And then, it dawned on him.
Eridus knew.
“I treated you better than you deserved and you betrayed me!” The man roared, continuing his beastly display of rage. “You have taken what was intended to be mine!”
Davius hung his head.
He was too late.
“Gaia will be sold tomorrow,” Eridus confirmed. “You will remain chained in the stables until I can find someone who will purchase you as well. Why end your life when I can profit from your sale.” And with that, he stormed away, gesturing curtly at his guards. Blows assailed him from all sides, leaving him no other option than to curl himself into a ball. Pain seared through every angle of his body, his head pounding with each strike.
It felt like hours before the onslaught ceased and they hoisted him into the air. He thought immediately of his childhood, and the tormenting powerlessness that is captivity. He was a child once more, helpless in their hands. They tossed him in the stables like a butchered piece of meat, chaining his arm tightly to one of the posts. His joints screamed with pain. The horses whinnied in alarm, kicking their legs in confused agitation.
He could do nothing to comfort them, listening to their cries as he hung against his bounds in misery, his battered chest heaving with sobs.
He wrenched open a single eyelid, the other swollen beyond proper function. Blood throbbed cruelly throughout his battered body, prickling at the spots where his skin was torn. He licked arid lips, revealing a single vicious split that separated what was once a neatly sloping Cupid’s bow. The events of earlier resurfaced, as he shamefully recalled his inability to save his lover. He had to find her. He attempted to move, realizing he was no longer bound to the stables, but resting in a warm bed, swathed in blankets.
He pulled himself up in surprise, grimacing as his body excruciatingly rebelled at the effort. He succumbed to its protests, resting on his elbows so he could examine his surroundings.
“Ah, you are awake.”
Sitting before him was none other than Lucius.
“I found you in the stables, near death,” he explained. “I was already out searching for you. I could not let you leave so upset after our last parting. You are fortunate that I found you when I did. I believe your master’s fury had rendered him ruthlessly apathetic to your wellbeing.”
“How long have I been unconscious?”
Lucius approached the bedside. As much as it bothered him to admit it, Davius was relieved to see him. “I let you rest for several days, changing your bandages and administering oil treatments I learned from abroad,” he replied. “I also took care of your slave master. Ending his life proved most satisfactory for me. While I can empathize with crimes of passion, nearly killing someone who is close to me is unforgivable.”
Davius was quiet, letting his words sink in. He expected to be more shocked and dismayed to learn of Eridus’s death, but he was not. “And Gaia?”
Lucius sighed. “I have yet to find her. I heard rumors that she was sold immediately to a man they call Nirus.”
Enraged, Davius attempted to move once more, but his attempts were futile.
“So, you have heard of him,” Lucius remarked. “Davius, you must let your body heal. You are of no use to anyone in this state. Nirus keeps his residence fortified like a crazed emperor, possessed by suspicion. Penetrating his fortifications will require skill.” He moved away from his side. “While you were unconscious, I did some research on the man. I discovered that his authority lies within his relationship with Caesar. The two were comrades for many years during his conquests until a sudden brain fever rendered Nirus impotent as a soldier and quite insane. I believe this is the reason behind his barbarous behavior.”
Lucius ignited the oil lamp resting on the bedside table. The room was flooded with light, revealing Egyptian hieroglyphs etched into the walls, stretching from the heavily draped ceilings to the polished marble floors. Gold plated sculptures littered every corner, their gems sparkling in the lamplight. “Is this your bedchamber?” Davius asked.
Lucius nodded. “You needed somewhere comfortable to convalesce. My body does not require much rest, it is more of a pleasant luxury to pass the time,” he explained.
He moved across the room, his long robes sweeping the floor. “Apparently this Nirus has never taken a wife,” he said, resuming his delineation. “However, he does have a daughter through one of his slaves, whom he spoils excessively.”
Davius recalled the giggling, brown eyed girl at the Circus.
“His slaves are not so lucky,” Lucius continued. “He occasionally keeps male workers, but prefers a steady flow of women, who all end up dying prematurely, either directly by his hand or by starvation.”
Davius stiffened.
“Women are rarely as weak as men would paint them, Davius,” Lucius soothed, noticing his stricken face. “I have witnessed human women overcome far greater trials than this in my lifetime. They have mastered an inner strength that can defeat any enemy when physical force proves inadequate.”
“I wish I was there,” Davius murmured despairingly. From outside Lucius’s heavily veiled windows, he heard the distant crooning of a crow.
Inspiration suddenly struck him. “Lucius. I need you to call one of my gods, the goddess Danu.”
“I am bound by this realm now, Davius,” he reminded him. “I cannot commune with your gods any differently than you can.”
“Then I will need you to gather me some items.” He threw off his blankets, wincing as he hoisted himself up into a seated position on the bed.
Lucius nodded, intrigued.
“I will need a knife, a bowl, and several eggs. Do you have eggs here?”
Lucius withdrew to the dining room, returning with a clay bowl of rotting eggs and Davius’s marble knife. “I found your dagger in the stables and recognized it immediately. These pigeon eggs are from our feast days ago. I haven’t had the heart to clear the table away quite yet. Will they do?”
Davius nodded emphatically, accepting the items with gratitude. He promptly smashed the eggs into the bowl, ignoring the rancid stench that soon choked the room.
Lucius seated himself across from him, observing his preparations curiously.
Davius inhaled, centering his mind and calming his breath. He focused on the cacophony of cicadas in the distance, the strident music of the night. He started to feel power building inside him. “Mother Danu,” he called out. “Hear me now! Protect she who needs you, your daughter. Be her strength where I cannot.”
He pressed the knife into his arm, spilling his blood into the bowl so that it swirled gruesomely with the spoiled embryo. Lucius’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Accept my sacrifice, Mother Goddess,” Davius cried, his heart racing with exhilaration. “Protect your daughter!”
The curtains suddenly whipped up in fury, a tempestuous wind tumbling in from outside. It howled throughout the chambers, as Davius struggled to keep his concentration. Power now hummed throughout his body, the room responding in a tornado of chaos. Statues toppled over, curtains were ripped from their fastenings and sent flailing. The oil lamp crashed to the ground which Lucius hurriedly snuffed out with his foot. His black curls thrashed around his face like snakes. “Davius!” he called. “Your invocation is not working as you intended—it is you who becomes strong!”
