The Pompeiian Horse

7. GIFT

APRIL

"I thought I'd never see you again," the Centurion said softly, his hands still holding Horse's face.

"Years after you saved me, I heard about the purge of the Fifteenth Legion- its decimation and disband. I was devastated for months, but your words were the only thing giving me purpose."

"To avenge your mother."

"No," Horse put his arms around the Centurion's torso, "to live."

Prime Centurion Vettius pulled Horse to his chest, smashing him, squeezing him. "Gods! What trick of Fate is this?"

Horse had recognized his savior the moment Vettius yelled at him before their fight started. Yes, he was ten years older with some silver peppering the black curls on his temples, but he was the same imposing man. If Horse had seen him in uniform, he would have known immediately. But the confirmation had been the way he looked at Horse after his completion. That mix of remorse and confusion would never leave Horse's memory.

"I owe you my life. I think Fate has given me a break." Horse extricated himself from the thick arms wrapping him. "Now I can thank you properly, Centurion." He locked eyes with Vettius and kissed him, ten years of gratitude flooding everything like an unruly river.

"I was a mere infantryman then," the Centurion sighed. "I followed what I thought was an omen against my superiors' orders."

"And was it?" Horse could not understand what kind of omen would have told Vettius to let him live, but he was not going to question it.

"Perhaps it was. We are here, aren't we?"

"Yes. And my gratitude has no limits. You gave me a chance when all seemed doomed." Horse knew that anything he did during the following moments could be perceived as the acts of a whore earning his wages, but it did not matter. After today, he would find a way to show this Prime Centurion more than physical appreciation.

"Thank the gods, not me," Vettius murmured, honeyed eyes sparkling softly in the wavering light.

Horse did not want to break the moment with his thoughts about the gods. "You're the one in front of me right now." He sat on his haunches, still amazed at this turn of events, their eyes locked.

"I have to go." Vettius stood up and moved to start dressing.

"Why?" Horse stayed on the floor. "Did I displease you?"

Vettius turned to Horse with a startled look on his face. "No. You're perfect. It's... me."

"Nah. You're disgusted because that memory disturbs you, and you cannot see anything but that kid in me. I'm sorry." Horse would let the Centurion be if the man did not want to be associated with a mere whore. He could not show gratitude forcing his presence upon the other. He lowered his gaze and stared at the floor, feeling worse than defeated- sad.

"Look at me." Vettius grabbed Horse's chin, their eyes meeting. "I need time to process this discovery. I'm not disgusted. I'm shocked." He shook his head like someone not sure what to say next. "We'll meet again." Their lips touched, more a caress than an actual kiss.

Horse closed his eyes, and the firm hand holding him disappeared. By the time he recovered his breath and opened his eyes, Vettius was gone.

◄☼►

Days passed with Horse going through the motions as if nothing in his life had changed. Still, knowing the man who had saved his life was within the walls of Pompeii remained pure torture; his debt to Vettius and respect for his uniform kept Horse at arm's length. Being intrusive would not endear him to the other.

The Prime Centurion had said they would meet again, but the hours of each day had triplicated in Horse's mind, making his normal routine an obnoxious burden. Between his customers, real gladiators coming to practice with them, and the Smalls advancing in their reading and writing skills, Horse should not have had time to think. However, thinking was all he did.

Amid the interminable hours, Horse started to notice things in his room changed place or vanished altogether. He blamed it on his restlessness. After all, his own hand had left his room key in an absurd place while around Vettius; it would not be that farfetched to be leaving things all over with the man now constantly clouding his thoughts.

"Horse." Scando approached him as he left the practice yard on the seventh day after his encounter with Vettius. "A word."

"Yes?"

"Prime Centurion Vettius has requested to take you out of The Zoo for an afternoon, and I've consented to it." Scando paused as if waiting for Horse to say something. He continued because Horse did not open his mouth. "I expect you to behave appropriately. This could be a great business opportunity if he puts in a good word and more soldiers come to us."

"I'll be a good boy," Horse said, trying his best to sound sarcastic because he felt utterly exhilarated but did not want Scando to see it. It would bring inquiries Scando did not need to be making.

Scando arched an eyebrow. "He'll come to pick you up at the seventh hour. Be. Ready."

"Trust me. I will be."

Scando wordlessly stared at Horse with narrowed eyes for several heartbeats, then turned around and walked away pensively.

Jerk.