The Lycian Prince 62

(October 291 A.D. – 5 months until Anthonius’ nullification [?])

The first hero was the kind Arab. He immediately climbed the gangplank of the Nubian galley, quiet because everyone was sleeping-in after the festive activities of the previous night. The Arab saw the somnolent black crewman who was supposed to be guarding Anthonius. He awakened the sailor, who slowly regained his feet in puzzlement. “For the boy,” the Arab whispered and proffered the man a small bag.

The crewman opened the bag and saw enough gold coinage inside to match at least twenty years’ wages. He immediately helped the Arab lower the semi-conscious, deeply traumatised and moaning Anthonius on to the deck from his suspended bondage. The Arab was as disgusted to see the brands all over the boy’s beautiful body as Impheli and his master had been delighted, all having previously only seen the lad display two eagles on his front thighs and a circlet of snakes around his navel.

The Arab was also shocked to see the appalling evidence of Anthonius’ more recent mistreatment. He decided that he had to be cruel to be kind and, after unbinding the boy and telling the crewman to prevent the lad from collapsing onto the deck, withdrew his ornate scimitar from his equally opulent scabbard. The Arab used the razor-sharp weapon to cut the leather tube that had introduced water into the former Prince. After allowing the liquid to empty from the young ravaged anus, he pulled the cruel expandable dildo out carefully but without ceremony. The Arab also did the same to the evil needles, throwing them onto the deck, before lifting the tortured nude victim, newly 15 years old, over his shoulder.

The Arab was a strong robust man and Anthonius’ weight caused him no trouble at all. He and the happy crewman disembarked, the latter to use his unexpected new riches to find a better life for himself in the great Egyptian metropolis. The Arab’s pretty son, a little younger than the boy his father was carrying, waited for them on the quayside, unsurprised that his parent had decided to rescue someone in distress.

The kind Arab had used well Diocletian’s large reward for his original rescue of Anthonius from north African torment, expanding his trading operations lucratively in the intervening ten months. His specialism, spices from distant lands, much prized by the Egyptians and others within the Empire, was quickly helping to make him one of Alexandria’s richest men. The bag of gold that he was carrying was to pay the captain of another ship for the import of more such precious cargo, a transaction that could now be concluded later in the day once his new young guest was safe and on the mend.

Ebana was naturally apoplectic at learning of Anthonius’ disappearance. The King could not make up his mind whether the missing sailor was involved or had fled in terror when he discovered, presumably after falling asleep, that his charge had gone. He sent the remaining crewmen out to scour the Egyptian capital for the boy and to investigate who could have been responsible for aiding the escapee but they enjoyed no success.

Ebana began to fear for his trading relationship with the Empire once Diocletian found out that Anthonius had escaped his destiny. The loss of the white boy harem, which was to be despatched to Nubia by the Emperor when the former Prince’s penis was returned to him, was now the last of the King’s worries. The failure of his expedition to Rome could easily see him bloodily deposed. The monarch knew that he could not leave Alexandria until the lad was returned.

“This is the second time that I’ve worn your tunics,” Anthonius announced as he removed the expensive garment to reveal his wonderful body in complete nakedness before the kind Arab’s son. He was lying on a huge bed in one of the luxurious guestrooms of the wealthy trader’s splendid villa, in the western suburbs of Alexandria. There was a magnificent view of the sea through the window. “I know,” replied 14 years old Hron, who had taken on the task of aiding the 15 years old’s recovery himself, “father told me what happened ten months ago. It did after all change our lives. Until then, we were a good proud family but now we are also a wealthy one. We’ll forever be grateful to you for that!”

Anthonius had overcome initial shyness at being undressed in front of Hron during the four days that he had spent here. He had instead become accustomed to the twice-daily application of salve that the young Arab, kneeling next to him on the bed, would apply to the healing needle marks and rectum. However, the former Prince, initial distress dissipated, was now concerned that the administrations might bring fresh embarrassment when he found himself becoming hard as his host’s lightly tanned, dark-haired dark-eyed son gently rubbed the cream onto some of the most sexually sensitive parts of his anatomy.

At first, Hron politely pretended not to notice, although the feel and sight of his lovely patient’s excitement caused his own cock to grow. The 14 years old, instinctively inquisitive, instead bombarded the 15 years old with questions. He insisted on being told the former Prince’s life story, often interrupting to ask secondary points. However, he interrogated the guest sympathetically, showing genuine horror and sadness at all the, now many, bad bits of the verbal autobiography and the narrator found himself happy to relate the melancholic tale, finding it therapeutic to share his history with someone. The subject was to be the main topic of their long conversations for a few more days yet.

Hron showed particular interest in the accounts of how Anthonius acquired his rings and brands, and the 15 years old agreed to tolerate the intensely curious14 years old’s close examination of all of them. However, the intimate inspection, especially of the cockring, caused the small eagle displayed on the skin just above the former Prince’s genitals to become partially hidden by a rampant erection pointing upwards to the navel.

Hron smiled at the wonderful vision and, to the blushing Anthonius’ astonishment, could not resist pulling his own tunic above his head and throwing it to the floor, where it was quickly joined by the boy’s undergarment. The 15 years old saw that the 14 years old exhibited a similar hard-on.

“I hope you don’t mind,” declared Hron, “but I didn’t want you to be ashamed of your excitement. As you can see, I’m rather aroused as well!” A 15 years old hand soon reached for the rigid 14 years old member, gently pulling to encourage its pretty owner to lie next to him on the huge bed. The duo did not emerge from the guestroom for several hours and, for once, chatter was missing, replaced with quiet pleasurable groans. For Anthonius, the experience was more restorative than the salves.

The second hero was Anthonius for four days later, having already said goodbye to the sombre but understanding kind Arab, he was now doing so to his new lover, the man’s son. “Don’t do this, Anthonius,” begged a sobbing Hron, “you’re safe with us and I’m sure that Diocletian won’t harm your mother and sister.” “As I’ve said many times,” answered the former Prince quietly, patiently and sadly, “I’m not at all sure and I just can’t take the risk.”

The two boys had argued fiercely for two days over Anthonius’ shocking declaration of intent but Hron, even with the assistance of his father, had been unable to dissuade the determined lad. Anthonius looked into Hron’s gorgeous tear-stained eyes one last time before kissing his friend. The former Prince, wearing nothing underneath, then removed his tunic and returned the garment to its owner before walking naked up the gangplank onto Ebana’s galley.

Within days of the ship sailing, both the obese Arab and his young black eunuch were found murdered, throats cut, in their shared bedchamber, a crime for which no-one was brought to justice. There had been a limit to the kind Arab’s generosity towards his fellow humans. Unfortunately, it would be a long time before the avenger discovered that Anthonius’ selfless sacrifice on the Alexandrian wharf had not been needed as Queen Irene and Princess Anthonia had already been spirited to safety.

The third hero was Hron and not just because he helped Anthonius to recover fully from his earlier ordeal at Impheli’s hands through literal loving tender care. Hron is generally known to history as Hero of Alexandria, great thinker, mathematician and scientist, responsible for many worthy philosophies, discoveries and inventions that have passed down to the modern age. Amongst his accomplishments were geometrical formulae, such as that for the area of a triangle, and many contrivances operated by water, steam and compressed air, such as spectacular fountains, siphon systems and the first practicable fire engine. A device in which recoil of steam revolves a ball or wheel has been described as the first working steam engine.

Hron’s writings, all in Greek, include a record of the thoughts of other philosophers. However, the Arab also wanted to document a testament of thanks for the display of courage that had inspired him to try to contribute positively to the world. Few know that Hron’s works additionally comprise Anthonius’ history, as related by the boy himself and chronicled in his native tongue.

(To be continued in chapter 63 – ‘Nile’)

Historical note:-

Dates for the life of Hero (Heron or Hron) vary between the third century B.C. and the third century A.D.. There is also conjecture as to his race. My own research leads me to believe that the latter part of this period is correct and that the great man was Arab. A bibliography, relating to various parts of ‘The Lycian Prince’ and to some of its characters, will be available from the author for any readers interested once the tale is concluded.