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Consider Yourself an Investment (Cynane)


Chris

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April 74

Weeks had passed since the fateful night where the fates intervened to change the course of Eppitacos' life. Albinus had made good on his word that Eppitacus would remain safe and fully recover, and for his part Albinus took a vacation with his wife to Naples to get away from the commotion of what had happened. As soon as he had recovered, Eppitacus was taken from the ludus and shackled in the lower levels of the slave housing within the palace. He was held there for a matter of days - presumably as Caesar contemplated what to do with him - and then was brought out, washed, shaved and trimmed, perfumed, and dressed only with a tight-fitting wrap around his waist. He was to be sold.

An elderly slave woman came to tell him as much. Without saying a word or questioning a command, Eppitacos was guided through a labyrinth of tunnels, hallways and stairways until at last he was standing in the palace proper. "Wait," he was commanded. He stopped and waited. The elderly slave nodded to a guard who stood by the doorway. Eppitacos could hear commotion beyond the walls fall silent. Then Caesar's voice.

"Friends, I hope you have enjoyed the dinner. And now, we are to the main event of the night and the reason you are all here. I have in my possession a number of slaves with various skills above and beyond what a normal man or woman might possess. There are times, however, when I must take note of my investment and consider it returned. Most recently this has occurred with a gladiator you all know." Quintus turned to the doorway and the old woman waved her hands at Eppitacos to enter.

As he walked into the room, Eppitacos make initial eye-contact with Caesar and followed his lead as to where he should stand. Expecting a platform, he was surprised when Caesar walked up to him and wrapped an arm around the back of his shoulders before he continued his speech.

"Eppitacus ...well, ninety-five percent of him." Laughter filled the pause and then Caesar continued. "This man is known by all of you as a great warrior, and that he is. Or was. I'm not sure now. But he is more than a fighter. A Briton, yes. But a Barbarian he is not. He is smart and cunning. He defeated several of Rome's greatest generals with an army the tenth of the size, and with a tenth of the professional training. He has been in Rome now for these last years, and is nearly a Roman. He speaks Latin, speaks the Briton languages, and still has his wits about him.

"His life is one that I spared, and I will not have it taken in the arena. But, with feelings as they are toward Britannia among the people at the moment, I cannot give the man his freedom," Caesar added, explaining political reasoning behind selling him. "You few were chosen guests because you are the prime among Rome's elite, and by taking this man into your household, you are a patriot beyond others. Now, bid away." Caesar let go of Eppitacus and the old lady slid up behind him.

"This way," she said, and moved him to the far side of the room. "Wait." She said again. So he waited and watched as the Romans talked and debated and slowly but surely they came over to inspect him, interview him, ask about his arm, ask to be shown his stump, touch his stump, and more. He did not object outwardly, but a small, burning part of Eppitacos could not stand the light in which he was being examined. Who were these Romans to look at him in such a way?

@Atrice

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Cynane was a personal bodyguard to Claudia Caesaris, but that didn’t mean it was all that she did. Sometimes there were banquets and other social events and Cynane, with her skills, was told to stand guard and be present. She was quite a showpiece too, after all, with her height and dressed up as a guard and warrior to look impressive, just standing around… appearing fierce even when she didn’t feel like it. Tonight was no different. Because she was apparently to be present at an auction, held by none other than Caesar himself, and she was dressed up a little bit more than usual.

 She wore a blue tunica with yellow edges tonight, along with breeches that would stop just below the knee. She wore her sandals, that had been smeared in fresh beeswax this morning, to appear more soft and shiny. The same went for her dark brown leather armor and they had added braces around her wrists. Her hair was made up on top of her head, with both braids and lose ringlets of hair and it would hang down along her backside.

 Blue eyes scanned the room with all the fancy senators and other wealthy Romans. She stood guard by a pillar, not in the back of the room – she was mostly here to be seen. More than one man came up to her, obviously interested, but she was not here for the sake of pleasure.

 There was a bit of disorder, as a slave was entering the room for the auction. Caesar stepped up to the man and kept on talking and he mentioned a name then. Cynane gave the slave a more interested gaze this time. Eppitacus?  Eppi-fucking-tacus?! None other than him? She had heard he was in Rome, but she had never encountered him and here he stood, wearing nothing else but a loincloth and missing a part of his good arm. He had not stopped fighting, she could tell, there were marks on his body from fights. He had been a gladiator too, after all. He was still as good looking as ever though, even with the missing arm. And here he stood, more dressed down than Cynane, more humiliated as Caesar wanted to sell his British slave for a high price.

 Cynane inhaled a breath, trying to figure out how she felt about this. She had not seen Eppitacus since the fight in Britannia, where her party was the single party to not do well in the fight and she was captured. No one came to help. She heard the British came out victorious after that battle, but that couldn’t be said for everyone. Cynane was here because her own people turned their back son her party, letting them die or become slaves. She lifted her chin a bit, staring at him. He probably didn’t like being a slave either, but she had been here longer than he and look at them now… still slaves, still to be toyed with by the Romans as the Romans pleased. Did he even know she was here? She wondered if he’d even recognize her after all these years.

@Chris

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After the guests had had their chance to inspect Eppitacus, their attention was again drawn to the room's entrance as more slaves were led in. These were men, women, and children of varying skills and importance; some were simple house servants, cooks, tutors, some suited toward physical labor, and some suited for pleasure. Eppitacos kept his head turned toward them, listening as the head slave spoke up about each slave in turn, naming their attributes, how they had come into the possession of the Caesar, and why they were unneeded. Eppitacos didn't realize that Caesar was gifted slaves by so many of his clients, though as he thought about it, he guessed it made sense. Those who wanted to gain favor would gift Caesar - or his family - slaves of talent. It was a lucrative business for him to turn around and sell the gifts, to be sure. Eppitacos wondered if the senators in attendance knew.

Still standing in the same spot, he pulled his eyes away from the slaves on auction and scanned across the room to take in the sight of the various nobles. He didn't recognize any of them. And then, he saw a face that looked familiar. He blinked to open his eyes wider and saw a woman who was unmistakably Briton, despite the Roman attempts to overdo the 'barbarianism' in her dress. "Do I know her?" He found himself pondering; he wasn't sure if her face was one familiar to him, or if the simple fact that they were two Britons in the midst of Romans made him feel some sort of kindred connection. He kept his gaze on her, waiting for her to catch him looking.

Just then, a servant of the imperial household rushed to the front of the seated guests. "Senators and Ladies, that is all for today's goods. We'll remove the slaves from the room and begin the bidding." The various guards in the room began to escort the slaves into an adjacent waiting room. Eppitacos was first, followed by eight others. The waiting room was silent when they entered, until the guards entered and began chatting amongst themselves, speculating and taking bets as to the prices each of the slaves would fetch. Eppitacos kept his eyes on the entrance to the waiting room, curious to see if the Briton woman would accompany the other guards, or remain in the triclinium...

@Atrice

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She had been looking at him for too long. One of the other guards – the actual praetorians, the freeborn Romans – gave her a look, but she gave him one right back and somehow her gaze returned to the infamous Brit standing there in nothing but a loincloth. Then though, he was suddenly looking at her and Cynane was quick to look away. She had another name back then, she recalled. No one had used that name in more than ten years. Cinnia. Cynane was very like that, yet at the same time, it held meaning to the Romans because of the story attached to the name. Eppitacos probably didn’t know her as Cynane. If he even remembered her.

 Was he still watching? But before she could check, a servant stepped up to inform the participants of the party that the slaves would be led away. Suddenly she was one of few guards left in the main room and another guard came to stand next to her, “You’re a slave too, aren’t you? You should go where the others went.” He said and she rolled her eyes, they could be so rude, all because she was a woman and a slave yet held weapons like they! The men just couldn’t stand it, could they?

 “If you say so.” She snapped back at him and left before he could answer. There were still slaves present though, but they were here as servants and Cynane was no servant. She entered the waiting room and saw how the other guards were chatting among themselves. They gave Cynane a glance when she entered, then proceeded to ignore her. She inhaled a breath, wondering why she was even here. Then she glanced around the room and now she couldn’t avoid it – he was looking straight at her. He had recognized her, hadn’t he? And now he was yet another man, wanting her to carry out his will and come and talk to him. It was unlikely he’d apologize to her though.

 She decided to approach him anyway; hear what he’d have to say for himself now. They came out victorious back then, but now he was here, just like her. Didn’t do so well in the long run, did he? Despite everything… Cynane stopped in front of him, but she did not cast her eyes down… “Greetings.” She said, but in their own tongue, not the Roman’s. She should be civilized, shouldn’t she? Show that at least she still had her pride… “It has been a while.”

@Chris

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She came in, and after exchanging glances with the other guards, where else was there to go but to him? He kept his eyes on her, never one to be embarrassed or uncomfortable with maintaining eye contact. He knew her face, that was even more clear as she stood right in front of him. She spoke in their tongue, with Brigantean accent to her words.

"Greetings," he said in turn and then paused, perhaps uncomfortably long, and looked over her face to see if her name would come to him. Her eyes were her most striking feature; fierce, blue, and sharp. Then he remembered where he had seen her. "It has indeed, Cinnia. Your father is Owen, of the Brigantes. Your brother Herne... " He paused again, considering the difference in her freedom and his. He scanned his eyes up and down her body, taking in that she was armed and armored. "You are free?"

@Atrice

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None of them seemed willing to look away from the other, not even when she came closer to him. She tried her best to be civilized and not show her emotions, as she had learned after years of being a slave, and Eppitacos greeted her right back and paused. Wasn’t he going to talk? He was still good looking, of course, although a lot more scarred than before and he was also missing an arm… how did that happen? But he didn’t have the same status as before. She recalled how they had all looked at him back then, all the young women who were ready to marry. Back then, he was both handsome and had quite the rank and reputation. Now he was just a fallen gladiator.

 After the pause, where she thought he wouldn’t say more, he called her by her true name and seemed to recall her family now. So he knew who she was then, he knew perfectly well. And then he looked her over, although she wasn’t sure why. Then asked if she was free.

 “I am not.” She replied, couldn’t help but feeling a bit bitter at him for asking that, “Just as you aren’t, anymore.” And they both knew whose fault it was, didn’t they? Most likely his. She inhaled another breath, trying to calm herself. Seeing him again after so many years was strange and a lot of old and hidden emotions wanted to surface. Yet she shouldn’t let them, not here, not now… so she changed the subject, “What happened to your arm?”

@Chris

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Freedom was a word that Eppitacos had contemplated often after his betrayal, capture, and the subsequent trip to Rome. He had come to the conclusion then that he had never truly been 'free'. From youth he had carried the stigma of being born the unwanted bastard of a failed warlord and a Roman slave. After he broke free from the life chosen for him - to be a druid - and instead followed in his father's footsteps to 'save Britannia', he really only shackled himself again. It was merely the manner of servitude that had changed... or such had been his thinking when the depression of defeat weighed so heavily upon him. He wasn't sure anymore.

He smirked when she asked about his arm. "I was attacked," he said. "Outside of the arena. Lost my arm, but kept my life." He noticed the quick and pointed breaths she took, and wondered if she was bothered by nerves or something else. Eppitacos wasn't sure what had happened to Cinnia's family. He remembered her father and brother because of their relationship to the royal family. He remembered their eagerness to fight, but he had heard little of who had lived and died after his capture. He wondered, then, if she had come to him to blame him for the loss of their freedom. As he had experienced more times than he could count, most Britons in captivity blamed him for the Roman victory. They could not unleash their anger on their masters, but they could on another slave.

"Why have you come to speak with me?" He decided to be forward with her.

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Cynane most definitely had a different view on freedom – she disliked the idea that someone owned her and her body and they could do whatever they pleased with her. She had no choice in what she did for a living and almost every day was the same. And they could relocate her or tell her what to do or how to do it, as they pleased, because her body and her will was not her own. If she did not follow orders, she’d be off worse than before. And she did value her life and breathing, so she did as told… even if she hated it. And whose fault was it she stood here? The reason stood right next to her. 

He answered what happened to his arm – an attack outside of the arena. That sounded strange and she felt a little bad for him – losing his good arm was of course very bad. Losing any arm was bad, but the good arm was the worst. She hoped that would never happen to her. She didn’t reply, wasn’t sure what to say. He kept his life, but did it please her? She hadn’t seen him in such a long time and he was no friend of hers, at least not now. He was merely an acquaintance from the past. And now he would know why she spoke with him.

 “Why not? I have not seen a familiar face from Britannia in a decade.” Cynane replied, “Even if it is yours, it is better than nothing.” She added and did not feel sorry about saying that. He ought to know what she felt. Maybe he even did know, maybe he had guessed… “Would you prefer if I didn’t speak to you?”

@Chris

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Eppitacos smirked at her response. "There is some of the warrior still shining through," he commented and then said, "No, I did not mean that. It's refreshing to hear our words again. Good to see pride and spirit live on." He stole a forlorn glance at his maimed arm and then flicked his eyes back to her. "I only asked because even with a decade passed, the only Britons who speak to me are those who ask when I will lead an uprising in Rome against our oppressors... or far more often those still bitter from defeat." And if he was being honest, the bitterness went both ways, and had made it easier for him to kill his fellow Britons in the arena when the mob called for it.

"When I see a kinsman, or kinswoman, staring at me across a room, I half expect they would try to kill me if they could." He paused and again looked her over, and then refocused his gaze squarely into her fierce blue eyes. "Would you?"

@Atrice

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She couldn’t help but smile when he said she was still a warrior – well she was, she’d been fighting in Rome and now she was the only female guard among men… but hearing it from a kinsman, that was different, of course. He then said he didn’t think she should not speak to him and explained why. Eppitacos continued stating the Britons who spoke to him here, hoped he’d lead an uprising or they were bitter from defeat. Cynane supposed she could be counted in the latter category – she was not stupid enough to think that an uprising among Britons here would lead anywhere. She knew the story about Spartacus and knew how it ended too.

 Eppitacos then suddenly chose to be very forwards and looked up at her, wondering if she would try and kill him. And since they were telling truths, what was the point in beating around in a bush? She might as well just be honest too, “I might.” She confessed, “But there wouldn’t be much of a point now, would there? I wouldn’t gain anything but satisfaction from the deed, since you’re a slave, just as I am. I might be even worse off after, as I would have killed another man’s property. Although I imagine the crime might be worse if I killed a cow, rather than a slave.” She said bitterly, glancing towards the door that led to where the party and auction was. It was difficult to hide how displeased she was with the Romans and the way they kept slaves – and why should she hide it, with Eppitacos. Then she looked at him again, “It sounds like you meet a lot of people who’d rather see you dead. Is that how you got… mutilated?”

Even though she just confessed she might rather see him dead, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him because of the arm. And he was the first familiar face from Britannia she'd seen here. That counted for something too.

@Chris

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He chuckled at her initial response. She might try he thought to himself as she continued on about how killing him wouldn't do her any good. He wasn't sure even what satisfaction she'd get from his death. Another chuckle escaped him when she compared his worth to that of a cow. "Oh, you must have missed the bovine auction," he quipped. "It started before we were brought in."

She looked away and back to him and asked about how he'd lost his arm. "I was in little Britannica," he said, "so I suppose it had something to do with it. The men seemed prepared almost. Paid possibly. I was t-" he caught his tongue, not sure if he wanted to forward what Albinus had told him. "Do you remember your queen? A relation, I suppose. Princess Ysolda?"

@Atrice

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Cynane didn’t see why she should lie to this man here. If they hadn’t both been slaves, she could have done something to him. But they were both slaves and it was for that very reason she felt displeased with him and for the same reason she couldn’t do a thing about it. Eppitacos just chuckled, but Cynane didn’t see what was amusing. Slaves were just considered cattle with a tongue, by most people. Useful animals that could talk, that’s all they were. She ignored his comment about the auction and then she’d asked how he lost his arm – if it was because people wanted him dead or worse.

Eppitacos suspected it might have something to do with it and said the men had been prepared. So they knew he was coming… but who would have ratted him out then? She arched a brow in thought, but Eppitacos had already moved on, wondering about queen Ysulda.

“She was my cousin.” Cynane replied to him, “I didn’t know her so well.” She added. She knew her cousin had been made a Roman citizen – she knew from other Briton slaves what had happened, but she hadn’t seen her cousin since before that battle where Cynane was captured… “Why?”

@Chris

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"She's in Rome," Eppitacos said, quickly answering her 'why'. He wasn't sure how much Cynane knew of the events after he was sold to the Romans, so he decided to elaborate. "From what I've been told, after I was sold out, Ysolda became a protectorate of Rome. Then she was overthrown and fled to Caesar who used the turmoil as just cause for his continued conquest of our people. Ysolda was relocated to Rome for her safety, and married the man who was my lanista, Albinus."

He paused, letting Cynane take in all of that information, and then continued. "Albinus seems to believe the attack was the work of his wife. She became popular with Britons after her arrival." He remembered almost constant visits from would be clients and destitute Britons.

"There's no true way to know, but if this was her handiwork, then she's bested me again," Eppitacos said with a quick exhale of a chuckle.

@Atrice

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Cynane looked at him when he said her cousin was in Rome. Cynane was captured in battle just months before Caesar arrived in Britannia and everything began to rapidly change. She never experienced her cousin as a queen, but she knew about it. That she was in Rome actually came as a surprise to Cynane and Eppitacos explained what became of her. And although Cynane did feel a little bad for Eppitacos, being a slave and having lost his arm now and now she knew why… she also couldn’t help but think that her cousin had become a powerful woman now. And Cynane kind of enjoyed when women were powerful…

 “I suppose she enjoyed being your superior here in Rome. I wish I’d known earlier she was here.” Then maybe her own situation could have changed. On the other hand, had her cousin freed any other Britons? She probably did her best to keep herself afloat here in this corrupt city. She had little time thinking about anyone else.

 “But if it was her doing… why would she have such a thing done to you?” She then wondered, because honestly… why? “Were you threatening her position, somehow?” If Ysulda had been hre so long and done little to Eppitacos in all that time, it was strange she’d do it now. Perhaps he still had it in him; being a warlord. He didn’t appear much as one now though.

@Chris

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Eppitacos had never truly known Ysulda well. She was little more than a child when he had been betrothed to her, but he had recognized her appetite for power and her ambition even then. "I truly do not know the exact reason," he answered. "She has held a grudge against me for a long time." While Eppitacos was no warlord, and had wanted no part in leading any people in a fight for freedom as a gladiator, he had been a man of importance and power within the ludus. It was possible that his position of favor had vexed Ysulda - but he believed her desire to bring him down stemmed from a much simpler reasoning: jealousy.

"When we were betrothed, she had only just become a woman. I was told she was smitten with me in the way children have their crushes... but I had other priorities and paid her little mind." And he had become close to Eupheme. "The rumors she spread of me were that I placed a higher priority in my 'Roman whore' than my own people. My priority was learning the ways of my people's enemy so that I could beat them..." He trailed off. Ironic that he had now, in many ways, become Roman.

@Atrice

 

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Cynane listened quietly to Eppitacos explaining about the reason Ysulda had for hurting him so suddenly. She could imagine her cousin might have held a grudge for a long time – she was the kind who would do that. Cynane wasn’t much different, really. She still held a bit of a grudge too, towards the same man even, and the Romans too of course. The past was certainly not forgotten. Eppitacos continued though, about the time he was betrothed to her and how she’d spread rumors about him.

She smiled a little when he said he’d hoped to learn the ways of the enemy back then, through his Roman mistress… “Pity that you ended up here then, instead of beating them. Pity for all of us.” She added. It didn’t make much sense beating around this topic though, she thought to herself.

“I wonder where you’ll end up now, then.” She said thoughtfully, glancing towards the entrance to the hall where all of the wealthy Romans and even Caesar were having their party and auction.

@Chris

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Was it a pity? Eppitacos wasn't so sure anymore. In the end Britannia became Roman regardless. He had foreseen that outcome before he was betrayed and captured, and had sought to find another way around it... but what use was there in dwelling in the past? Whatever their role, the gods had seen to it that Rome triumphed, and the Britons either died as they were or became a lesser version of their conquerors - whether free or not.

And then Cynane asked the real question of importance: Where would he end up? Eppitacos followed her gaze to the main hall, where the banquet and auction was still playing out. "We shall see," he said softly. He doubted he would have any value as a warrior because of his injury, and he also doubted that any of the nobles saw him as anything more than a fighter. Caesar had done his best to paint a different picture of him, but from what Eppitacos had learned, Romans were quite entrenched in their stereotypes of barbarians. Which got him thinking...

"And you- where did you end up? Who is your master?"

@Atrice

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Cynane certainly thought it was a pity that Britannia was no longer free from the Romans. They lived a good life before, of course there were feuds and so on, but then the Romans came and that’s when war really came to Britannia. So many people dead, so many enslaved, so many forced to start a new life they didn’t choose. If Eppitacos had done better… if all their leaders had done better, maybe they could have kept Britannia free. But they didn’t. And here they were.

She changed the subject though, musing about where Eppitacos would end now. He looked the same way as she for a moment, speaking softly, shortly reminding her of the younger man she knew in Britannia. Of course he now wondered who was her master, here.

“I have a mistress.” Cynane said, “And I live here, now. My mistress is Claudia Caesaris – I function as her personal bodyguard, mostly. At least it’s better than being in the arena.” A lot better, in fact. She had more freedom now, than she did before, and Claudia wasn’t the worst mistress you could have. Far from it, in fact.

@Chris

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"Claudia Caesaris," he said, repeating the name. He had heard it before, and knew simply based on the name that she was either the daughter of Caesar or a close relation. "Sounds like you've done well for yourself... considering the circumstances." Eppitacos wondered whether he would be chosen as a guard, as a showpiece, or as something else more demeaning. His thoughts spiraled into a stream of conscious that soon came out as words.

"In my youth I was raised to be one of the priestly order. I was given up as an orphan, but taken in by the drui in order to serve the gods. I decided that I could serve the people by fighting for them." He paused, and let his eyes settle on Cynane's for a few long, quiet moments. "Do you hear the gods? I thought I used to see them. It was like time stopped and for a moment I was in their world." He realized he was staring at her, though he wasn't really seeing anything at all.

"But, the more I fought, the less I heard them... and now they're silent. Most of my life has been fighting, but now that the gods have taken my arm, I wonder if they will give me their voices again?"

He smiled somewhat sadly, and then found his attention drawn to a quick rise of noise in the adjacent room. A buyer had come forth.

@Atrice

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Eppitacos thought she’d done well for herself, for he seemed to know who Claudia Caesaris was or at least he had an idea of who she was. She was still young, but that also meant she was not too corrupted yet. Cynane wouldn’t let her be, if she could help it. Yet she was only a slave and not meant to raise Claudia. Only defend her… and train her, in secret. She nodded at his words, “Considering the circumstances, I’ve done very well. Although none of it has been my choice.” She added, since she didn’t chose to become a bodyguard – she was chosen for it.

He seemed thoughtful then and began talking about his youth and how he’d been raised by druids to serve the gods in the first round – but then decided to serve the people instead. He wondered if she heard gods, because he used to do that. He looked at her while he spoke and she almost felt sorry for him. If only he’d stayed with the druids, maybe they wouldn’t be here right now. Or at least he wouldn’t.

“It’s impossible to know what the gods want.” Cynane said, when he had finished talking, “I have never heard or seen any gods. Not at home and not here in Rome. But who knows what their plans are?” Sometimes she thought that if the gods were real, the humans were just pieces in a game for them. Pieces who had no choice but to move when the gods decided they should.

She looked up too when Eppitacos did, “I wonder if this is it then… it has been… interesting to meet you again, Eppitacos. I never thought I would.” Despite her anger at first, she couldn't help but also enjoy this. Meeting someone from her past. This was the first time it had happened for her in Rome. And maybe the last, since he might be leaving again.

@Chris

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Without a chance to say anything more on the thoughts that had captured his mind as they continued their discourse, Eppitacos simply resumed his characteristic half grin. "Interesting, indeed," he said, echoing her feelings on meeting again. "Perhaps the gods will see to it that we cross paths again. Hopefully in better circumstances," he added.

The guards came to attention as they were called for, and they quickly grabbed Eppitacos as instructed. He gave a quick nod to Cynane and then let himself be taken away to meet whoever his new owner was.

finis

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