Date: Sat, 2 May 2020 05:36:39 +0000 (UTC)
From: ropingtop@aol.com
Subject: Glaucus and marcellus - installment 1

Folks, if you're reading this story, donate to Nifty.  We pay for cable,
we pay for books, we pay for movies.  Keep the site going. Donate more if
you like this story  .  And let me know.   This is my first foray into
"sword and sandal drama."  Love to hear your views.

The guards walked Marcellus toward Glaucus' bed chambers.  The pace was
slow and majestic:   Marcellus had agreed to surrender to Glaucus' bed,
in return for his life.  He also did it, in order to possibly see his
lover, Demos, also a prisoner of the Romans.  The alternatives to this
had not been pleasant, nor did he relish giving up his manhood to his
conqueror.  Still, the bath he had just been given , had been the first
real bath he had had in months.  The attendant slaves had washed his
hair, removed the matting and had cut it to an even length.  They had
even listened to him when he had asked them to cut it short  "so I can
never be grabbed by my hair, and slain, like so many of the Goths."
 They had taken pains to manicure his overgrown nails, and to smooth down
the rough skin about his feet.  "This will take some time, I am afraid,"
said the head attendant,  "and there may very well be some pain.  But we
will have your feet in perfect shape in good order. "  He smiled.  "And
congratulations at being chosen Marcellus.  All of us hope you bring some
joy to Glaucus.  He has not smiled since his lover died in battle.  "
This was news for Marcellus:  he had not heard  this part of his
conqueror's story.

The war was over.  The defeat of Marcellus' legion was the last pocket of
rebellion from the Materan rebels.  Now, as he stood on the top of Ponte
Vulture, bound, gagged, and a prisoner of his conqueror, he cursed
himself within, for falling for such a basic trap.

Glaucus stood next to him, his hand firmly on Marcellus' tight bicep,
after the signal trumpet had sounded.

'MATERANS.  You see next to me, your leader -  your former leader,
Marcellus.  My prisoner.  I CALL UPON YOU TO LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS  AND
SURRENDER.  Or the next thing you will see, is your General thrown from
these rocks, and we will recommence our battle.  And you will be
slaughtered and left in the mountains to DIE."

"How had it happened?  How had he been so STUPID, " Marcellus thought to
himself.  The insurrection was NOT going well.  Batallion after batallion
fell, and his legion was the last one left.  Still, among the rebels, and
among the Romans, his legion was regarded as the most battle hardened,
strongest, and best trained of all of the rebels.  They had taken a stand
in the mountains around Vulture:  they knew the Roman legions here were
not well fortified. If they could get an advantage, and break through the
Roman line, there was hope.  And indeed, the battle had gone well.
Marcellus, and his men, were cutting the Romans to pieces everywhere.
The Materans knew the terrain far better than the Romans did, and they
controlled every pass.  Any Roman who tried to make any progress, found
himself cut down immediately.

Yet,  Marcellus had been fooled.  As he stood, waiting for the next
flight of Romans, he saw the feathered helmets of what appeared to be
unprepared, unready, Romans.  He had drawn his sword, gave the CHARGE
signal to his white horse, and had charged after them.

FOOL.  The path was narrow, and he hadn't been prepared for the trap:
the Romans,  DAMN THAT GLAUCUS - had poured gallons of olive oil over the
track.  His horse, caught up in the oil, slipped, and in slipping, threw
Marcellus.  He landed with his head against a rock, stunned.  By the time
he regained his composure, Glaucus, the Roman general, stood over him,
with a lance in hand.  The lance aimed directly at Marcellus' throat, and
Glaucus was smiling.

"Welcome to your death Marcellus.  " He pointed the spear of the shaft
directly at Marcellus' throat.  "Or perhaps not.  It is your choice.  You
can surrender to me, and perhaps - PERHAPS- your troops will take the
opportunity to surrender.  OR, you can die nobly, and without your
leadership, none of your men will live the day .  It is your choice.  "


"My men will live if I surrender, Glaucus?"  Glaucus smiled, knowing he
had already won.  "Your men will be given the opportunity to surrender,
and live out their lives as slaves.  Or they may fall on their own
swords.  It will be their choice.  YOU, however, Marcellus, will be
returning to Rome as my captive and prisoner."

Marcellus gulped.  "You win, Glaucus.  I surrender to you.  Let my men
live.  I beg you.  Kill me.  But let my men live."  Glaucus laughed.  "As
a prisoner, you will be given the same option Marcellus, albeit of a
different color . ON YOUR FEET.  Assume the position of a captive."

Marcellus stood, and put his hands behind his back.  "WAIT.  First, it is
the tradition.  I will have your armour Marcellus.  You will no longer
have need of it.  REMOVE IT."

Marcellus sighed, and took off his breast plate, his helmet, the rest of
the armour.  He stood before Glaucus, clad only in his basic garments.

"Your hairiness is spoken of widely.  And I see - the stories are true.
It will be a good way for us to make sure your men know, it is not a
trap, for I will NOT let you speak to them in that vulgar dialect of
yours.  "  Glaucus tore the shirt from Marcellus, revealing his muscular,
and hairy body.  He stood behind him, and bound the general's wrists.  He
then took another piece of  filthy leather, and placed it between
Marcellus' lips, gagging him much more tightly than was necessary.  "ON
YOUR HORSE.  I will lead you back to my men."

As they walked, Marcellus thought of his boy, Demos.  It was the
Materans' rule that couples did not fight in the same division. Contrary
to others, they did not believe that fighting as a couple increased
vigor, or strength.  Demos had been in another legion, annihilated months
ago by the Romans.  The story was that there were many prisoners, many
slaves, and Demos' body had never been recovered.  Maybe he lived,  as a
slave in Rome perhaps, but perhaps he lived?

Glaucus led his captive into the camp.  He proclaimed  "VICTORY .
VICTORY.  VICTORY."    His men, on seeing the semi-legendary Marcellus
bound, and helpless, saluted him loudly.  "Let us put an end to this war.
"  He pointed to their trumpeter.  "You are with me, Semiphorus.  To the
top of Vulture.  When the Materans see that their leader is captured, it
will be over. "

"I hear and obey," Semphorus responded.  "Now it is time to walk ,
Marcellus.  The road is too strenuous, even for your wonderful steed."
Glaucus called over his companion on the campaign.  "Drusus.  For your
service:  the horse of Marcellus.  Well trained,  strong, willful.  Like
his Master."  He laughed.  "May you have luck controlling him."

The three of them reached the top of Vulture.  Marcellus did not
struggle, nor did he scream.  He knew that the battle was over.  "SOUND
THE CRY TO THE MATERANS.  THREE TIMES.'  Semphorus did so, and the
trumpet rang over the valley.  One could hear the silence fall over the
valley.

MATERANS.   I AM GLAUCUS, ROMAN GENERAL.  I PRESENT TO YOU YOUR LEADER,
MARCELLUS.  HE IS IN MY HANDS.  AND HE WILL DIE AT THE FOOT OF THE
MOUNTAIN TODAY,  AND YOU WILL BE SLAUGHTERED.  EACH AND EVERY ONE OF
YOU.  UNLESS  YOU SURRENDER.    SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO, YOU MAY FALL ON
YOUR OWN SWORD.  WILL YOU FIGHT, AFTER YOU SEE YOUR GENERAL DIE, OR WILL
YOU SURRENDER? "

There was the sound of arms being thrown down.  Romans came forward, and
began leading the Materans in chains back to the camp.  Again, Glaucus
pressed Marcellus' bicep.  "Your men are smart too, Marcellus.  I believe
you will be glad that they made the decision they did.  I will release
the gag now.  Your dialect means nothing anymore.  You will speak like a
Roman."   Glaucus pulled the gag from  Marcellus' mouth.

"I assume I will be permitted to travel to Rome with my men, 'my lord'
Marcellus almost sneered, using the formula of submission.  Glaucus
laughed.  "You would be incorrect Marcellus.  As with the rest of your
army, you are now a slave of the Roman empire. Unlike the rest of most of
your men, you are a  slave of some consequence.   You will travel with
me.  And perhaps 5 or 6 other captives of notes."

Glaucus decided to proceed back to Rome via forced march.  He sent envoys
on ahead, to announce to the city that the rebels had been subdued, and
Marcellus was in chains.  The news made it to Demos, who was halfway
between sleep and wakefulness, in the dungeon of his Mater, Portius.
Portius had bought him at the slave auctions, at a very high price.
Demos' sandy blond hair had appealed to him , as well as others.  Demos
now wore the arm band of Portius, and his collar.  And three, perhaps
four times a week, he was escorted to Portius bed, where Portius enjoyed
him, in prolonged sessions of painful, violent sex.  Indeed, Demos was
trying to sleep off the latest assault on hs body, which had involved,
among other things, a scraping device on his feet, which left him nearly
crippled, and the not insubstantial penis of Portius.  "Marcellus lives,"
he thought.  "Perhaps we will be together."

The march took approximately 4 days.  There was rarely a time when
Marcellus was unbound, and Glaucus was  almost always at his side.  "I am
told that the Roman imperium is very interested in you Marcellus.  They
feel that sacrificing you to our gods, would be most beneficial."
Marcellus glowered.  "You sound surprised."  Glaucus smiled.  "I am not.
But I will  lobby to give you the chance to choose."

As they entered Rome, the citizens gathered at the gates of the city,
cheering Glaucus' chariot.  Marcellus , bound, rode in the chariot, in a
heavy yoke that forced his head down. He saw none of the people who threw
rotting food, fish, and even rocks at him.  He did not see the pelting,
or the whipping,  that his soldiers experienced, each and every one of
them bound in chains at the wrists, and to each other at the ankles.

Glaucus presented his sword to the Emperor.  "I offer my profound thanks
for having served your Imperium, my Lord.  And I present the fruit of the
victory.   BEHOLD MARCELLUS, GENERAL OF MATERA.  BEHOLD THE WEALTH OF
MATERA, IT'S BRAVE AND STRONG MEN.  BEHOLD THE RICHES, THE SPOILS OF
BASILICATA:  JEWELS, GRAIN, WINE, GOLD, ALL OF THE THINGS WHICH BRING
GLORY TO OUR CITY. "  He bowed to the Emperor


"Rise, Glaucus.  You have done well. "  Glaucus rose, but in keeping with
tradition, kept his head bowed.   "I accept your tribute.  And in return,
in gratitude, I offer you the choice of any of the booty you wish.  Ask,
and it is yours. Please raise your head, Glaucus."

Glaucus was cleary thinking this through.  He stood before the emperor,
and planted his feet firmly.  "MY LORD, MY REQUEST IS UNJUSTIFIED AND
UNCALLED FOR, BUT I MAKE IT NONETHELESS.   I REQUEST ONE THING.  "  He
paused.  'I REQUEST MARCELLUS, GENERAL OF MATERA.  I RENOUNCE ALL OTHER
AWARD THAT I MAY BE DEEMED WORTH OF .  BUT I REQUEST THAT THE MAN BE
GIVEN TO ME IN SLAVERY."

The emperor smiled.  "An interesting choice Glaucus.  Then you are of the
view that Marcellus is responsible for the death of your Horatio."
"MY LORD, MY VIEWS ON THAT BATTLE ARE IRRELEVANT.  REST ASSURED I WILL
OFFER MARCELLUS THE OPPORTUNITY TO LIVE IN SLAVERY TO ME, OR TO DIE AS
SACRIFICE TO ARES."

The emperor smiled again.  "Your wish is granted.  You may take
Marcellus.  On the condition that you give him the opportunity to die .
You will report to me of his decision."

"Indeed I will Sir."

Very well....  The emperor turned to his imperial guard.  "BRING THE
BAGGAGE TO THE IMPERIAL TREASURY.  AS FOR THE PRISONERS, TO THE GALLEYS.
" He laughed.  "It seems that the auction room will open again, and for a
while, all to the glory of Glaucus."  The rules that governed the city
called for Glaucus to receive 10% of the proceeds of anything sold,
including slaves, as a result of his victory.  He would be a rich man,
should he have chosen to take it.


He turned to his own retainers. "Bring Marcellus to my home.  Permit him
to wash.  Give him something clean to wear. "  He smiled.  "And then,
chain him to the pendulum of Ares.  He will have to make a choice."


Glaucus had affairs to tend to , including confirming that Demos still
lived.  He smiled.  His existence might be useful, but he and Marcellus
would never share a bed again.  Indeed, he planned to have Marcellus
share HIS bed.  But that remained to be seen.

He completed his affairs, and when he returned home, inquired after
Marcellus.  "Yes Master.  He struggled, and it took four of your
strongest Nubians to subdue him, but he is in fact at the pendulum, bound
securely.  "   Glaucus smiled, as he walked down the stairs to the sacred
place.  Many a sacrifice had been made here, but his priesthood kept the
space immaculate.  He paid his respect to the various attendant Lares.
And then he walked to the center, where Marcellus lay, bound to the slab
of white marble.  He squirmed, to no avail. '

"Marcellus.  We meet again."
"Perhaps for the last time, Glaucus.  I understand my fate, and I accept
it."
Glaucus smiled, and crouched at Marcellus' side.  "But you do not
Marcellus. You understand one option for your fate."
"I did not know slaves were given options in Rome.  Has the city gone
soft?"
Glaucus laughed.  "No Marcellus. Some may argue that I have gotten soft.
But perhaps I have just gotten... lonely."  Marcellus looked puzzled.  "I
do not understand."
"You are being given two choices Marcellus.  One is, as you accept, to
die, at the pendulum of Ares.  It will descend, slowly, and eventually
slice you into so much raw meat for the lions in the Coliseum.  On the
other hand..." He paused.  "your other choice is to live... as my bed
companion."
Marcellus gritted his teeth.  "I WOULD RATHER BE SLICED TO DEATH BY A
THOUSAND KNIVES THAN SERVE YOU SEXUALLY.  START THE PENDULUM."
Glaucus smiled.   "Very well.  It will take a while for your situation to
become dire.  Perhaps you will change your mind in that time. "
"I WILL NOT . SPEED IT UP."
"NO. It will take its time. " He turned to one of his priests.  BEGIN THE
PENDULUM."  There was the sound of a screech, and then the penduldum
began to descend, making wide arcs as it dropped.

"Perhaps you should go back to the old days Glaucus, and simply slice my
throat. Catch my blood in a bowl. Treat me like a black oxen."
"I AM familiar with that rite Marcellus.  And I have considered it.
However, it would not give me time, to bring you someone, who might very
well change your mind."  The pendulum had dropped about 2/3 of the way
down when Glaucus turned to another priest.  'BRING IN THE BOY."

Glaucus had arranged for a 'loan" of Demos for the hour.  Now, brought
in, shirtless, shaved, gagged, and bound, his frightened eyes saw
Marcellus, and Marcellus saw him.  Demos struggled to get to his lover,
but the men holding him were strong.  He struggled to tell Marcellus NOT
to die, and Marcellus fought to get out of the restraints.

"DEMOS. YOU LIVE.  "  Glaucus smiled.  "He lives as a bed slave to
another Roman, but he lives. " He approached Marcellus.  "You will NEVER
share a bed with Demos again, but he lives. For now.  With the proceeds
of the auction, I can well afford to purchase him, and send him AFTER
you in sacrifice.  " He paused and laughed.  "You Materans believe in
reunion after death.  Shall  you wager that?"  He turned to his men.
'RETURN HIM TO HIS MASTER."

Demos squirmed, screamed, and was carted out.  Glaucus turned to
Marcellus.  In less than ten swoops, the pendulum would take his life.

"You have one more choice Marcellus.  Then I will go and prepare the
altar."

Marcellus gritted his teeth. . "YOU WIN GLAUCUS.  I SURRENDER TO YOU AS
YOUR BED SLAVE. I WISH TO LIVE."  He turned to his  priest.  "End the
ceremony.  Tomorrow, in apology to Ares, we will purchase 5 handsome
slaves and sacrifice them.  "  As the pendulum stopped, he approached
Marcellus.

"I will see you shortly Marcellus.  It is time for your initiation."  He
sniffed.  "It seems that Marcellus has had a bit of an 'accident.'
Marcellus reddened.  "Worry not,  slave.  There has never been a man who
has been subjected to the pendulum, who has not lost control of his
bowels."

Glaucus turned to his priests again.  "He requires cleaning up.  Take
care of it. Then bring him to me, bound.  No garments other than a loin
cloth.  I will take care of the rest.