Lupercalia - 1. Story

I heard rumors about him. The strange prisoner set to be executed fourteen days from now was said to have some sort of power over others. I shrugged at them when they told me to be on my guard. What could he do? Locked up and shackled to a wall? Nothing. In my eyes, he was completely powerless, at my mercy.

I was wrong.

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When I walked into his cell the morning after he was transferred to our prison, he flinched but didn’t make any further movement. He didn’t speak. He kept his eyes down at first. Then curiosity seemed to get a hold of him and he dared to look at me. I was just about to instruct him to lower his gaze, when I saw him. Actually saw him. There was something different about this one. Something I couldn’t put my finger on. His eyes were so big, much too big for his gaunt face. His body bore obvious signs of treatment he’d received before he ended up here. He was bruised, bloodied and beaten. His back showed just how severely he had been flogged. I guessed being held captive for so long had left its marks on him. I had to swallow hard to not make a sound of disgust or compassion. Either a dangerous way to show emotion.

We weren’t supposed to show emotion. It could be seen as traitorous. Still, it always made me queasy to see those marks. That was part of why I much preferred my current posting as guard of the prison. I wasn’t in charge of investigating any infractions, real or merely perceived, against the emperor. My duty was to keep prisoners in place, awaiting execution. Most were in a way looking forward to death, to not be tortured anymore. Some were desperate, but I handled them with calm. Usually, they settled in for the wait and I could see them off to their final destination, knowing their last days had been tolerable.

Working here wasn’t my choice though. I didn’t sign up for this kind of duty. I was a warrior, meant to make my living on the battle field. After years of war, there was finally peace. For now. However, the emperor didn’t dare to let us all go back home. The previous attempts with an army that was mustered when needed had proven difficult to handle. If disbanded, it would take a very long time to assemble the army once more, time he wouldn’t have if or more likely when the enemy attacked. Also, if we were on the emperor’s payroll and not concerned about farms or families back home, the emperor believed we would be more loyal. The new army was therefore made up by men employed directly by the emperor for a period of twenty years. This meant he could easily decide that many of us had to stay in the capital, ready if war broke out again. To earn our keep, we worked as guards in and around Rome. My contubernium, my group of eight men who I lived and fought with, had been placed at a prison for particularly dangerous prisoners, awaiting execution. The eight of us were still led by our decanus, just as on the battle field.

It wasn’t so bad. I had grown weary of the battle field having spent so much of my life with a sword in my hand. I was so tired of war, even though it was my profession. Perhaps because it was my profession. I had lost so many friends I no longer took the time to make new ones anymore. Why bother if I would only lose them? So my life was solitary and I preferred it that way. Hopefully, there would be no more wars for years to come and I could serve out my time and leave. Perhaps go live with my sister who had a small farm just north of Rome. Her husband liked me for some reason. Even if I wasn’t a farmer, I could work hard and pull my weight.

I was loyal to the emperor though. He served the people of Rome well, improving life even for the less fortunate of the city’s inhabitants. Still, I sometimes couldn’t help but wonder about some of the prisoners that came through our gates. For the most part, they were murderers, thieves or wrong doers. Then on occasion, one showed up who simply didn’t fit the mold, didn’t seem to belong.

This was one of those times.

I looked away, a bit perplexed at my own reaction. He just looked so out of place. A slim, if not skinny young man. His dark eyes tired and his shoulders hunched over, as if set in resignation. He appeared to have given up hope. Just as well. That usually made my work easier.

Didn’t stop me from noticing that underneath the blood and the dirt he was simply beautiful.

This was my curse. Wanting something different. It was generally seen as acceptable behavior, if a bit indulgent, for men in general to satisfy their needs with another man. There were even some couples where both were male, but these pairings weren’t seen as proper relationships. In the eyes of society, one party was always regarded as inferior, less of a man. For a man to let himself be penetrated meant that even if he wasn’t a slave, he wasn’t regarded as a fully free man. I could never understand this. Why would it matter who enjoyed what?

For us in the military, any kind of regular life was difficult. We weren’t allowed to live outside the barracks. Marriage was even against the law, since married men were believed to be less focused on fighting. A very unpopular law, but it was the will of the emperor and had to be obeyed.

In addition, soldiers were expected to be model citizens. In control, disciplined. That meant any sexual encounters between brothers in arms were strictly forbidden. It was allowed to buy a night’s entertainment or a temporary distraction, but on the pay I got that was a luxury I could seldom afford. Instead, I had to seek my release in hurried, secret meetings with different fellow soldiers, nothing more. Never anything more.

That wasn’t what I wanted anymore. I looked at my sister and saw how happy she was with her husband; how happy he was with my sister. They didn’t live the usual separate lives that was common in Rome, where a marriage often was more about business, money or politics than love or even happiness. Sure, Livia and Quintus were joined to ensure our family farm would prosper, Quintus bringing in money but having no land. He turned out to be a good man, though.

On the rare occasions I got to go on leave, I stayed with them. I used to sit and watch in envy at their relaxed relationship. The subtle ways they showed their affection for each other. Not ostentatious by any means, that was simply not done. But looks, smiles, the occasional lingering touch to a shoulder, an arm or neck. I wanted that. Of course I sought my pleasure once in a while, but could not seem to find true satisfaction these days. I knew why. It simply wasn’t enough for me to just come and leave these days. I wanted a companion. I wanted a husband. A woman wouldn’t do, even if I knew it was expected of me to take a wife. My desires lay elsewhere.

For me though, giving in to my desires would mean the end of my career. An end in disgrace.

Looking at the odd prisoner before me, I felt the familiar ache deep down in my stomach. This was a very bad idea. Some guards used the prisoners, but what I wanted was not that. I pushed the thought aside. It would be madness to even consider acting on my impulse.

I put down the food in my hand in front of him. He stared at it and then glanced up at me. Cautious but obviously hungry, if the way he licked his lips was anything to go by. Food wasn’t much, usually a thin stew with very little meat and a piece of bread. The breakfast they got was even less, usually just tea and bread.

I signaled for him to hold up his hands, so I could unlock his shackled hands. All prisoners had their hands chained together and fastened to the wall for safety. Not that they could go anywhere even if they managed to overpower one of the guards. The rest of the prison was locked and full of guards. Still, it made our lives easier. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of an angry or panicked prisoner’s violence.

His out held arms were very thin, sinewy. His wrists were chafed red from the manacles. I briefly thought it would need attending, but then realized it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be here long enough for it to be a problem.

”Eat!” I more grunted than spoke to him. He crawled over on his knees and put the bowl to his mouth faster than I thought possible. Maybe they hadn’t bothered to feed him before. Wasn’t all that uncommon. I made sure they ate under my watch. Another way of keeping people calm. Buy their loyalty with food.

As he ate, I took the time to study him closer. His hair was very dirty, but I could tell he had hair a few shades lighter than my own dark brown. Maybe he was from the north. Maybe he was the result of a liaison between a northern slave and a locally born. Many of those around. Outcast, marked for servitude.

His back was crisscrossed by lashes, some old, but many recent. There was some dried blood on his back. He had apparently been beaten severely. Why? It was none of my business and the less I knew the better. It would make it easier to send him off.

He lowered his now empty bowl, keeping his eyes somewhere at my knees.

”Thank you.” His voice was soft, without any trace of an accent. That surprised me, given his looks. What surprised me even more was that he actually had thanked me. I took the bowl, secured his hands again and left. He didn’t strike me as someone I had to watch more closely. Not like some of the other prisoners we had to deal with.

I came into the guard room and saw the decanus. I felt I had to ask about him.

”That new prisoner, why is he here? Why is everyone saying we should watch our backs? Seems harmless to me. Weak and unskilled in battle.” I tried to sound appropriately disinterested and almost as if I was only making small talk.

”He’s one of those who call themselves Christians. Flesh eating freaks! Who knows what else they do in those secret meetings they have, refusing to let anyone in? It’s not normal! He refused to swear his loyalty to the emperor and made no secret about breaking the law. Stupid idiot! What good is his god to him now? With him set to die at Lupercalia? He was trying to convince everyone he met to serve only his god. Where would that lead? Who knows what would happen to the empire? A disaster to not honor the gods! Disaster I tell you!” The decanus huffed. It was clear what he thought of the young man.

I had a hard time believing a man like that would lead to the downfall of the empire. He looked so harmless. But what did I know? I had no insight in religious matters, being only a simple warrior doing as he was told. Breaking some of the laws was punishable by death and executions were almost always a part of any major celebration in the city, like at Lupercalia. To me, it felt like an odd way to celebrate the birth of the city and the coming of spring; promoting health and fertility by carrying out executions. I guessed the emperor wanted to show his immense and unimpeded power while providing a grim spectacle for the people.

The scene repeated itself for a couple of days when I came to feed him. He was always polite and well behaved, held out his hands for me to unshackle him and then just as calmly held them out to be locked up again. As I stood there next to him, waiting for him to finish I couldn’t stop watching him. Something about him wouldn’t leave me alone. I was beginning to wonder if he really was resigned or if his complacency had other reasons. His calm was impressive and he radiated a peace that fascinated me. Most prisoners were in different stages of panic or rage, knowing they were set to die soon. Not him. His movements when he ate were always calm and controlled, strangely fluid. I could find myself staring at his hands or the way he bent his neck. In the morning, I was anxious to get to his cell, to give him his morning rations. A few times, the decanus called for me and I realized I had lingered in his cell too long. It was just increasingly difficult to leave. I even dreamt of him, his eyes haunting me in my sleep. Looking straight into me, into my soul. But only in my sleep. He didn’t acknowledge me much, no talking or pleading. In fact, he treated me much like I was simply part of the cell. Another bar blocking the exit. Whatever it was I saw or felt, he didn’t experience it.

When I came in the fourth day with his food, I found him lying on the dirty blanket in the corner. He didn’t get up. Didn’t raise his head to look at me. He didn’t even move. I went over to him.

”Hey!” I tried to get a reaction. Still nothing. The thought that he was dead crossed my mind and left me strangely sad. He only had days to live as it was, but for some reason I didn’t want him to get cheated out of those last days in his life.

I fell to my knees next to him, not worried even if it was a trap. The scrap of a man was no match for me. I doubted he had ever been in battle and if he had, I was still bigger than him. Besides, while I might not wear my full armor, even if this was the rule, I still had enough protection from my heavy tunic and pteruges, the leather skirt that protected my lower body. I also had my gladius at my belt. The short sword that had kept me safe during many battles. Going unarmed was not an option, not even in peacetime. Carefully, I put a hand on his shoulder. He was not dead, but I could tell he had a high fever. Just as I let my hand slide towards his neck, he jerked and woke up. With his eyes shiny from fever and his face deathly pale, his eyes looked even bigger than usual. He shivered violently. I held out the bowl of food. He shrugged and turned away from me.

”You must eat.” When I had said the words, I realized I sounded like my mother.

”Why?” His reply was low but clear and it left me without response. Why indeed? Why should he eat? To survive long enough for the emperor could have his justice and kill him?

”To get well.” The words sounded hollow, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I wanted him to eat, to get better.

He made no move to take the food. I set it down next to him and left.

Coming back to retrieve the bowl, I saw he hadn’t touched it. He was shaking more continuously now, which told me his fever was worse. It was my job to make sure he was kept alive in prison. At least that’s what I told myself. Getting down next to him, I grabbed his shoulders and turned him over. He ended up across my lap. His eyes fluttered open, but looked glazed over. Unsure if he actually saw me, I decided to tell him what I was doing.

”I’m going to feed you now.” Giving him no choice, I put the bowl to his mouth and made him sip. He coughed and spilled some of the content, but I made sure he got the majority of it down. After feeding him a mug of water, I put him down again and left.

This repeated for two more days, until he was finally too weak to eat. No matter how much I tried, he wouldn’t swallow. Frustrated, I went to the decanus.

”He’s so sick he can’t eat. We should send for the doctor.”

The decanus stared at me like I had suddenly grown as many heads as Cerberus.

”Doctor? For a prisoner like him? Why not just spare him the anguish of execution and let him die?” His words made sense, but I couldn’t accept them.

”It is our duty to keep him alive until…” I tried to convince him.

”No doctor! Just let him die.” The decanus turned from me, letting me know the subject was closed.

Only, it wasn’t. I couldn’t let it go. Wouldn’t let it go. His pained eyes kept bothering me. Quietly, I sent word for my sister to meet me at a certain square in the city. I lived at the prison and she couldn’t come there. I couldn’t wait for a reply, but hoped she would do as I asked.

At the appointed time, I was there, feeling inexplicably nervous. I was going against the decanus’ orders, but not to an extent it should make me this nervous. Pulling my cloak tighter, I fingered the little bronze fibula holding it together. It was the broach my mother gave me when I enlisted in the army. Feeling it under my fingertips always calmed me down, knowing someone in this world loved me.

”Varius!” The hushed call reached me from across the square. Livia! Finally!

She rushed over and hugged me. I could see her escort, two male slaves, waiting on the other side. Her husband didn’t like her to travel unguarded. He let her out, though. Not a given for many women. Trying to keep Livia locked up would not have worked though. She was too strong willed and he was smart enough to realize that.

”What is this about you needing mother’s healing herbs? Are you hurt?” Her worried eyes scanned me and when she came up with nothing, she looked puzzled.

”It’s not for me. There’s a…” I paused, thinking about what to say. Now, my hurried message to her seemed not completely thought through. Her deep brown eyes held nothing but love for me and I decided to tell her the truth. Even if I wasn’t exactly sure what the truth was.

“There is a prisoner who is very sick. He won’t live if he doesn’t get help. Decanus won’t call for a doctor.”

“But Varius, why would you care? Isn’t he set for execution?” Livia asked the questions I really couldn’t answer.

“Yes, at Lupercalia. But I just don’t think it’s right for him to die before that time.” I felt like I was doing a very poor job at explaining myself to my sister. Probably because I didn’t know the answers myself. Or perhaps I knew all too well deep down and was afraid of them.

“Please, we don’t have much time! Just give me the herbs!” One good thing about siblings was you could always skip the pleasantries. Livia held out the basket for me. I thanked her and headed back to the prison, where I hid the medicine among my other personal items, behind the rest of my armor and weapons.

Sleep didn’t come till late that night. In the morning, I should have been sluggish and tired, but instead I rushed down to get his meager breakfast and then over to his cell. Opening the door was nerve wrecking. I didn’t know what I would find. Had he died in the night?

I found him in the same place as before, on his blanket. His breathing was labored and he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. After trying and failing to wake him, I wiped him off with a rag and some water to clean him up at least a little. I then began treating his wounds with an herbal ointment mother used when we got cuts and scrapes. He hardly reacted, even though it must have been painful. Mixing another set of herbs with water, I set about getting the mixture down his throat. With him more or less unconscious, it wasn’t easy. Eventually, he got some down and I decided to leave it. I didn’t want decanus or another guard to notice why I was taking so long.

For three days, I kept up my secret care for him. Slowly, he got better and by the evening of the third day he could sit up and even eat on his own. I stayed to watch him eat, sitting on the floor opposite him with my back against the door. That way I would know immediately if someone tried to get in and would have time to assume a more guard like stance.

He was still deathly pale, but the fever was almost gone. His hands were shaking as they held the bowl, but he was sitting up on his own. I still couldn’t figure out the hold he had on me. This tiny, smelly man.

“Why did you do it?” His question almost made me jump. His voice was raspy from not being used for days, but there was no hesitation. I wondered if he ever felt as insecure as I did sometimes. Where did he find that inner strength?

“Do what?” I of course knew what he was asking, but answering with a question bought me time to think of a response. A response I after days of thinking still didn’t have.

“You saved me. Why? I will die soon anyway.” The way he said it, all matter of fact, made me upset. Didn’t he value his life more than this? Wasn’t he angry?

“You will die at Lupercalia as sentenced, not in this prison.” Not under my watch went through my head, but I didn’t say it.

“A few more days then.” He sank back into himself, silent.

“Don’t you care at all?” I couldn’t stop my voice from sounding upset.

“Care? About what?” He turned his eyes to mine and in them I saw a peace so great it startled me.

“You really don’t care if you live or die?”

“It’s beyond my control. I cannot fight the entire Roman empire.” A small smile graced his lips.

His lack of emotion made me angry in his stead.

“You could save yourself! Not insist on not honoring the gods or the emperor!” I was suddenly furious with him. He had given up, when he still had options. “Your god won’t save you now!”

“No, he won’t.”

His reply deflated my anger. He knew and he still persisted?

“But if you won’t be saved then why don’t you change your ways?” I was sure I sounded as bewildered as I felt.

“Then I will truly be lost.” His calm eyes met mine, suddenly unyielding.

I didn’t understand and I had to leave before anyone came looking for me. The whole day, I thought about his reply. When I came back in the evening, I felt I had to ask him.

“What did you mean before? Why would you be lost?”

He looked at me and gestured for me to sit beside him. Hesitantly, I sat down on his blanket next to him. Then he began telling me about his god, his beliefs and his church. How it guided him through life, making sure he lived his life in love and faith. It sounded nothing like the rumors we heard about the Christians. It was more like a close family of many brothers and sisters, sharing what they had with each other. Trying to spread the word of their god to others. Not the dangerous or subversive flesh eating cult they were made out to be.

Listening to him made me forget about time. Suddenly, I realized the moon was up and it was late. Very late. Had anyone noticed I hadn’t come out? What should I do? They would have changed the guards by now and if I ran into the night watch on my way to my bed, they would ask questions. Questions I couldn’t answer. The men in my contubernium would perhaps miss me tonight, but they would never turn me in. Probably suspect I had snuck out to get release somewhere. I looked at the door and then down at the floor. He noticed my sudden unease.

“If you need to go, then go.”

I looked at him, then rubbed my face with my hands.

“I can’t. I’m sort of stuck in here. We’re not allowed to leave the barracks at night and certainly not allowed in the cells.” I felt stupid for saying this. It put the power in his hands. If he yelled out, the night watch would find me and that would mean serious trouble.

“Then stay.” He moved slightly further back on his blanket, apparently offering me to share. I blinked at him, not quite believing he would let me share his place of sleep. I couldn’t call it a bed, but still he offered me half.

I was tired and it was tempting to lie down for a while. Unhooking my belt and sword, I looked around. Where would I put it? I didn’t particularly relish the thought of being killed by my own sword in the middle of the night.

“Hang it on the wall facing outside. The chains don’t reach there.” His soft voice speaking those words felt strange, as if chains had nothing to do with him. Far too rough and cruel. Our evening together had showed me his nature was very much the opposite. He had been so patient and taken his time to make sure I understood his beliefs. He had listened to mine, even if I had never actually thought about religion and I couldn’t say my faith matched his in fervor. For me, it was tradition and perhaps superstition. For him, it was his life and guiding light.

I hung up the sword where he had indicated together with the pteruges and kicked off my caligae, the leather sandals that were part of our uniform. Deciding to sleep in my tunic, I hesitantly lay down beside him. He rolled over, perhaps to give me some sense of privacy, and with his back to me he fell asleep. Like the nights before, I couldn’t sleep. Now, however, the object occupying my thoughts were right beside me. The conversation tonight had done nothing to change my strange attraction to him. If anything, it had increased.

Eventually, I fell asleep too. Only to wake up hearing him whispering to me.

“It’s almost morning. You should get up.”

I could feel his breath on my ear and shivered. He apparently mistook it for being cold and drew the blanket more over me. As I opened my eyes, I realized I was curled up right under his chin, tucked against his chest. My forehead pressed against his hot skin. So soft and warm.

Shaking my head, I sat up. The sun was peaking over the horizon and I knew they would be changing the guards soon. It was time to get out. Hastily, I got my uniform and gear on. As I approached the door, I stopped and turned. I had to say something.

“See you soon.” I stammered. “I mean with breakfast.”

He smiled and nodded at me. Stumbling out of the cell, I looked both ways to make sure I wasn’t seen. Then I hurried down to the kitchen, which was still empty. I started getting breakfast together for both us guards and the prisoners, even though it wasn’t my job. Anything to keep busy and not have to think about the man in the cell. My hands were shaking and my mind was a whirl of confused thoughts. Not only from what he had told me but also my body’s strong reaction to him. This was dangerous. Very dangerous. What was I doing?

A few of my fellow guards came into the kitchen, surprised to find me there. They joked about me going missing during the night and tried to get me to reveal any and all details of my night of debauchery. I simply shook my head, but didn’t try to set them straight. Grabbing the meager food, I quickly escaped the kitchen again and headed back to his cell. I had made it. No one knew, no one even seemed to suspect. The relief was enormous, making me almost giddy. He noticed the moment I came in through the door.

“What happened? You look so happy…” He trailed off, seeming unsure. Maybe he didn’t know if he could address me in this way, now that the night was over, the spell broken by the rising of the sun.

“They missed me, but they think I snuck out. I guess it’s still a secret.”

“A secret?” He smiled a cautious smile.

“Yes, our night together…” I heard my own words and had to rephrase them. “I mean, when we slept together…” Not really better. I decided to shut up.

His smile broadened and he patted the place beside him again.

“Do you have time to talk some more?”

How could I say no? I sat down beside him and our discussion picked up again just as if a whole night hadn’t gone by.

We shared many discussions over the next days, more at night than during the more crowded hours of the day. I made sure to leave before the changing of the guards, but we still had at least a few hours every day.

We talked about our families and our lives growing up. I talked about my life as a soldier and how I now wished for something else. He spoke a lot about his god and especially his savior as he called the son of his god born by a human woman a couple of hundred years ago. To me, they represented more a religion I could believe in, with the focus on love for your neighbor and doing unto others what you would have them do for you. Not like our Roman gods who appeared to spend more time fighting among themselves then caring for us humans.

On the night before the date of his execution, the mood was very different in his cell. We were both quieter and found it hard to talk as we had during the previous nights. After searching for words for a few moments, I finally dared to ask him the question that had been on my mind since I first saw him. I asked why he had been sent to prison, not wanting to acknowledge he had been sentenced to death since that was something I for some reason still tried to deny was going to happen.

“I was a priest in my small congregation. I went against the emperor of Rome and broke his law.”

“Which law?” I was almost afraid of what he would say, even though I knew he was not a violent man. All the stories I had heard of the Christians were hard to ignore, though.

“The one forbidding soldiers to marry. It is not right to stand between people who wish to fulfill the command of our lord and join in marriage. It is not right to stand in the way of love.” He spoke with a quiet conviction that made me realize just how steadfast he was in his beliefs. “I could not turn away those seeking to be married. I wed them and blessed them in the name of our Lord.”

I released a sigh of relief over this. Marrying people wasn’t exactly the worst crime according to me, even though the emperor had found it wise to issue this particular law. At the same time, it made me angry he was sentenced over such a petty thing.

“But no one should be put to death over such a thing!”

“It was my choice. I knew the risks, knew it was dangerous to openly defy the emperor and question his power. Choosing a different path is sometimes dangerous, but I have to stand up for what I believe in. In the eyes of my god, everyone should be allowed to be married. It is not right for an earthly emperor to ban love and companionship for the purpose of war. My god says: And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

“So for you and in the eyes of your god, love should always be accepted and respected?”

He nodded. I wondered if I should dare ask him about people like me. Men like me. I didn’t know what his beliefs were. Would he be shocked? I decided I had to know.

“What about men who…” I faltered, searching for words. He touched my hand encouragingly. “Men who love other men…?”

“I’ve wed them too.” There was no hesitation to his answer.

I stared at him.

“What? How?”

“Men have come to me, asking to be joined. I see no reason not to. We are meant to live in love, to support each other. Why should some people not be allowed that? God’s plan is for us all to have companionship and comfort. No one should be condemned to walk this earth alone.”

He looked into my eyes and raised his hand. The chain attached to his shackles rattled, making him lower it again. Without thinking, I unlocked his hands. Our eyes met again and this time he put his hand on my cheek. So very softly, he traced his fingers over my face. I finally gave into what I had wanted to do all along. I let my mouth descend upon his and when they met, we both parted our lips as if we had done this many times before. It simply felt so right, so meant to happen. I put my hand on the back of his neck and our kiss deepened as our tongues explored.

Coming to my senses, I drew back and looked at him, scared of what I had done.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I wanted it as much as you, especially tonight.” He let his hand rest on my arm. The full meaning of what he said became clear to me and I was suddenly distraught, remembering tomorrow was the height of Lupercalia and he would die.

“I don’t want you to…” I didn’t even want to say the word. “I can’t let them take you!” I gripped his arms a little too hard.

He didn’t want me get upset and tried to make me calm down by stroking my cheek repeatedly. I knew I couldn’t do anything, but I could feel the panic clawing at me when I thought about the next day. His inner peace proved to be almost enough for me too.

“Let’s not talk of such things tonight. Tell me more stories of your brothers and sisters instead. Remind me of other times.” His request was impossible to deny. It also meant I could focus on something else.

That night, I decided to stay. He wanted me to be more careful, but I had to feel him next to me. That night I didn’t bother trying to keep up any pretense, but pulled him tight against me. I needed to feel him close to me, to remember how his body felt next to mine if only from this one night. Sleep didn’t come easy for either of us. We lay there in silence, until we finally drifted off.

In the morning, I wanted to make the most of those final moments and I rushed out, after giving him another kiss. I came into the kitchen and found no one. No food had been prepared and what was more puzzling was the silence and lack of movement. Confused, I wandered through the corridors out onto the street. There I saw some of my fellow guards wrestling with a hulk of a man. They saw me and shouted for me to help. I didn’t need any explanation, since their word was good enough for me. After a wrestling match that lasted surprisingly long, we got the man subdued. It turned out he had tried to steal supplies meant for the prison. I shook my head, astounded anyone could be so stupid as to try and rob the prison.

Then I suddenly remembered that I had to hurry. My focus had been shifted during the scuffle, but now I practically ran inside again to get his breakfast. I didn’t bother with fixing tea, but only grabbed some bread and fruit. The fruit was really for us guards and not the prisoners, but I wanted him to have something more on his final day. I ran back to his cell.

Coming inside, I stopped cold. It was empty. I looked around, almost not believing my eyes. Where was he? Out of the window, I saw the sun was higher than I expected. It made me realize it was later in the day than I thought. I slumped down on his blanket, sitting with my back against the wall. Inside, my mind and heart were whirling with conflicting emotion. I didn’t want him to be gone, but I knew I could do nothing about it. The loss I felt was far greater than I could ever have imagined. At the same time, I was angry with myself. How could I have been so stupid as to have let him inside my heart? Or had he in fact used some strange power over me? But wouldn’t he have made me release him if he had powers like that? I couldn’t make sense of anything and simply sat there, feeling tears burning behind my eyelids.

It struck me that I didn’t even know his name. That thought alone made me so sad. He had touched my heart and I didn’t even know his name. Angry at my own thoughtlessness, I got up and kicked the blanket across the room. Underneath, there was something hidden. A note. I bent down and picked it up. It looked like a page torn from a book. He had mentioned saving a few pages from the book he called a bible, hiding them from the guards. Even if anyone saw them, they probably wouldn’t have taken them. What harm could paper do?

I held it up and saw something written across the page. It was a strange looking brownish-red ink and I realized with a start it was probably blood. He had written something in blood. His own blood.

My friend,

When you read this, I am already gone, perhaps from this world. I am sorry to leave you when all I wish is to continue our discussions, to sit by your side.

Our time here has been brief, but you have given me more than you can ever understand. In a time of cruelty, you showed me compassion. In a time of brutality, you showed me kindness. In a time of persecution, you showed me love.

I pray I have given you a little in return.

Your Valentine

Reading his note, I knew I couldn’t let this end here. Not like this. I ran outside, not stopping even as my fellow soldiers called after me. With a newfound conviction of what I had to do, I ran across the square outside the prison to the stables. The stable boy attempted to stop me, but I pushed him aside and readied a horse as fast as I could. Mounting it, I took off down the route I knew was the common route to the execution. I pushed the horse as much as I dared, but the crowds out to celebrate the festival were making it hard to ride very fast down the streets. With building panic, I came closer and closer to the destination. Was I already too late? Then I spotted the small group consisting of an executioner, some guards and him. Valentine. My heart leapt in my chest and I spurred the horse on. Not giving my course of action much thought, I rode up to them. They looked up, not used to seeing people on horseback within the city walls. When they recognized me, they relaxed although they were still clearly puzzled.

Valentine stared at me, not understanding what this all meant. I simply held out my hand and made sure to angle my foot. He caught on quickly and grabbed my hand, placing his foot on mine and with joint force we hoisted him up on the horse behind me. With him weighing so little, it wasn’t hard to get him up.

“Hold on!” I spoke quietly, but firmly. His arms slipped around my waist and I once more spurred the horse on.

The guards hadn’t realized what was happening until it was too late. When they saw us galloping away, they started yelling. Since they had no other weapons than their swords, there wasn’t anything they could do to stop us and soon we had left them far behind. I couldn’t believe my poorly constructed plan had actually worked. We made it outside the city gates and I decided we should head north of the city, going as fast as the horse would take us. At night, we would sell the horse, find some new clothes and lose ourselves among other travelers. If we kept moving, they would have a hard time finding us. Work could be found on farms along the way. I was saddened that I couldn’t go to my sister and that it would probably be a few years until I could see her again, but I didn’t want her involved. Besides, it was a small price to pay for the man behind me being safe. With me.

“You came for me.” His lips were so closed to my ear, that his breath sent shivers down my spine.

“We never got to finish our discussion.”

He laughed softly behind me and tightened his grip around me. It felt so right.