The Centurion - 10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

The Prince of Ralsat

“And the prince, having fought long and hard defeated the evil witch atop the tower where she had kept the princess her prisoner. Now, just

outside the princess’s door, all Prince Ralsat had left to do was open the

door and give his princess the kiss that would break the witch’s spell.”

A line from the last chapter of the Prince of Ralsat.

The bones had been set and bandaged but the pain was still incredible. Jason, his whole body shaking with agony, prayed that the next person to enter his room would be Melissa, his mother having forgiven her. All the poor young man wanted was for everything to go back to the way things had been. But as time passed, nobody came.

Then the sound of fighting reached the top of the tower, right when the red sun began streaming onto the balcony outside Jason’s window. Hearing loud shouts outside, Jason used his arms to crawl out of bed and make his way to the open balcony, jutting out of the tower 60 feet above ground. Looking down through the railing he could see the

three dozen of his mother’s bodyguards fighting off an endless stream of creatures dressed in black and red armor. They appeared much like the burning ants found in the Desert of Flames he had seen in a picture book, only giant in size.

Jason watched as the women were quickly overwhelmed, pushed back to the tower, their escape already closed off, the thick oak door bolted shut least lest a single Centurion slip through. By dusk, the fighting outside the tower was over; the tower surrounded by what Jason assumed were the monstrous creatures known as Centurions.

Even as arrows rained down from the tower, a loud banging rang throughout the structure, the oak door rammed by a heavy plank. By the seventh strike the door broke open. It was at that moment that Jason heard his mother bursting into his room, looking ragged, with her white blond hair in total disarray. As quickly as she entered she closed and bolted the door, a gold knife in her hand.

“This is your fault, filth,” she accused her son, shaking the gold

dagger in his direction.

Scared that his mother was going to hurt him more, Jason’s body shook. “What did I do?” he asked, as the sound of the women’s screams could be heard from below.

“You are a Legatio. I see that now. If you had been a daughter none of this would have happened.”

“But I’m your son.” Jason asked confused. He did not think he was a monster.

Eleanor pushed back her long blond hair from her face with the hand holding the dagger, scratching it with the knife’s sharp tip. “You were born one of those filthy bureaucrats, you fool. I should have cut it off the moment I saw it. I ‘will’ cut it off before the Centurion’s get their hands on you! Let’s see if they want you then!” Eleanor shouted as she moved in closer to her son with the dagger.

The sound of heavy footsteps could be heard racing up the tower stairs, the clash of metal only bringing short intervals.

Seeing the sharp object approach him, Jason became filled with fear. He tried to crawl away but could only go as far as the balcony rail.

Eleanor gave her son a syrupy sweet smile as a trickle of blood fell from her scratched cheek. “Don’t worry, Jason... it will be painful, but once it’s over you will never have to worry about being a man again.”

“But if you cut me I will die.”

Just then the door to Jason’s room began to crack and buckle as

the door started to break off its hinges.

His mother burst into hysterical laughter. “We are all going

to die! They have almost broken through! I have offered them you in

return for my life but they refused. They are willing to let you die so they can get their revenge against me... curse you, you are more than worthless!”

Jason, not wanting to see what his mother was going to do to him closed his eyes waiting for his mother to strike him dead, — it never came. Instead, Jason heard a sudden whoosh pass over his head and felt something heavy fall on top of him.

Instead of the sharp pain of a dagger, Jason felt the weight of his mother’s body on top of him. Slowly opening his eyes Jason found his mother dead, an arrow in her neck. Struggling, he was able to push her off, but in doing so she became a barrier over which he could not climb. The way back into his room was blocked.

So out on the balcony he waited. As he waited to find out his

fate, there was one thing he did not understand; why was he not upset

that his mother was dead? Yes, she had often humiliated and hurt him,

but as her son he should be crying right now. The tears would not come... nor would they ever... not for his mother at least.

Hearing the remainder of the door ripped away as well as the sound of heavy armored boots, Jason shut his eyes tight while his whole body shook with terror and pain. He wished to go asleep and wake up with the events of today never happening. He wanted Melissa back.

At first the Centurions did not notice Jason, only seeing the corpse of the regent, the target of several crossbow bolts, but once they saw the young man, bearded and in a woman’s dress alive under her, they all began to laugh.

“I can’t believe it... he is alive,” one of the men in armor chuckled.

Another moved in closer and took the old gold dagger out of the dead Regent’s hand. “Seems like he wasn’t going to be for long.”

“It looks like her ladyship was out to get him with Agamemnon’s own knife,” another agreed eying the blade.

“Come along, little fellow... you started this war so you should al least open your eyes to see your rescuers,” the first armored man said, his voice a warm and friendly baritone. Slowly Jason opened his eyes, and to his disappointment, the

“Centurions” did not look much different then his mother’s bodyguards

except for the small masks covering their mouths and the black and red color of their armor.

“There, now I can see those beautiful green eyes of yours,” the Centurion said cheerfully. “Can you stand up?

“I can’t,” Jason said embarrassed. He was surprised that he didn’t feel any fear towards these metal giants. There was something in the “man’s” voice that he found even calming.

“Why can’t you get up?” the man asked as he began to work off

his mask.

“My legs... they’re broken,” Jason admitted.

“Now are you going to tell me how that happened, little fellow?” the man said as he removed his mask and his face was finally revealed.

Jason looked, amazed at the face in front of him. It looked rougher, stronger than any he could remember. The “man” had dark blond hair, cut short and gray eyes that sparkled. His skin was deeply tanned while his mouth had such a friendly wide smile that it made Jason feel warm inside. Suddenly the young man was filled with an urge to be held.

“You alright, little fellow?” the man asked when Jason didn’t respond right away.

“Centurion...” Jason whispered.

“That’s right, I’m a Centurion, and you are a Legatio.”

Confused, Jason had to ask, “A Legatio...?”

“Our envoys, ambassadors, poets, and historians, and most importantly our children. You have never been told this?”

“No... I don’t even know what a ‘Centurion’ is.”

“Hahahahaha... well, I’m a Centurion and you’re a Legatio.”

“I know... mother told me before she... before you... killed her. But I still don’t understand,” Jason said with tears running down his face.

“I’m sorry, little fellow, but people die in war. Tell me, what is your name or would you like me to keep on calling you little fellow.”

Jason giggled. The Centurion was the most warm and openly friendly person he had ever met. It was a great relief to see that the nightmares his mother had planted in him were not all true . “My name is Jason, son of Daslan of Qul Tos, son of Elanor OF Tal Sith, prince of all Tosians but I don’t mind being calling a little fellow. As I am shortest person I have ever come across its more honest name than that of my title..”

The man reached down and tousled Jason’s long unkempt hair. “Well, I like Jason better. So tell me, Jason, why are your legs broken?”

“Punishment,” Jason replied nervously looking down to the ground at his dead mother in shame, afraid that the Centurion would hate him if he learned what filth he was.

“Punishment?” the friendly man asked concerned.

“I tried to run away with Melissa, so my mother broke my legs. That way I would be a good person because I would not be able to do that again.”

“I’m sorry, Jason. Things must have been very hard for you here,” the Centurion said sadly.

Jason did not understand that comment, how it could be hard, the tower and his mother was all he knew. “Hard?” “Well, Jason, you know that we will not hurt you.” “Yes...” Jason replied, knowing for some reason that what the

man said was true.

“I’m going to lift you up now and carry you to your bed. Is that

alright?” “Yes...” Jason agreed eagerly, he wanted so much to be held

after all that had happened today. “Are you the Prince of Ralsat?”

“The prince of what?” The Centurion chuckled as he held the young man close to his towering frame.

“I wish you were...” Jason said disappointed. For a brief moment he thought that his favorite story was coming to life, that the Centurion was really the Prince of Ralsat, coming to save him.

The Centurion raised Jason’s bearded face up to his own clean shaven one and nuzzled against him. Jason responded by quickly wrapped his thin arms around the warrior’s neck, hugging him tightly as fresh tears fell down onto the man’s armor.

For a long moment the Centurion just rocked the young man

in his arms, trying his best to comfort him. After Jason’s sobbing died

down, he placed him on the bed, allowing the other warriors to see the condition Jason was in, bearded with hair that went halfway down his

back and dressed in a gray woman’s outfit.

“Don’t a single one of you dare laugh,” the unmasked Centurion warned. “Yes commander,” all of the others barked as one, snapping to attention

“First, get rid of this corpse. I think there is a head we promised to put on a pike,” the Centurion started ordering. “I want the Famulus, Jonathan, brought here... it is about time he met his master. Tell him I have a young man who needs a haircut and shave. He will also need to bring one of my old uniforms. It will be too large but he has always been handy with a needle and thread. Also bring up some warm food. Finally, one of you needs to go tell General Darius that Agamemnon’s son is alive.

“Yes sir...” the men saluted, right fists over their chests before

turning around and leaving.

“That will take them awhile.” The Centurion grinned. “We’ve not even had time to set up camp yet. Since we learned of the secret to the Labyrinth we have been on the move.”

Feeling guilty, Jason turned his head away from the man. “I am sorry.”

“Do not worry about it. I’ve lasted over a week with no sleep or food. But I have to admit I am tired.” The man grinned as he stretched out in his armor.

“What is your name?” Jason asked, wondering if “Centurions” even had names.

The Centurion snapped his armored legs together producing a metallic ring, his right fist hitting the steel plate over his heart with a clang. “My name is Commander of the 5th unit seventh legion in the service of the great Domus Empire, mightiest of all nations. C-5-7 for short.”

“That can’t be your real name,” Jason laughed. Given

“It is my professional name. If you want my birth name you have to promise me something.”

“What is that?” Jason asked, curious.

The man gave Jason a wide grin. “You have to promise to never call me C-5-7.”

“Deal!” Jason readily agreed.

“Good... I think we will get along fine then. My name is Philip

Helios, but I would prefer it if you just called me Philip.”

“Alright... Philip.” Jason grinned.

Philip gave his body a sniff and wrinkled his nose. “Gosh I hate this armor... do you mind if I take it off.”

“No.” Jason smiled. He was very curious to see what Philip looked like underneath all that metal, unsure if he was indeed a “man”.

It took awhile for the Centurion Commander to undo all the

leather straps and metal clasps, but Philip, with dexterous finger’s made relative fast work of it. In ten minutes he had the heavy plate

mail and chain greaves off. That only left only the thick white padded

shirt and leggings underneath.

It was at that moment that a man dressed in a long black robe came in. Jason was able to take his wide stare away from Philip’s undressing long enough to say hello to the gray-haired man. The man, however, acted like he didn’t hear the prince. Instead he went down on his knees and bowed his head to the Centurion.

Once Philip finished pulling off his padding Jason eyes went wide, focusing on the broad-shouldered “man”, his chest covered with a dark blond fuzz in deep contrast to his dark skin, that narrowed into a small trail toward his loincloth. Jason still did not know if he was a man... for the Centurion was nothing like anything he had ever seen in his life... and it excited him.

Philip, stretched out his body in front of Jason, knowing very

well what effect it was having on the young man. He wanted to show

the prince there was nothing to fear from a man’s body.

Finally, however, the Centurion turned and acted with bemused surprise on seeing the Famulus on the ground before him. “You may get up, Jonathan, and meet your master.”

“Yes Commander.”

“Jason, I would like you to meet a Famulus – your Famulus. Do you know what a Famulus is?”

“A slave?” Jason asked uncertainly. There was so much his mother had told him that he was now finding to be untrue.

“You Tosians might call him a slave but your Famulus is more akin to being a servant as well as a companion. Right now he’s here to cut your hair and shave your face and fit you into some of my old clothes. Then we will see the fine young man that the son of Agamemnon has grown into,” the Centurion said, trying hard to remain cheerful while his urge was to kill... kill any of the female prisoners for what they had allowed done to the thin frail boy... clearly starving for both food and love.

That look of anger did not remain hidden long from Jason, who looked as if he were about to cry from it. For Philip to look so angry and to talk about cutting his hair, something that would never be allowed while Melissa had watched over him... least he be cut. “But... I thought you... you were my...” his lips quivered.

“Why... do you even think I could hurt you?” Philip asked, his anger replaced by curiosity and no little concern as he lifted the young

man back into his arms and rocked him gently while Jason’s tears ran down his bull-like neck and chest.

Jason looked at the sharp pair of scissors Jonathan had in his hands and gulped. “My mother said if I was ever cut I would die.”

“Trust me, it would take something more serious than a razor cut to kill you. Still, I promise you Jonathan is an expert. He’s not cut me in over a year,” Philip said encouragingly, trying his best not to laugh at Jason’s fears.

“Alright,” Jason said with a weak smile. He still felt apprehensive.

Philip, now out of his armor, carried Jason over to one of the chairs and left him in Jonathan’s care while he continued to undress. It turned out to be a good distraction for Jason. Instead of worrying about what Jonathan was doing with his razor he watched Philip’s body move and flex as he worked off the remainder of his clothing.

It was while Philip’s back was turned to him that Jason noticed strange markings on both of Philip’s shoulders. “What are those marks?”

“On my back?” Philip chuckled as he moved closer so Jason could get a good look at them. “They show my life marks.”

“Oh...?” Jason said, still not understanding.

“You see the ones on the left deal with my accomplishments; while the ones on the right show my deaths... or better said the men I have killed.”

Jason saw that both shoulder blades were filled with marks. “You’ve killed a lot of people?” he asked nervously.

“Yes I have... I’m a Centurion. That is what we Centurions do.”

Jason tried to count how many tally marks were on the right shoulder but gave up after 102. So instead he went back to looking at the left shoulder. There, the marks were more elaborate, and while they were fewer they were also larger. “What do the left marks show?” Jason asked while Jonathan clipped away at his hair.

“Well, the first one celebrates the day I was circumcised.”

“Circumcised?” “Let me show you.” Philip laughed as he turned around to face Jason. By this time all he had on was his loin cloth. Letting it to fall to the floor, he turned around to face Jason, his manhood hanging loose.

“You see?” Jason was taken aback by what he saw, standing in front of him was the strongest person he had ever seen. Then there was Philip’s manhood... surrounded by a trimmed bush of dark hair.

“Yes...” Jason said as he felt something stir inside him.

“Don’t you notice that it looks different than yours?” “A little... it is larger than mine.”

“Yes, but look at the head,” Philip said as he took hold of his sex and moved in closer to Jason.

“It looks funny?” Jason asked, unsure.

Philip pulled on the short skin, looking down on it with pride. “My foreskin is shorter than yours because mine was cut off.”

“Why did you do that?” Jason asked, confused, sure that it had to have hurt.

“Tradition... to show that we are men and can handle pain among other things.”

“It must have been painful.”

“Trust me it was... but I survived.” Philip grinned, not yet ready to tell Jason the celebration that happens after a circumcision.

“Will I have to do the same?” Jason asked nervously.

“Oh no... the Legatio do not undergo the ceremony,” Philip said as he turned back around so only his back was facing Jason.

“So what do the other marks mean?” Jason asked.

“Well, one of them shows the first time I held a sword, another, my mastery of the double blade. Another one tells about my first time I bedded a man, I don’t have one for being with a woman. The largest one in the center celebrates my acceptance into the seventh legion. So the only ones missing are my wedding, bonding, parenthood, and death, but that last one will go on my skull.”

“What did you mean by being with a man?” Jason asked, confused.

“Well... have sex with him.”

Jason knew that he should know what Philip was talking about but he just didn’t understand. “What is sex?”

“You mean you don’t know what sex is?” Philip asked, flabbergasted.

“No...” Jason replied, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t feel bad, Jason. You’ve lived most of your life locked up in this tower with only your mother and her bodyguards for company. You’ve not been with your own people.”

“My own people?” “Yes... us Centurions and Legatio. You were supposed to have

joined us at age five, but your mother refused and killed your father.

That is what caused this war,” Philip explained.

Learning this upset Jason greatly. “Then my mother was right... the war was my fault.”

Seeing tears growing in the boy’s eyes, Philip turned back around and put a strong, comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “No it was not, Jason. The war and all its death was your mother’s fault, not yours... Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” Jason said half-heartedly as he tried to wipe his tears away while he leaned his head on Philip’s arm.

“Good. I know that all these things are new to you so I will try to ease you into it slowly,” Philip said sympathetically as he lay down on Jason’s bed, curled up so as to fit on the small mattress and fell asleep.

Jason nodded. So many things were changing that he felt as if reality had turned upside down.