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Jed found Octavius sitting on the second floor balcony with his long armored legs stretched in front of him. Jed took a moment to watch the light reflect off the polished metal. He wondered if Octavius knew just how strong, dashing, and hot he looked.
Then Jed noticed the pensive look on Octavius’ face. He sat Indian style next to him. He was close enough so their shoulders touched. He grinned and nodded down to Larry and Nick tossing a red disk back and forth to each other, one of the cavemen, and Atilia the Hun. “What are Gigantor and Little Gigantor doin’?”
One end of Octavius’ mouth quirked up but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “I believe it’s called playing Frisbee.”
Atilia missed the Frisbee. It hit one of his men sitting a few feet behind him. It hit the man in the forehead and fell into his lap. Atilia growled and went to snatch it from him.
Jed laughed and pushed his hat up to rest on the back of his head. “I don’t think ol’ Atilia is enjoying himself.”
“No. It isn’t a blood sport,” Octavius replied dryly.
Larry went to Atilia’s side. He stood next to him and motioned the proper way to throw the Frisbee. He nodded in encouragement and Atilia managed to throw it to Nick without using too much force and sending it into the next gallery.
“Larry is a fine father,” Octavius said quietly.
Jed openly watched Octavius’ face but the Roman’s face was neutral. “That he is. Nick’s lucky.”
Octavius didn’t take his eyes off the Frisbee players. “Do you remember your father at all?”
Jed grinned again. “I have a couple memories, but he died when I was young. My ma always said I have his eyes. He was a cowboy, same as me.” He whistled. “And he was the best damn sharpshooter you ever saw. He was a part of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.” He playfully nudged Octavius. “What about you?”
Octavius shrugged. His voice was dull. “My birth father died when I was four. My step father had absolutely no interest in me.”
Jed frowned and put an arm around Octavius’ shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
Octavius stiffened but didn’t pull away. “And my adoptive father…he was a great man. I could’ve learned much from him. My first campaign was to be in Hispania with him but I fell ill. I finally arrived after being shipwrecked, but there was nothing more to do besides the mopping up. He allowed me to ride back to Rome with him in his carriage.”
Jed let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He bit his bottom lip. “Then what happened?”
“He was stabbed twenty-three times...” Octavius’ lip curled into a sneer. “…by those he pardoned and called friend.”
“Damn,” Jed cursed softly. “That’s terrible.”
Octavius curled his hand over the pommel of his sword so hard that his knuckles turned white. “They were jealous and hated owing their lives to him. They hated that he was the better man.”
Jed pried Octavius’ fingers away and held his hand. “Cowards.”
“That’s too good a word for them. However, they didn’t survive him long.” Octavius blinked and squeezed Jed’s hand. He sighed wearily. “Rome was not a place for the weak or unlucky. One had to be hard to survive.”
“You’re here now and you’re safe.”
Octavius gave a small smile and this time it reached his eyes. “There is no other place I would rather be.”
Jed leaned in close and rested his chin on Octavius’ shoulder. “What’s brought the ghosts out tonight?”
“Do you not know the date, my friend?”
“It’s the Ides of March.” At Jed’s blank look, Octavius rolled his eyes and amended, “March 15th.”
Jed urged Octavius to lie down on his back. He lay on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “That’s the day it happened.”
Octavius finally met Jed’s compassionate gaze. “Yes. It’s a day the world has never forgotten.”
Jed thought on that for a moment. “I have my own ghosts and you know what helps me?”
Octavius arched a curious eyebrow. “What?”
“You do.” Jed nuzzled Octavius’ throat. His fingers started working on the buckles to Octavius’ breastplate. “What do you say? How about I show ya how to send those ghosts packin’?”
Octavius knocked Jed’s hat off and ran his fingers through Jed’s blonde, shaggy hair. He copied Jed’s accent. “I say less talkin’ and more showin’.”
Jed just laughed and proceeded to do just that.