Zelamir

Helot

Chapters 37-

Chapter 37

The same though had clearly occurred to Philotas.

"The terms are strictly cash," he announced.

The man did not reply but pushed his way to the front of the crowd and pulling a purse from the recesses of his tunic began to count out the money on the stage floor. Ayas saw that the last couple of drachma were made up of single obols and that there seemed to be very little left in the man's purse when he had finished.

"Any other bids?" Philotas asked, "going for eight drachma a quality slave boy for the first time 3; for the second time 3; gone."

He was not above bouncing a few fake bids off the city wall if he thought he could get away with it but he like Ayas had noticed the paucity of the man's purse and he feared if he tried it he would be left with an unsold lot.

"Pay the money to my man," he said gesturing at Nearchus, "and he'll give you the boy."

He pushed Ayas towards where the Negro stood at the top of the ladder leading up to the stage and turned to grab the next child to be auctioned, as it happened a twelve year old girl.

Having paid Nearchus the man was waiting at the bottom of the ladder. Ayas hesitated at the top. He could hardly bare to rest his wounded foot on the ground let alone to put his weight on it. He dared not jump but climbing down the ladder seemed hardly better. He had no choice though. His new owner was waiting for him and it would be very bad to start off by keeping him waiting. Gritting his teeth he turned and gingerly reached out for the top rung of the ladder.

Suddenly he found himself caught under the arms and lifted gently to the ground. The man, holding him by the arm, pushed him through the crowd towards the street to where a donkey stood utterly unmoving in the midst of the bustle and noise of the market. It was a particularly fat donkey and remarkably placid. It had been left to stand there without any attempt to tether it, the owner appearing to be confident that it had too much good sense and gravitas to wander off.

Ayas saw the donkey and his heart sank. It's presence indicated to him that his new master's home was probably some considerable way off and he faced a long and painful journey limping along behind it while his master rode on its back.

The next moment he was lifted onto the donkey's back.

"There's no need to be frightened," the man said kindly, "Penelope is very quite, just take a good grip of her mane and I'll lead her with the reigns."

For some reason he could not understand Ayas's eyes began to smart. He bit his lip trying to control himself. It was only after he had got this first and wholly illogical reaction to the man's kindness under control, that he realised that he, who had ridden Vulcan the strongest and fastest horse in the Peloponese, probably indeed in the whole of Greece, to victory so many times, was being told how to ride a very fat and very quiet donkey.

He began to shake with hardly suppressed laughter. The man misunderstanding the cause of his trembling reached up and placed a hand reassuringly on his bare thigh.

"It's all right," he said reassuringly, "I'll catch you if you fall."

Ayas had to bite his lip again.

Perched on the top of the donkey Ayas looked about himself curiously. He was confused by the bustle and the noise. He had never seen so many people crushed together in so small a space, all hurrying about in different directions. There were big crowds at the races but they were there for one purpose and there was a certain focus and discipline about them but here all seemed to be chaos. Everybody seemed to be intent on their own business jostling and pushing each other without regard to anyone else. And the noise was different to the roar of the crowd. as they cheered the horses towards the finishing line. Here there was an absolute cacophony of noise that assaulted your ears on every side, shop keepers crying their wares, metal workers hammering at their forges, were echoed back from the tall buildings that hedged the narrow streets and mingled with the shouts and curses of the people.

Yet despite his confusion he tried his best to keep some track of where he was being taken. He had by his calculations just two days, that day and the next, in which to warn the Thebans of the Spartan plan. Despite being bought by a man who promised to be the sort of owner, kind and gentle, that all slave boys dreamt of but few rarely came across he knew he would have to runaway as soon as he possibly could.

He felt very guilty about this. None of the things he had done or been involved in up to that moment had bothered him. Biting Ocytus balls off, firing Xionedes's villa and stables, stealing Vulcan, all of these seemed to him to be perfectly reasonable things to have done. Indeed he was mildly proud of the first. If ever anybody deserved to have his balls bitten off he told himself it was Ocytus. But he felt bad about running away from the man who was now walking quietly beside him a hand resting reassuringly on his bare thigh. He had paid all of eight drachma for him, a big sum for boy, almost enough to buy a decent horse. Running off would be tantamount to stealing that sum and very poor recompense for the kindness the man had shown him.

Still he was going to make a run for it and the sooner the better. So he tried to keep track of where they were going. However if it had not been to the mountains looming away to the North he would have quickly lost his bearings in the warren of narrow streets they entered once they turned of the main thoroughfare.

Beyond those mountains, he thought, lies Thebes and it is a help to know that. Although he had to admit to himself they did seem rather a long way off.

It seemed to Ayas that the further they went the slower the man walked. They were now passing along a narrow street with low blank walls on either side broken only by the occasional archway blocked in every instance by a pair of heavy wooden doors. The man who had already slowed to a snail's pace now stopped completely.

"Now boy," he said squeezing Ayas bare thigh, "you're not to be upset 3;"

Here it comes Ayas thought to himself. He's going to fuck me. He had been expecting this eventually. Why else had the man bought him? The only thing that surprised him was that it was here in the street. He had expected that he would wait until they had got back to his house. The alleyway though was deserted and he supposed the man could not wait any longer.

He prepared to get down off the donkey. It did not occur to him to resist. The man had paid good money for him and it was his right. Anyway he had been kind to him and he would do his very best to please him.

"She doesn't mean it," the man continued after a short pause totally overturning Ayas's presupposition and leaving him wondering what he was talking about. "Whatever she says she doesn't mean it. She's very kind hearted really. She's just got a hot temper and she cares so much. I want you to know you're very welcome at my house and she'll welcome you too 3; in the end."

Having said this the man turned away and knocked on a double door set in the wall near where they were standing. It seemed to Ayas that his knock somehow lacked authority. It was hesitant almost apologetic.

The doors were opened by an elderly white haired man whose face lit up with a smile when he saw who was there.

"Master," he said "you are back. I hope you had a good and profitable trip."

Then he stepped forward to take the donkey's reigns and saw Ayas sitting on her back. The smile vanished from his face.

"Master what have you there?" he asked his alarm apparent in his voice.

"That Theocrates? 3; Oh that yes 3; it's 3; it's a boy I bought 3; He was being mistreated in the slave market so I bought him 3;"

The man's attempt to sound casual and off hand didn't carry any conviction.

"Master you know what she's like," Theocrates sounded thoroughly frightened, "She's in the kitchen and she'll be sure to be out here in a moment and then there will be trouble."

Ayas hearing all this was completely puzzled. He could only suppose that the 'she' referred to with such trepidation was the mans wife and objected to the presence of pretty young slave boys in her household. He had heard stories about such women in the past although it seemed to him strange to make a fuss about such a minor and common place matter, almost as strange as a free man being bothered at all about what a woman thought.

At this moment a large red faced woman appeared from behind Theocrates. She didn't look like a freeman's wife. Her hands were white with flour, the sleeves of her rather dowdy dress rolled up to her elbows.

"You're back Master," she exclaimed putting to rest any doubts as to her status.

And then her eyes fell on Ayas.

"What's this," she demanded her voice rising.

"Ah Alcestis 3; I 3; I 3; er was just explaining to Theocrates here. A boy I bought 3; He was being mistreated in the slave market so I 3; I er in short I bought him."

"Of course Master nothing more reasonable I am sure Master 3; If you buy every boy that is mistreated in the slave market we'll have the house full in no time 3; And what's he's going to live on Master? He'll need feeding 3; boys do you know Master 3; Our business has suddenly looked up has it Master? That we can afford to feed another mouth or perhaps you're planning to sell Theocrates or me 3; or both of us so you can fill the house up with boys that have been given a hard time in the slave market."

"Now Alcestis you know I'll never sell either of you," the man protested. "You were my father's slaves before being mine and I promised him that if ever I got enough money together to set you up in a little business or other I'd give you your freedom. Have I ever done anything bad to you? I'll never sell either of you and you know that very well."

"You're a good master Attis," the woman admitted, "only too soft. I bet you've frittered the whole profits of this trip away on buying this boy. How much did you pay for him? 3; You needn't say Master 3; I can see it in your face 3; too much 3; I know it."

"I 3; er 3; only six drachma," the man replied.

Ayas noticed he had understated the amount by two drachma but the lie did him no good.

"Six drachma for that." Alcetis stormed, "you could buy three of him for that. You could buy a horse for you to ride on."

"I don't want a horse," Attis said mildly, "I prefer Penelope to any horse."

"And anyway," the woman demanded, "what's the brat doing up on the donkey while you're walking. It's a strange world where the master walks and the slave boy rides but maybe it suits your tastes Master."

"He's hurt his foot so I thought he'd better ride."

"Hurt his foot!!! You pay six drachma for a boy with a bad foot!!! 3;"

Alcestis raised both hands in the air and paused silent obviously inviting the world to witness the ingrained idiocy of her Master.

"So," she continued after a short interval, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "the poor delicate little child has hurt his foot and can't walk because it hurts the poor little fellow 3; Let me have a look at nasty foot you poor dear little boy."

Stepping up to the donkey she took hold of Ayas's ankle and lifted his foot so she could examine its soul.

"Very well," she said after a further pause, "since he's here I suppose we have to do something about that 3;"

"Don't try to walk on it boy. Theocrates will carry you into the kitchen. Master you go to your study. You'll only get upset and be no use at all."

Ayas found himself lifted bodily from the donkey and carried into the house.

"Sit him down on the table" Alcestis ordered as she busied herself at the kitchen hearth bringing a small cauldron of water to the boil.

"What's your name boy?" she asked .

"Ayas," he replied and then after a moments hesitation added, "Mistress."

He knew that she was a slave like himself but the way she ordered Theocrates about and the scant respect with which she treated the master of the house seemed to demand some deference.

"I'm no 'mistress'," the woman said tartly but a certain note in her voice made Ayas suspect that she was not displeased to be so addressed.

"Well Ayas," she continued, "I can't tell you you're welcome here, because you're not but here you are and we'll just have to make the best of it and the first thing to do is to get that foot of yours sorted out. You're no good to man or beast hobbling about on one foot like you are now."

"Rags for bandages and where is that 3;" she said looking about. "Ah here it is," and she picked up a small but very sharp looking knife.

"Now Ayas," Alcestis's voice had lost its usual acerbic tones and was almost gentle, "you're a tough looking little tyke. This is your chance to show Theocrates and me and the Master too because it's small house and he'll hear if you make a fuss, how brave you are."

She nodded at Theocrates who seized Ayas by his shoulders and forced his back down onto the table while Alcestis caught hold of his right ankle in a vice like grip.

"Pin him down with one hand on his chest and try to grab the other foot," she ordered. "I don't want him kicking me with it while I work."

The pain was sudden and extreme. Ayas screamed and roared as the knife cut away the rotten flesh. He tried to be brave but how could you be brave with pain like that. The sweat ran down Theocrates face as he fought to keep the frantically struggling boy pinned to the table. Alcestis had had to cut deeper than she had expected but she said nothing just getting on quietly with her work. At last she was satisfied that the last of the infection had been removed. She put down the knife and Ayas's screams fell away to a low sobbing.

Alcestis dipped the tips of her fingers into a jar of strongly smelling unguent.

"Watch out," she warned Theocrates, "he'll start again when I put this on his wound."

Shortly afterwards Ayas was sitting up on the table Alcestis suporting him with one arm round his shoulders while wiping his face clean with a warm damp cloth.

"It's done now," she said reassuringly, "it'll heal up nice and cleanly I'm sure. We just need to keep the bandages on it for a few days."

Ayas looked down at his right foot swathed in bandages.

"Do you think the Master heard me?" he asked anxiously. Somehow Attis's opinion mattered a lot to him.

"I'm sure he didn't," Alcestis said ruffling his hair.

Ayas could not understand why Alcestis and Theocrates were both smiling.

"Well," Theocrates said, "there doesn't seem anything more for me to do here. I'll go and look after Penelope."

"I'll help," Ayas said eagerly and before anyone could stop him swung his legs over the side of the table.

He slid to the floor and immediately the rom began to go round in circles.

Theocrates caught him before he fell and seated him on a stool by the hearth.

"You'd better just stay there for a bit," the man said gently, "you need a rest to get your strength back."

"I'm all right. Really I am," Ayas protested, "and I know about donkeys or well I know about horses and I suppose donkeys are the same as horses but smaller."

He genuinely wished to make himself useful and to gain the good opinion of these people and above all of Damos who had been so kind to him and had saved him from the slave market.

At the same time, although he felt very guilty about it, he was quite determined not to abandon his attempt to warn the Thebans of the coming Spartan attack. The Spartans had enslaved his people, killed his father, and destroyed his family. He was not going to stop now even though continuing meant behaving badly to a man who had been kind to him.

He now had only one and a bit days to get to Thebes. With his foot in its present condition if he was to go anywhere it would have to be on the back of something. He certainly could not walk. The only thing available to ride was Penelope so he needed to know where she was stabled so he could, and here he felt a redoubled twinge of guilt as he formulated the thought, steal her. He would have preferred something faster and bigger and more on the lines of Vulcan but in the absence of that a donkey would have to do.

As he hobbled after Theocrates he thought about Vulcan. He hoped he was all right. He wondered if the horse was missing him as much as he was missing it and if he had a new boy jockey and if so how they were getting on together.

Chapter 38

The double gates to the yard stood open and Penelope was nowhere to be seen. Watched by Ayas, Theocrates, apparently unconcerned by the disappearance of the donkey, swung the gates closed and secured them. A wooden catch and a couple of bolts were their only fastenings.

The man whistling quietly to himself walked across the yard to an open door way. Ayas limped after him surprised at how calmly he was taking the absence of Penelope. It seemed to him that with the gates open she could have gone anywhere.

"Don't come in the stable with those bandages on your foot. You stay here and stuff the net with hay for her while I get the bridle off her," Theocrates ordered.

Ayas could see that Penelope very sensibly had not wandered off but had simply walked across the yard and into the stable and was waiting there, patient as ever, to be fed and watered.

"I thought she might have strayed," Ayas said as he filled the net with sweet smelling hay.

"Strayed," Theocrates said fondly patting the donkey on the rump, "Penelope won't ever stray. She's too sensible an animal to do that. Aren't you girl? She knows when she's well off. She's couldn't have a kinder softer master and neither could we either."

"He's been very kind to me already," Ayas said.

"Here's the hay net. I've filled it," he continued, adding as he handed it to Theocrates, "what does the Master do?"

"You've filled this well. You've done the job before have you Ayas?" Theocrates remarked as he hung the net from a hook over Penelope's head..

"Yes I have. I said I'm used to working with horses."

"Well then you can come in here now the floors pretty clean and you can help me groom her."

"I don't think many donkeys get treated like this," Ayas said squatting beside her and vigorously brushing her hind leg.

"Penelope is not an ordinary donkey," Theocrates replied attacking her neck.

"As for the Master. He's what they call a merchant. We deal mainly in spices and sometimes jewellery small high priced items and travel all over Greece doing it. He was returning from a trip to Patras when he bought you.

"Has he ever been to Sparta?" Ayas asked with apparent innocence.

"Yes indeed. They're good customers of ours both for jewellery and spices despite claiming to live on bean stew and wearing only woollen cloaks. Why do you ask?"

"Oh my last Master was a Spartan and my biggest friend lives there. I wonder what Damon is doing now?" Ayas asked and sighed theatrically.

"Probably found another boy friend already," Theocrates replied robustly. "There's no point in hankering after old friends boy. You're a slave and you please your master not yourself. You'll forget about your old friend if you're wise."

"I suppose so," Ayas replied sniffing loudly and wiping a non-existent tear from his eye with the back of his hand.

He did miss Damos a bit but not enough to cry for him. He was with a cunning, that did not do him credit, deliberately trying to plant in Theocrates mind the impression that he was hankering for Sparta so when he ran it would be assumed he was running towards Sparta and not away from it. For he now had a plan of a sort at least.

He had noticed the that the gates were secured only by bolts and a latch. Quite sufficient to keep intruders out, utterly useless for keeping slave boys in. The stable containing the admirably quiet and docile Penelope with whom he had already established an easy rapport was conveniently situated immediately opposite the double gates. It would be easy early next morning to extract Penelope from the stables, shoot back the bolts and then ride off for Thebes on the donkey's back. With a bit of luck it might be a couple of hours before their absence was noted and then it would be very helpful if they thought he was heading for Sparta.

He could see nothing that could go wrong with the plan. It was not after all the sort of household where they were liable to even think of fettering a boy overnight to stop him running away.

Ayas would very much like to have asked some questions about the mountain road to Thebes but he could not see how he could do so without risking Theocrates remembering in the morning when they found he was gone and suspecting he was heading towards Thebes rather than to Sparta.

Though he had a plan he still felt bad about running away. He had thought about this quite a lot and decided that he would at least do something to repay his new master for his kindness before he left him. The conversation furthermore had rather conveniently come round to the point where he could reasonably raise the subject.

"Does the Master like boys then?" he asked.

"Attis like boys?" Theocrates said apparently startled. "Why do you ask?"

"Well you said I should please the Master not myself."

"Oh I see 3; well now 3; It's a funny thing with the Master and you couldn't get a better one but he's not too keen on that sort of thing. Often when I've been travelling with him we've stopped at an inn and he's been offered a boy or a girl for the night and he's refused. I asked him once why and he said sex was for animals, humans should strive for the things of the mind and the higher pleasures."

"But it's fun," Ayas protested who didn't know anything about the higher pleasures but knew what he liked.

"Well I can't say I disagree," Theocrates replied. "Attis used to spend a lot of time hanging around on the agora as a young man listening to the sophists and I think he picked up some silly ideas there. I think he likes boys well enough. You can tell by the way he looks at them and he bought you too. He just thinks that love should be a spiritual union of two souls – that's what he says – I don't know what it means and I don't think he knows either."

Ayas didn't say 'silly ass', first because it would have been disrespectful and second because Greek boys of the fourth century before Christ did not express themselves in that way, but that was what he thought. He didn't have many pleasures in his life but sex was one of them. It provided the only escape, brief though it was from the harsh realities and squalor of his life. What if dogs and cats and horses and donkeys and everything else that moved and breathed did it? Good luck to them – it was no reason why he shouldn't as well.

And Attis was missing out a lot believing such nonsense. Ayas shook his head in bewilderment at the stupid things Masters could make themselves believe. He decided the least he could do before he ran away to repay the man for his kindness was to show him what he was missing by believing such nonsense.

After Penelope had been fed, watered and generally pampered they returned to the kitchen.

Theocrates walked straight in and seated himself on a bench at the big kitchen table. Alcestis filled a bowl from a cauldron of bean stew and carried it over to him.

"I suppose," Alcestis said returning to the stove, "you're hungry too. Boys generally are."

Ayas was very hungry and the stew looked and smelt very good but he was in considerable awe of the woman as indeed the whole household including its master appeared to be. Uncertain what to say he stood just inside the doorway shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

"Well," she said impatiently spooning a generous stew into another bowl, "don't stand there staring at me come here. I haven't all day."

Ayas took the bowl, hesitated and then set off for the door. It was his intention to find somewhere in the shade in the yard where he could sit on the ground and eat it. He was sure he was not allowed to sit at the table.

"Where are you going boy?" Alcestis snapped, "come back here there's bread and water on the table for you."

"Try a bit of wine with the water?" Theocrates suggested as Ayas began to eat greedily.

"Wine! – he's just a boy. Don't you dare give him wine. Boys are bad enough sober, idle stupid little brutes," as she delivered this comprehensive condemnation Alcestis dumped another generous ladle full of stew in Ayas's bowl. "They're trouble when they're sober let alone drunk."

"I don't know what the Master wanted him for or what we're going to do with him now we've got him. If the Master was like any other master we'd have no difficulty in working out why he bought a pretty boy like that and the brat would be kept busy as well satisfying him. But with him having those stupid ideas of his about sex being disgusting or something – I can't say I understand what he's going on about most of the time – I can't imagine what he bought the boy for or what we are going to do with him. But I tell you what Theocrates if we don't find something to keep him busy he'll be real trouble."

"The bread on the table is there to eat boy," she continued as Ayas hesitated to help himself.

"He was very good with Penelope," Theocrates hazarded nervously.

"Fussing over one fat donkey who anyway gets more attention than is good for her won't keep the boy busy all day long."

"Please Mistress," Ayas said speaking through a mouthful of black bread, "I could serve him his wine this evening. I know how."

"I told you once," Alcestis said clipping Ayas hard on the ear, "don't call me Mistress."

"Sorry Mother," Ayas said grinning ruefully and rubbing his stinging ear, "but I did."

"And you learnt how to do a few other things I'm sure, a pretty boy like you. Well I would say it wouldn't be a bad thing if you could make the Master behave a bit more like other men. The way he is now is pure silly and unnatural and he likes a cup of wine or two."

"Well I'll have his supper to take into him soon now and you can come along with me then. We'll have to get you cleaned up before then."

"I was washed really thoroughly before the auction this morning," Ayas like any other boy wanted to keep washing to a minimum.

"And since then you've been out in the street and in the stable and goodness knows what else. You've got to be nice and clean and sweet if you're to serve the Master. Now come out of there so I can start cleaning you up."

Taking a firm grip of one ear, Alcestis hauled the boy to his feet and dragged him over to stand near the open hearth. Ayas opened his mouth to protest but was promptly silenced with a wet rag. Realising argument was pointless Ayas stood quietly as Alcestis set vigorously to work scrubbing his body clean.

Half an hour later Ayas was ready. His dark hair had been brushed until it gleamed. His lithe young body, tanned a deep nut brown by the sun, washed and oiled, glistened in the sunlight. The slightest trace of a smear of grease in the cleft of his bottom showed he had been prepared for his master's entertainment.

"If the Master doesn't want the boy I'll have him," Theocrates said with a laugh and Ayas, his excitement obvious grinned, and wriggled his bum invitingly

"More actions not words from you old man," Alcestis snapped, "and you Ayas, safe those sort of antics for the Master. Don't forget he's paid good money for you and you belong to him."

Ayas followed Alcestis across the yard to the part of the house where the Master lived. Alcestis carried a heavy tray bearing a number of plates from which a succulent scent of roast kid and saffron rose that teased the boy's nostrils. Ayas carried a lighter tray on which was set a drinking bowl, a jug of wine and a ewer of water.

Attis was lying propped up on his elbow on a couch reading a scroll. He looked up as they entered and smiled.

"Ah Alcestis," he said happily, "my dinner, it smells delicious but then the meals you make me always do."

"Tell me," he continued easily, "how is the boy settling in I hope 3;"

He caught sight of Ayas standing naked and very obviously aroused behind Alcestis. His jaw dropped and his face assumed an expression of almost comical alarm. He sat up on the couch swinging his legs round so that his feet were on the ground, looking as though he was going to take flight.

"The boys no worse than most Master," Alcestis replied shortly placing the tray she was carrying on the table by the couch. "He'll serve you this evening. Take my advice Master let him feel the weight of his hand if he plays you up. It's the only thing he'll take notice of."

"Alcestis I'd much prefer you to serve me tonight 3; I'm sure the boy 3; what's his name 3; I'm sure he's too tired and his foot must hurt much too much 3;"

"The brat's name is Ayas Master," Alcestis said brusquely cutting through Attis's panic stricken stammering, "and if you think Master I'm going to spend my time serving your dinner when I have a hundred things to do in the kitchen and there is a perfectly good boy available to do the job you are mistaken."

"But Alcestis 3; please 3;"

"Master, no. You bought the boy, now you've got to find a use for him. And what's more I'm not going to have a boy hanging round my kitchen doing nothing. He'd sure to get into mischief."

"Alcestis 3;" but it was too late Alcestis had already left the room.

Ayas keeping his head respectfully bowed limped forward and placed his tray on the table. Taking the drinking bowl he filled it with dark red wine. He left no room for water. He thought Attis would in the circumstances probably prefer to drink it neat. He placed the bowl beside the plate of steaming kid stew and having bowed deeply, backed away to stand holding the jug of wine in both hands. The impression of demure innocence was rather marred by his swollen boy's prick jutting upright its pink tip almost level with his belly button.

Attis glanced at him, blushed crimson and quickly looked away. He grabbed the drinking bowl and lifted it with a shaking hand to his lips. Some of the wine he spilt down his tunic. The rest he swallowed in one gulp.

Ayas moved forward and refilled it.

This time however he did not return to his place at the side of the room. Instead he dropped to his knees and taking hold of Attis's hand he lifted it to his lips.

"Master," he said, "I want to thank you for your kindness. You are a good man."

Attis attempted to speak but could only manage a few inarticulate mumblings. He tried gently to free his hand from Ayas's grasp. Looking down at the dark crown of the naked boy's head bowed over his hand, seeing the lad's narrow shoulders and firm young body, knowing that the boy was his to do what he liked with he felt excitement and pity and fear and revulsion.

Excitement for he was only human and who would not in these circumstances not be excited. But, he told himself, it is because I am human that I can rise above these feelings and it is this ability that distinguishes us from mere animals and thus achieve the higher spiritual satisfactions that only the human soul can attain. At least that was what the stoic Diogenes had taught. He was though finding it very difficult to control his animal instincts and he couldn't help but wonder whether Diogenes had ever been in a similar situation to his at that moment.

Mixed with the excitement was pity for the boy who knelt at his feet so totally vulnerable and powerless. His slim young body looked so fragile. The boy had thanked him for his kindness. He could imagine how rare a thing kindness had been in that boy's brief life. How could anyone hurt something so beautiful and so weak?

But even as he asked that question he sensed, to his shame, the answer. The boy's helplessness was in itself an incitement. Try as he might he could not hide that from himself. The urge to dominate and possess was strong, almost he feared, with a feeling of intense self disgust, irresistible.

Ayas was a simple uncomplicated young animal and had no conception of the conflicting emotions that were troubling Attis. Sensing though that the man was trying to free his hand from his grasp he turned it upwards and nuzzled its palm before releasing it. Leaning his head cheek against the side of the man's thigh he smiled up at him.

Attis looked down into the boy's sun tanned face, saw the small white teeth gleaming between his slightly parted lips, the big brown eyes looking pleadingly up into his. His resolution cracked and he was lost.

Stretching out his hand he gently stroked the boy's hair.

With a single lithe movement Ayas was kneeling between the man's legs, his hands reaching up under his tunic, fumbling with his loincloth.

"No," Attis said, "no," but even as he said it he was lifting himself on the couch and pulling his tunic upwards to facilitate Ayas's removal of his loincloth.

The strip of cloth came away and Ayas buried his face in the man's crutch. Getting his head down low he pushed his tongue up behind the Attis's balls, teasing the man's perineum with the tip of his tongue.

Attis threw himself back on the couch arching his back as he experienced the most exquisite pleasure.

'The last time I did this,' Ayas thought as he took the man's balls into his mouth, 'it was with Ocytus and I bit them off.' This time though his intention was to show gratitude, to give pleasure, so as too make good in advance, as much as it was in his power to do so, the injury he was going to do his master by running away. He pressed his nose into the man's coarse pubic hair, his nostrils were full of the man's animal smells. He kissed Attis's balls and sucked gently on them making sure his teeth did not even touch them bringing the man to new heights of excitement.

Then he ran his tongue the length of the man's rigid member running its tip round the swollen pink cap before licking the beads of precum welling from his urethra. Then he took Attis's cock into his mouth. Feeling the man's blood pounding inside it, it's swollen veins rough against his lips.

Attis moaned in excitement and began to move his hips, working his cock between the boy's soft warm lips.

Ayas expected to feel the man's hand on the back of his head forcing it down on his cock but Attis even in his excitement hesitated, fearful of hurting the boy.

"If he's not going to do it I'll have too it myself," Ayas thought and taking a deep breath he swallowed the man's cock taking its full length down into his throat. He held it there while his gullet contracting around it.

Attis moaned again, more loudly and urgently than before. Ayas spluttered and swallowed and gasped as the man's cock convulsed and shot his seed deep in his throat.

"Are you all right?" Attis asked anxiously as Ayas gagged on his cum.

Ayas made no reply but wiping his mouth on the back of his hand launched himself upwards and clasping his arms tight around Attis's neck kissed him fiercely on his lips.

The momentary feeling of self disgust and doubt that gripped Attis immediately after ejaculation vanished as he found his arms full of wriggling eager boy. He responded enthusiastically tasting his own cum as he darted his tongue between the boy's parted lips.

Ayas broke the embrace nibbling the lobe of an ear, nuzzling his neck, licking and then gently bighting on his nipples, exploring his belly button with the tip of his tongue, as he worked his way down the man's body using his lips and tongue as he did so.

Again he took Attis's penis, once again swollen and throbbing, into his mouth. This time though he did not bring him to a climax. Once he had the man's rod well lubricated with saliva he hunkered back on his heels.

"Fuck me Master," he said and threw himself face down up the couch his legs spread and bottom raised invitingly.

Attis heated by the wine he had drunk and any last inhibitions banished by the sight of the boy so invitingly displayed, knelt between the boy's legs, took aim with his cock and thrust downwards.

"It won't go in 3;" he gasped.

"Push harder Master harder 3;," and then Ayas cried out at the sharp pain as his sphincter was forced.

"I'm hurting you," Attis said hesitating.

Ayas pushed his bottom upwards driving the man's prick further into himself.

"Deeper Master deeper," he moaned urgently.

Attis needed no further encouragement.

Ayas brought his Master to a climax four further times that night before Attis fell asleep exhausted and rather drunk.

Ayas woke just before dawn to find Attis lying beside him. He disentangled himself gently from the sleeping man.

The untouched plate of kid stew was lying on the table by the couch. Ayas ate it quickly.

"After all," he said to himself, "I don't know when I will next have something to eat." He was a very practical boy.

He knelt beside the couch and kissed the sleeping man's hand. He felt very guilty about running away and leaving the only master he had ever had who had shown him any kindness but he had done his best to please Attis and he thought the man had enjoyed it.

Outside he washed himself in a bucket of water drawn from the well. His bottom was sore but he was relieved to see there was no blood. Collecting Penelope from her stable he led her across the small courtyard to the wooden doors opening onto the street. He slid back the bolts and eased one of the doors open. Penelope followed him out into the lane. Jumping on her back he dug his heels into her flanks and she set off at a sedate walk.

Ayas did feel bad about running away from a master who had treated him so well but the morning air was pleasantly cool and sweet, the sun was shining, his tummy was full of cold goat's stew, and he was on the final leg of his journey to Thebes. Soon he forgot his feelings of guilt and he looked about himself eagerly as Penelope and he made there way through the almost deserted streets of the city.

Getting out of Corinth presented no real difficulties although the city seemed a large and frightening place to Ayas. Penelope seemed to know her own way to the main street. Once there she hesitated as if asking which way to go. Ayas turned her to head towards the mountains to the North which he could see over the roofs of the houses and she obedient;y set off again at the same sedate pace. Ayas tried to get her to go faster but she would not be hurried and he soon gave up.

There were beginning to be more people about in the streets now but they paid no attention to Ayas. To them he was simply a young slave boy on a donkey sent off on some early morning errand by his master.

Once out of the city though Ayas began to worry. The road instead of heading North turned to the East with the sea close on the right side. There were a number of tracks leading off to left but they were mere farm tracks. On and on the road ran beside the sea as the sun climbed ever higher in the sky. It became clear as he travelled along that the mountains that he had seen to the North of Corinth was an isolated range. Beyond them and much further the North rose even higher ones.

Ayas began to wonder whether he had missed the turning when he saw before him a taverna with a road, more a track really but larger and better surfaced than any he had earlier seen, leading off to the left.

A naked boy, about the same age as himself, was engaged in not very energetically sweeping the dust from the terrace in front of the taverna.

"I'd better check if that is the right road before I set out along it," Ayas thought but I had better better not let on that I am going to Thebes. That might star people asking questions."

"Hi," he called out to the boy, pulling on the reigns to bring Penelope to a halt, "do you know a farmer round here called Stavros? He lives on the mountain road to Thebes."

"Well that's the mountain road," the boy replied willingly putting the broom down and pointing at the track leading off to the left, "but there are about a hundred farmers called Stavros round here."

Ayas raised his hand in thanks and turning Penelope to head up the track pressed his heels into her flanks. Penelope set off at her usual unhurried pace.

At first the track ran across a broad dusty plain with the occasional village or isolated farm house. There were people about but nobody paid much attention to the slave boy on the donkey passing by.

Time passed. Penelope trudged tirelessly along with Ayas, the initial excitement gone, almost dozing on her back. Eventually the track began to rise steeply upwards. Farm land gave way to pine forests. As they gained in height the suffocating heat of the plain was replaced by cooler air. Then they were out on the bare mountain side clear of the trees.

Above him, where the track ran through a narrow valley cutting through the mountain ridge Ayas saw the sun glint on bare metal.

"Soldiers," he thought to himself, "I hope they are not Spartans or robbers either. Not that I have anything to steal, apart of course from Penelope."

As he got nearer the could see on the summit of the pass a group of tents with a dozen or so men lounging outside them in the sun. They were soldiers and lacking the long hair affected by the Spartans, he assumed they were Thebans.

When he got within a couple of hundred paces of the men he stopped Penelope and slipping from her back to the ground, he turned her to face down the hill. He had become very fond of her over the two days he had known her. She was a gentle good natured animal and she couldn't be blamed for not being faster, after all, he reminded himself, she was a donkey not a race horse. Now though he felt the time had come when they had to part. He didn't think the soldiers would appreciate her many qualities or treat her well. Anyway she belonged to Attis and he was not going to add to the injury he had done that good kind man by running away by stealing his donkey.

He put his arms round Penelope's neck and hugged her. Then stepping back he gave her a firm slap across her rump. She hesitated, looked back at him and then started to walk at the same steady unhurried pace that she had maintained all that day back down the track the way they had come.

Ayas stood a moment looking after hr. He had a high opinion of her sagacity and he thought it very likely that she would be back in her own stables within a few days.

Then he turned and began to limp up the hill towards the soldiers.

As he drew nearer one of the soldiers stepped out onto the track blocking his way.

"Who are you boy," he demanded, "and what do you want up here."

"I am," Ayas replied unconsciously echoing the formula used by noble born Spartan youths when introducing themselves, "Ayas son of Misinus the Helot and I wish to speak to your general Epaminondas."

The man roared with laughter.

"And what Ayas son of Misinus the Helot do you want to say to our General?" he asked still laughing.

"I know the Spartan plans to attack Thebes and I have come to warn him," Ayas replied feeling that everything was going wrong just when he thought success was at hand.

Without warning the man slammed his fist into the side of his head knocking Ayas to the ground.

"Insolent little brute," he said kicking him viciously in the ribs, "coming up here spinning some tale nobody could believe. Do you think we're fools boy. How could a slave brat like you know the Spartan's war plan."

"What's going on?" another soldier called out from the group of lounging men.

"A run away slave boy coming up here with some cock and bull story hoping to escape his master and maybe pick up a reward at the same time."

"Make a tripod from your spears and we'll hang the brat from that by his wrists and bloody his back with the horse whip before sending him back down the mountain to his owner. We don't want to be bothered with scum like this and if we whip him well it'll send a message to all the other slave filth. We're fighting the Spartans. We don't want to have to deal with a lot of run away slaves or put down a slave revolt as well."