New Rome

36. Fight to the Death

Ellie carefully set the breakfast table, spacing out the little dishes – all freshly made and perfectly seasoned. The steam when cooking had turned his cheeks pink and, as he untied the apron from his narrow waist, he glanced across at the time display. The bedroom door banged open, probably worsening the dent already in the wall there, and Wylo emerged – with work clothes flung on, hair in disarray and dark circles under her eyes. Wylo was most definitely not a morning person.

"Day brightens with your waking," Ellie greeted – smiling sweetly like an angel.

"Morning," Wylo replied, heading like a zombie for the breakfast table. She sat down and stared for a moment at Ellie's hard work. They ate in silence, the sound of their chewing and the air conditioning unit filling the space between them. Ellie didn't seem to mind. He idly checked for news updates on his self between mouthfuls.

"This tastes really great," Wylo complimented – feeling more human now that she'd eaten and drank. Ellie smiled happily.

"Your praise is the amplest reward."

Wylo watched Ellie as he ate, caught up in admiring him. Even first thing in the morning, he was lovely. She rested her chin on her hand. He ate his food in delicate little bites, with no mess or crumbs – taking his time, his back erect and his movements elegant. Like the little prince he'd been raised as.

            Ellie cleaned the dishes whilst Wylo rushed about the place, gathering together her work things.

"Send me word when time of your return seems likely. I will wait up and dine with you." He called to her as he scrubbed the bowels clean. He thought that she was heading out the door and was taken by surprise when her hands suddenly wrapped around him and she hugged him from behind.

Wylo held him close, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Send me word how your day is, I'll miss you too much otherwise." She admitted, blushing. She kissed his neck and Ellie dropped the sponge he'd been holding, covering her hands with his instead.

"Must you rush away?" He asked – only half daring to hope. Wylo grinned.

"I suppose I could be a little late..."

Ellie's eyes widened. Work-aholic Wylo was offering to be late!? He turned abruptly and wrapped his arms around her. They kissed, not lightly as they would in parting, but heatedly – the air charging between them.

Wylo jumped up, wrapping her legs around him and Ellie carried her to the table and rested her down on the hard surface. He broke their kiss, allowing her to catch her breath, as he trailed delicious kisses down her throat. Wylo's breathing was becoming ragged. With hasty fingers, she set about undressing him – wanting to caress his smooth skin, to mark every inch of him as being hers.

**

In Amen, Sawyr prowled down the Muzar dockyard - like a sleek panther moving among the antelope. This was his hunting ground. The Muzar was the city of Amen's ugly jewel. Every day, a king's ransom was fed through here – attempting to state the gluttonous appetite of the Amenian populace. Sawyr was dressed in his priestly robes but with some practical adjustments. The material was cut shorter, with slits for ease of movement that revealed the leather leggings he wore beneath.

As he strode passed, the dock workers moved respectfully out of his way. They all knew who he was.

"But this money... too small." A female voice protested in broken Amenian, hampered by a thick New Roman accent. Sawyr glanced to his left and was depressed to recognise Caesar, the slave girl his people had smuggled into the empire (against her will).

The dock master waved his hand dismissively at Caesar.

"The others get more. They have the right to work here, zut zizi." Zut Zizi was a very derogatory term. Sawyr considered what to do. This wasn't his business. It wasn't his fault that she'd been abducted. But... He hesitated, his steps slowing as he wavered. With her slave branding and no release papers she was vulnerable.

"Not... enough," Caesar argued. The master lost his patience and kicked out, catching Caesar on the shin. She was wise enough to limp away, clutching her measly wages. Sawyr wasn't the only one to watch her leave. Others on the dock did also – men with large fists and hungry mouths to feed at home. Sighing, Sawyr walked on – resolutely not looking back. The girl wasn't his concern. He had his own problems to face.

        Caesar limped down a narrow alleyway. The money wasn't enough to pay for a place to sleep that night, but some hot food would be better than nothing. Her stomach grumbled painfully. Footsteps from behind made her glance back over her shoulder. Three dock workers were striding down the cobbles. Caesar moved out of their way – her back against the alley wall. Unfortunately, it was her that they were after.

Caesar paled as she found herself surrounded.

"Hand over your money!" One of the three barked. Caesar shook her head, tears filling her terrified eyes. One of the men hit her. Caesar's head cracked against the wall. They grabbed her and tried to prise open her fingers to get at the measly coins. Caesar hunched over. She sank to the ground and curled protectively over her wages. She'd die if she didn't eat that night.

The men kicked her and Caesar whimpered. A steel-capped boot caught her in the ribs and the breath seemed be wrenched away from her lungs. She groaned and her eyelids fluttered closed – her body going limp.

**

That evening, Elle sat poised in his 'throne' and laughed behind his hand – enthralled by the bloodshed before him. Tann was on his right, their legs touching as the two friends leaned close to share their fiendish thoughts. In front of them, a fight to the death was being played out. Tann roared with laughter as one of the fighters, an old man, was caught in the face with a knuckle duster. Teeth flew out across the room and a couple bounced off Ellie's boots.

The old man swayed and staggered – dazed.

"Please, my prince," he pleaded to Ellie, his speech lisped. "I beg you!"

"Your neighbours were planning to kill me. You should have reported on them." Ellie gestured around at the bodies of his would-be-assassins. It had been a family of five brothers. They hung from meat hooks, blood dripping from their bare feet.

He'd killed them all – including the rest of the family. The mother was hung up behind Ellie's chair. She'd been stripped naked, her wrinkled flesh shamed and exposed to the gang's ridicule. Tann had stuck an apple in her mouth as if she was a piece of decoration. The elderly neighbour collapsed to his knees.

"I didn't know!" He bowed, his forehead touching the filthy ground at Ellie's feet. Ellie raised up his hand.

"It was your civic duty to know." He showed a thumbs down, the signal for the winner to go in for the kill. 

The old man screamed like a pig in his final moments. Blood sprayed out, splatters landing on Tann's calloused fingers. Slowly, reverentially, Tann raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.

**

Rain drizzled down from the sky, wetting Caesar's face as she slowly came to. She blinked, disorientated by her surroundings. It was dark now. The only light coming from the main road at the mouth of the alleyway. She attempted to raise her head but groaned in agony, her body protesting. Weakly, she rested her head once more against the wet cobbles. Blood trailed down her hand – the fingers bruised and swollen – her scant coins gone. 

A tear slid down Caesar's face, mingling with the rain.