A Scripta

Spurius watched the guests mill around his courtyard. He had twenty couches, and just ordered the extra two for the two men he invited yesterday. Although the man of the house was Greek, he had hoped his wife or concubine would be of some Roman stock. Otherwise - and he looked across the room at his guest Atticus - things could get a little testy. He had put Atticus far away from his Greek guest.

He sipped his wine and watched the doorway. Then the door opened, and Kalius of Thebes entered, wearing a deep red tunic with an undyed toga over it. Following him came a tall dark-haired man, wearing a simple off-white tunic with the same sort of toga over it. Both men looked confident.

"Soldiers?" asked his wife's brother, Cenna Cornelius, standing at his elbow.

"How do you know?"

"Their stance, how they move, with purpose."

Spurius knew soldiers would drink themselves silly. First Greeks, now soldiers. He couldn't kick them out now. What could be worse?

The two men came down to the dining area. Kalius bowed to the host. "This is my companion, Dmitrius."

Spurius looked up at the tall man, and Cenna gasped. "Your companion?" Spurius asked, not wanting to hear the clarification.

"I am his lover," said Dmitrius in a deep rumbling voice.

Kalius smiled, and Dmitrius moved closer to Kalius. Spurius realized it could indeed get worse. If Atticus found out, there would be insults, and maybe blood.

Cenna was no help, running off and leaving him with the two men. Spurius forced himself to smile. "It is good to see you. Please, come inside. Would you like some wine?"

"I do not drink," Dmitrius said. Kalius said he would take one. Spurius brought them to the couches that lay against the table. Women had stopped and stared at the men, not hearing that they were lovers. A couple of the women smiled at them, obviously flirting. Dmitrius smiled and said to Kalius in their native tongue, "We have admirers."

A few minutes after getting comfortable on the couches, dinner began to be served. Slaves came in bearing plates: jellyfish and eggs, udders stuffed with milk and eggs, boiled mushrooms with peppered fish-sauce, sea urchins with a thick spicy black sauce. Dmitrius watched it all with a smile, and Kalius looked at his lover, grinning. "Been a long time," Kalius said, and dipped the mushrooms in the sauce. Dmitrius acted like he was eating. A couple of dogs had appeared just under the table.

A woman sat next to Dmitrius, and watched as he brought food to his mouth and it would disappear. Dmitrius flashed his hand down, faster than the human eye could catch. The dog below snapped up the food. She smiled and flirted, and Dmitrius would turn to his lover pointedly. A woman next to Kalius was also flirting with him, but Kalius ignored her. Then a slave came over and whispered something to the woman next to Dmitrius, and the woman blushed. She turned back to the table, watching them clear the left overs away.

The first entertainment began. A young lady came out and performed on a lyre. Dmitrius put his elbows on the table and his head on his hand to watch. He smiled, remembering the times he had serenaded Kalius with his lyre in their tents, or all of them belting out drinking songs with the men at the fire. Kalius would sing to him too, quietly, as they lay together, believing he didn't have a voice for it so he wouldn't do it in front of others. Dmitrius glanced at Kalius, who was also enjoying the music. Maybe tonight, he would sing again for Kalius. He hadn't sung for a man since...he didn't want to think about it.

The young girl finished her playing, and there was polite applause. She wasn't bad, but she missed a few notes. Dmitrius saw the resemblance between her and their host, and assumed she was the daughter this banquet was for. Slaves came around and passed rose water over their hands into a bowl, giving them linen to wipe their fingers. The second course followed.

Kalius looked at the food coming out and realized he had forgotten how sumptuous Roman banquets were. Professional musicians were sitting down off to the side, just a quartet, as the slaves brought dishes: Deer roasted with onion sauce, dates, raisins, oil and honey; boiled ostrich with sweet sauce; turtledoves boiled and feathers re-stuck on them. Kalius fell on the venison slices like a man famished. The dogs beneath Dmitrius enjoyed them too.

And still, more food came. Roast parrot. Dormice stuffed with ground pork and pine kernels. Ham boiled with figs and bay leaves, rubbed with honey, baked in small pastry crusts like pies. Flamingo boiled with dates, its head reattached. Musicians played, and people talked quietly. Dmitrius took a pie as someone yelled, "Catamites!"

The room fell silent, and some people turned to look at Kalius and Dmitrius. Both men froze, knowing that word as a Latin derogatory term for a homosexual. Kalius slowly put down his dormice, and Dmitrius followed suit with his pie. A man in long black hair and a beard was standing up next to his couch, shaking with rage. A woman was holding his arm, and the host drew himself up, saying, "They are my guests."

"They are Greek barbarians!" The man glared at Spurius. "You invite these sheep-fuckers in your home?"

Kalius jumped up. Dmitrius moved a little more determinedly. The man shook off the woman, and started moving around the table in their direction. Kalius started going around, to meet him half way, and Dmitrius put an arm out to try and stop his Erastes. Kalius stopped, even though knowing he could easily walk around Dmitrius. "Ignore him, Erastes."

Some people caught the Greek word, including the man heading their way. "YOU'RE the passive one?" He stared incredulously at Dmitrius. "Aren't you ashamed?"

"No," said Dmitrius calmly. Kalius clenched and unclenched his right hand, itching to summon the sword. "You would not understand."

"I understand that you are Greek pigs."

Kalius stormed right up to the man, and even though he came up to the man's neck, and had to look up at him, he exuded more fury than the dark-haired man. "Take that back, right now."

"Fuck you."

Kalius then gave the man a feral grin, and Dmitrius knew what that grin meant. It meant blood.

Kalius said darkly, "Let's step outside, then, and see who fucks who."

Dmitrius got up, knowing that he couldn't stop his lover now. He could pick up the pieces of flesh when Kalius was done.

"Atticus!" Spurius called, "Please don't do this!"

Said another man, "Atticus, they're seasoned soldiers. They'll kill you."

Atticus said, "The little one can try." He led the way out the front door.

Kalius followed, and as soon as he cleared the threshold, Atticus grabbed him by the toga and threw him out into the stone lane. Kalius rolled, shedding himself of the toga and crouching in his tunic. Dmitrius stood at the threshold, hands behind his back and watching calmly. He forced himself to look like he was breathing, since humans were watching.

Kalius got to his feet just as Atticus came down the three stairs. Kalius' eyes were on fire. Atticus stopped for half a second too long, and Kalius sprung at him, tackling him back, landing on the stairs. Then he got up, holding Atticus by a fistful of toga, yanking him up and lifting him easily off the ground with one hand. He cocked his fist back, and slammed it into Atticus' stomach, forcing all the air out of his lungs, then threw him into the wall ten feet away. He slowly walked toward Atticus.

Atticus tried to catch his breath, but he probably had a punctured lung. Kalius picked him up, and punched him again, this time in the face. Dmitrius closed his eyes; that certainly meant a dislocated, if not broken, jaw. People had rushed out of the house, and a woman screamed, "Stop it! Stop hitting my husband."

Dmitrius said quietly, "He shouldn't have said those things."

The woman whirled on Dmitrius and pounded on his chest. It was like hitting a rock wall. "You disgusting Greek pigs! You're unfit for living in this town! I'll have words with Romulus himself!"

"I am sorry to hear that," Dmitrius said, as the husband flew by them into the other wall. Kalius stopped at the mention of Romulus. He hadn't even broken a sweat, and looked like he had just thrown a ball around for fun. Atticus lay in a heap against the wall.

"Do you think that name causes fear?" Kalius roared, his eyes on fire and heading to the woman. "I spit on the name of Romulus. We serve Imperious, the rightful ruler here."

The people looked slightly uncomfortable. Kalius grabbed Dmitrius' hand, and they started walking down the lane at a brisk military march.