Chapter 4

Evander stared at his shaking hands. They were covered in blood and still held the dagger. The gurgling noise from the bed before him finally ceased and he backed farther away. He stood a moment more in the large chamber, the riches of the room was of no import to him. He had just killed a man, which had been his father’s request. Claudius had told him he would be alone in the endeavor but when the task had been completed and things settled down, he would bring him from the stable and raise him to a position his courage deserved.

Evander didn’t seem very courageous now. He had seized the opportunity to please his father, to earn himself a place not at his side, for that would be far too ambitious for a bastard, but somewhere in his vicinity so he might continue to earn his acceptance. He had been so anxious for the opportunity Claudius had offered him he had not worried what his blade would feel like sinking into the emperor’s neck. He never once wondered how it would feel to quickly draw the blade across his resisting skin. He never thought what he would do if the blade did not bring death to the emperor.

All these things he now knew. He knew to bring death he must not hesitate and bare down on the blade heavily so as to break the skin and spill the person’s life blood. He also knew he must not be too close as he sliced through the throat because the blood would drench him in its warmth as it spilled from the body. Valuable life lessons he supposed, but worth the fear that now left him quivering with the urge to wet himself. He had accomplished the task for his father and now must flee or it would all be for not, at least for himself, for to have killed the emperor was to kill one’s self, but only if caught.

He hurried to the window, high up the palace wall, slipping the bloody dagger into the rope around his waist. The darkness still hid him as he climbed out, holding tightly to the ledge as he worked himself across to another window. He dropped silently onto the stone floor and waited listening. The blood filled his nostrils, he could taste it in his mouth but he ignored it for it was now the least of his concerns.

He moved passed the snoring occupant and to the cracked door he slipped through and into the corridor that was lit sparingly by the torches. Moving along the shadows, his heart hammering in his chest he headed for the back of the palace. Down the stone steps to the ground floor he went, out of breath from the fear. As soon as his feet touched the first level a yell came from the floor above. Adrenaline coursed through his young legs and he broke into a full out run toward the door he had left slightly ajar upon his entrance.

Claudius had made his entrance to the palace possible but he had warned if anything happened to keep him from escaping it would be his head alone that would be severed for Claudius would claim no knowledge or kin to him. He slipped through the giant door and quietly closed it completely behind him as the palace came alive.

Guards ran toward him and he ducked into the shadows, waiting anxiously, fear as he never knew before crowding in on him as he watched the guards run passed. Quickly he left the shadows and ran toward the stable. A yell from above ordered him to stop but he had too much to lose to obey.

He charged inside the stable stripping off his tunic as he went. He shoved it deep into the hay that was piled to the side, stowing the dagger there as well. He moved to a water trough and quickly cleaned the blood from his hands and face, the water darkening. This realization struck him just as the doors he had just fled through opened. He dove over the low wall and into the stall he shared with two other boys. Crouching he donned one of the tunics that had been left on the floor, quickly fastening the belt he crawled into the hay, flinging the nearly thread bare blanket he slept under over his shoulders.

Through his eyelids he saw the flicker of the torch that was held high. “We found him,” a rough voice said from the aisle. Pretending grogginess Evander rolled over, his eyes batting protectively against the bright light. He saw the other two boys, one crouched in his loin cloth, and the other was standing as he searched for his tunic. “All of you, out,” the soldier ordered as the stable became filled with the palace’s guard.

All three of them were led out into the courtyard. The two in their loincloths shivered against the early morning chill. They stood waiting silently, each quivering, two of which did not know what was happening. The third did but he vowed he would go to his grave keeping his father’s secret. For that alone he hoped Claudius would mourn him for his bravery.

“Who does this belong to?” one of the soldiers asked as he stepped out of the stable carrying the dagger and tunic.

Two of the boys looked at each other, Evander thought it prudent he keep his eyes straight forward since it was obviously not his. Guilt settled on him at his continued silence as the soldiers advanced on the two that stood in loin clothes.

“I will know who this belongs to and I will know now!” the big man bellowed. Evander tried to move away but one of the soldiers clamped a hand on his shoulder staying his retreat.

“It’s not mine,” Caius responded in a shaky voice. He was only two years older than Evander, putting him at 13. He was the one who had showed Evander the ropes when he arrived, taking the brunt of the stable master’s abuse and treated him like a younger brother under his protection. He had always been patient with him, even when it got him the lash.

“Nor mine,” Milo said, his face pale. The boy couldn’t be much older than nine. He had only come to the stable a short time ago. His skin and bones body had not had time to gain much meat in the short time he had been there and was given food for his service.

Claudius arrived in the courtyard, only lit by the few torches, thankfully Evander stood in the shadows, nearly forgotten save for the one man who kept him there.

“The emperor is dead,” his father announced as he moved toward them.

He spared not a glance at Evander but stopped before the two quivering boys. “These were found in the stable,” the man said holding up the tunic and dagger.

“Which one of you did it?”

“Did what?” Caius asked. His voice sounded more frightened than Evander had ever heard it.

“Killed the emperor,” Claudius said reaching a hand out to seize Milo by the chin. Immediately the boy did as Evander had had the urge to do in the emperor’s chamber and wet himself.

“It was not us, we were asleep,” Caius ventured courageously. As quickly as his father had slapped him his friend was slapped.

“It was…,” Evander’s words were cut off by Claudius’s gaze swinging quickly to him. In two strides his father stood before him.

“It’s all right son,” he said in a gentle voice. Son, his father had called him son. He raised his head, pride at accomplishing his task and making his father proud crowded out all his fear and regret. “You can tell us which one of them was not there.”

Evander was horrified. He couldn’t name one of them, for that would mean their death.

“Come on son,” Claudius said again. Evander could only stare dumbfounded at his father as he looked down upon him. He waved the soldiers back. “Name one of them and you will be freed of this charge without a doubt cast upon you.”

Still Evander stood silently, his body shivered at the implication of what his father now asked of him.

“If you do not, you and both of them will be tortured. There are ways to make a man tell secrets he swore he would never tell. Do you think a boy could hold his secrets any better?” Claudius arched a brow, the question was plain, would he be able to keep his father’s secret.

Evander swallowed the fear that tightened his throat. He began to speak but bile tried to rush up and he swallowed again. Claudius waited patiently for the boy before him to speak. “It was Milo,” he finally managed passed his dry lips. He could not name the friend who had made sacrifices for him, but for his father he would name the other.

“You will be rewarded for your loyalty,” Claudius said as he turned away.

“Which one of you is Milo?” Claudius asked moving back to the two boys. Caius looked down at the younger boy, shook his head and without hesitation stepped forward.

In the blink of an eye Claudius plunged his sword into the boy’s chest. Horrified eyes locked with Evander’s before all life left and his limp body fell to the ground. Evander was rooted to the spot, the older boy’s sacrifice for the younger wrenched something from him he could not name. Something he would never again find but would eventually forget he ever possessed. As if the death of the boy was nothing to them, the men turned and walked away, dragging Caius’s body behind them.

Milo stood in shock, his eyes round, and his body still as the death that had claimed Caius. He no longer shivered from the cold, he didn’t blink, and he barely breathed. What had he done? Was a father worth the life of Caius, the vision that would forever be etched in Milo’s memory? That was a question he could not answer for he had never had a father. It was too late to worry about now. Slowly Evander moved to Milo’s side as the sun began to bring light to a new day. The boy who would have died if Caius had not stepped forward and taken his identity looked up at him with the most vacant eyes he had ever seen. He stared at him for a heart wrenching moment before he saw recognition in his eyes.

“Wh-What do I do?” he asked in a voice so small and scared Evander felt the weight of a thousand deaths settle on his shoulders, a premonition of things to come.

“From this day you are Caius,” Evander said. He seized the boy by his arm, drawing him towards himself to make his point well known. Milo’s eyes shot to his hair as the light touched it. With his free hand Evander reached up and touched it, feeling the blood that was still caked there. “If you value your life forget you ever went by another name.”

“What is happening?” the boy asked, his innocent mind could not relate the death of Caius with something his other friend had done.

“It is over now,” Evander said with confidence he did not feel. “Remember what I said, you are Caius.” He saw the fear in the boy’s eyes as he nodded.

Together they made their way back to the stall they shared and settled into the hay. Caius curled up against him and though he tried to hide it Evander heard the boy cry, eventually he gave in to exhaustion and sleep but Evander felt he would never be at peace enough to sleep again.

Evander drifted in a haze, surprised he had slept, the small body was still pressed against him. He wanted to rise but his arms refused to move. Then he remembered that night he had not slept at all. For that matter he had not slept for four nights, each time he closed his eyes the accusing eyes of Caius brought him awake. His friend had not even taken his rightful name to his grave, all because of him. The pain he carried with him for his first nefarious act had long eased among his numerous others. One was no worse than the other now, all he had done at his father’s bidding, and although he rose in the ranks, far above his station, Emperor Claudius never ceased with the demands he placed on him.

Evander remembered eyes so dark he could not discern their color. He contented himself with falling back asleep with her warmth curled next to him.