goblet
of red wine.  "That's my best vintage for you, Sir Mage!" the landlord
said.  "And on the house!"  Magnus adopted a genial expression and raised
his goblet.  "Your very good health, Salticus, and to your lady wife.  May
you have prosperity and length of years!"

Callixtus stood nearby, uncertain if he was supposed to do anything.  He
was feeling uncomfortable in the presence of so many people - this was a
far cry from the subdued quiet of his late mistress's villa - he had never
even been inside an inn before.  Although he was accustomed to perpetual
nudity, for the first time he felt self conscious to be standing there
without a stitch on in a room crowded with two score people, all of them
fully clothed.  However, apart from Lepidus - who shot him a brief sidelong
glance - he might have been invisible as far as everyone else was
concerned.

Magnus beckoned Lepidus closer as the landlord and his wife moved away to
deal with other customers.  "I trust you have been keeping well? Not
getting any maidens into trouble? And keeping in with our estimable
landlord?"  "Why yes, master.  I like it well enough here, even though the
pay is almost non-existent.  But with a warm bed and plenty to eat and
drink, and the occasional tip, I am content enough."  Magnus gave him a
long, appraising look.  Callixtus was aware of a sudden silence between the
mage and the servant boy.  "Coin is hard enough to come by, but luckily I
am well provided for.  I have a mind to give you a tip later, and a very
generous one, if you will make yourself available later this evening for
some....special service of a personal kind."  Still keeping his cool grey
eyes fixed on the youth, he pulled out a pouch from his tunic and slowly
counted out twenty silver crowns.  Then he looked again at Lepidus, and
raised an eyebrow.  "Do we have an understanding?"  The youth flushed, then
gave an embarrassed grin.  "Yes master, we do!"  "Very well" said Magnus,
"I look forward to seeing you in my room when your duties here are
complete.  I will be retiring there shortly; please see to it that my slave
is fed and washed."  "Of course, master."

So it was that Callixtus found himself squatting on a rush-strewn floor in
a back room reserved for slaves and servants, where he was in fact the only
occupant, hungrily devouring a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread.  When he
had finished, Lepidus reappeared and conducted him to the outbuildings
where he showed him the privy and the shower.  The water was held in a
perforated wooden tank: when a plate was removed it trickled out from a
dozen small holes.  A pipe brought it from the inn where it was heated by
the fire, although the system was inefficient and the water was barely
lukewarm.  Lepidus handed Callixtus a bar of soap and watched as he soaped
himself clean, paying particular attention to his muddy feet, which were
somewhat bruised and battered from the unaccustomed outside walking he had
done that day.

Callixtus knew better than to engage Lepidus in conversation.  Lepidus may
have been a servant but he was still free, and slaves did not initiate
conversation with the free.  Lepidus only addressed a few general remarks
to Callixtus, and was careful not to get into a discussion; his demeanour
was friendly but reserved - sometimes he even seemed a touch embarrassed.
Callixtus picked up on the slight embarrassment felt by Lepidus but could
not divine its cause.

"All finished?" said Lepidus.  "Hand me the towel, and I will take you to
your master's room".  Callixtus handed over the towel, and noted that
Lepidus paused for a moment while his glance flickered over the slave's
exposed genitals before turning and bidding him follow.  Lepidus knocked at
the door of an upstairs room and showed Callixtus in, then bowed to the
mage.  "See you later then, master" he said to the mage.  Magnus replied,
"I look forward to that very much."  Lepidus flushed and grinned.  Was it
his imagination, though Callixtus, or was there something wolfish about the
grinning look the mage gave to the servant?

"I have some work to do, Callixtus.  Please light the candles on my desk
with that taper on the mantelpiece, and pour me a goblet of wine. Then you
may sit quietly on that rug by the fire in case I need you for anything.
You will sleep on that rug tonight.  Be sure to put the fireguard up before
you sleep - I would hate you to be injured by a spark from the fire."
Callixtus did as he was bid.  He was a strange one, this mage, he thought
to himself.  But he spoke pleasantly and politely.  No-one had ever said
"please" to him before, or been so solicitous of his welfare.  As the
mage's quill scratched away at the parchment on his desk, Callixtus sat
cross legged on the sheepskin rug, enjoying the warmth from the fire on his
clean naked skin, feeling pleasantly full, and fell into a contented
reverie.  In his previous life he had been kept busy with a myriad of
household tasks for eighteen hours a day.  He was unused to doing nothing.
All in all, he thought, things haven't turned out too badly so far.