Survivors 3-2

[aurelius]

Survivors 3-2: 46-50

 

46

 

Once again the three of us were up on deck.  Masud said that Xander and Abari needed some rest after their milking.  I loved being able to stand in the bow of the ship and feel the wind off the sea blowing through my hair.

 

Xander was having some difficulty figuring out how he felt about his cousin.  “Why would he do that to me?”

 

“After he sucked your cock and got big, he couldn’t keep himself from telling his buddies.  I checked with Aristeas: he reported that several young men at the banquet mentioned Eteocles sucking your cock and then getting bigger.  So, instead of you being a beloved cousin, Eteocles saw you as a way of gaining favor with his buddies and the Warnax.  Some cousin!”

 

That remark stung Xander.  He so wanted to love his cousin and his family.  I was being too blunt, but I couldn’t help myself.  Eteocles betrayed him: “Look, Xander, I know how much finding your family meant to you.  But they’re just people.  Your aunt and uncle were nice to all of us, but your cousin couldn’t just love you as a cousin.  He had to become more like you—and when he got big, all his buddies wanted your cum.  And so you became a cum-cow.”

 

“Ouch!” Xander said. “Can’t you leave me some fond memories?”  Abari looked at me hard: he also thought I was being cruel.

 

“OK,” I said. “Some of this is probably me being jealous that you actually found your family—and I’m wanting you to put them behind you and come back to your other family—us!”  I put my arm around Abari, and then I stood in front of Xander’s face.  “And our fathers and Zuberi and Garin and Lateef.  WE are your family, and we will never betray you!”  I was on the edge of tears.  Abari could see it, and he gave a me little hug.  He turned to Xander and said, “Jabar is having a nightmare—he was like this after the first invasion.  He doesn’t know he’s having a nightmare; it just sneaks up on him.  But he’s right: we love you more than Eteocles.  He may share your blood, but we are your family.”

 

Abari was calm but he spoke from the heart.  Xander’s eyes welled up and he surrounded both of us with his muscular arms.  Then he kissed both of us and said, “Thank you.  I wanted my dream to be real, but you are my real family.  I could not ask for better.”  We all three cried as the sea wind washed over us.

 

But in the afternoon of our first day sailing to Mycenae, we were back manning the oars.  Xander and Abari didn’t seem to be that tired—they got right back into the job, and once again, the coxswain yelled at them for going too fast.  And once again, Xander and Abari smiled at each other.  In such small things a family lives.

 

We could almost always see the coast of Greece to our left.  For a couple of hours we would be further away from the coast, but it would come back into view.  But the next day, when we turned left, we were still following the coast.  We were going north to the bigger city of Mycenae.  Masud had been there a few times.   He was carrying a couple of basins of necklaces—thunderbolts and dolphins—to barter for beds and rope and other things.  And maybe, he said—if Xander and Abari wanted to—they could wrestle with some more Greeks.

 

But we didn’t dock at Mycenae; we docked at the port: Kalamianos.  There were a lot of ships in the harbor; about half looked commercial, but the other half looked military, with the same markings on their sails.  Mycenae was a ways from the port, perched up on a hill.  You couldn’t see the city walls from the port, but there were Mycenaen soldiers marching through the port every now and then.

 

As at Pylos, we wore loincloths and sandals.  Masud took the three of us aside:  “I know you’ll want to explore, and I can’t stop you.  But you need to be careful.  This is one of the busiest ports anywhere—you can find all sorts of things to trade, to see, to do.   And you can find all sorts of scoundrels.  I have my own stall where I bring our necklaces and trade.  I want you to know where it is.  I’ll be there all day.  If you get in trouble, make your way back to my little stall.  Several of my crew will be there, too.  Do you understand?”  We all nodded.

 

Masud was right: the port was crowded and full of people.   We could see some signs that Masud had been here: thunderbolt necklaces on the Mycenaean soldiers. There were stalls everywhere, men trading pottery and silk, rope and wine—even exotic birds in wooden cages.  We went with Masud and some his men and found his stall.  I looked around to notice other stalls, so we could find out way back.  I tried to take a mental picture.  But we all three wanted to explore.

 

Besides the many different things being traded, there were tests of skill and tests of strength.  Abari wanted to try a test of strength—lifting up a big block of stone—probably one of those ‘Cyclops” blocks I had heard made up the walls of Mycenae.  And he was able to lift it!  He won a little silver necklace.  It was too little for his big neck, so it became a bracelet.  But he also won a lot of attention: some soldiers came by and wanted to take him away.  Xander and I intervened and said “Egyptian” several times.  The soldiers seemed determined to take Abari away, so Xander then took a very threatening stance—as did I, but I’m sure I wasn’t as threatening—as if to say that they would have to fight us off.  One soldier rushed toward Xander—and Xander hit him and put him on his back.  Another soldier did the same thing with the same result.  The other two soldiers let Abari go.

 

Of course, Abari was relieved and thankful: “I think you guys just saved me from being a slave again!”  I kissed him and said, “I think you’re right!”

 

But someone else came up to us and pointed us toward an open area on the other side of some stalls.  There was a big, greasy-looking fat guy there, and he was “wrestling” a smaller man.  But it wasn’t really wrestling.  The greasy fat guy was bending the other man’s fingers.  The other man gave up and the greasy fat guy walked around the open area as if he had done something.  The little man who pointed us in this direction went over to a fancy well-dressed man with long black curls, bright earrings and a yellow and red robe.  Then he pointed toward us.  Toward Xander.  The fancy man came over to Xander, looked him up and down, and opened his robe to reveal a gold necklace.  Then he gestured toward the greasy fat guy.

 

I took Xander aside for a minute: “You know this isn’t wrestling.  This greasy fat guy is just a bully.  There’s no skill involved.  He’ll try to break your fingers.  So you should go for his legs as fast as you can.”  Xander nodded.  “But I don’t see any other wrestlers.  Maybe if I beat this guy, some real wrestlers will show up.”  So he stepped into the open area.

 

The greasy fat guy looked Xander up and down; he punched his big chest and then grabbed his thick arm.  Xander knocked his hand off.  He looked toward the fancy man.  But there was no signal to start.  The greasy fat guy simply started for Xander’s hands.  

 

Xander went into a wrestler’s crouch.  So did the greasy fat guy.  They circled each other. Then Xander swooped down and grabbed the greasy man’s leg.  And suddenly the greasy man was trying to balance himself while also trying to grab Xander’s hand.  It didn’t work.  Xander’s hands were safely locked on the greasy man’s legs—and lifting the fat guy up into the air!

 

People cheered.  I suppose they had seen the greasy fat guy bully so many men, it was a treat to see him in trouble.  Xander then threw the greasy fat guy down to the ground.  I could swear he landed with a splat!

 

As the greasy fat man struggled to get to his feet, the fancy man came over and raised Xander’s arm.  Then he made a show of taking the gold chain from his robe and trying to put it on Xander’s neck.  Of course it wouldn’t fit.  So Xander had a gold bracelet to match Abari’s silver one.

 

 

 

47

 

But then a couple of young men who looked to be wearing soldier’s tunics came over to Xander.  Abari and I quickly came to stand by Xander’s side.  Were we going to have to fight off some more Mycenaean soldiers?  They said some words, but Xander said, “Egyptian.”  One of the soldiers smiled and said, “I know some Egyptian.”  He was a pretty young man, but he had some muscle; I didn’t want to fight him and spoil his pretty face.  But he turned to Xander and said, stopping and starting a couple times, “We see you have skill.  This man”—here he made a face and swept his hand away—“was no wrestler; just bully.  We would like to wrestle with you.  Can you come with us?”  I immediately said, “Where?  Are you going to make us slaves?”

 

The pretty man looked shocked.  “No; not that.  Never.  We like wrestle.  You good wrestler.  Come with?”  I repeated, ‘Where?”

 

The pretty man looked at Xander and said, “Your friend does not trust me.”  

 

Xander said, “Some soldiers tried to enslave our Nubian friend just a few minutes ago.”  He gestured to Abari.

 

“I am sorry for that,” said the pretty man.  “We only want wrestle.”  He came over to Xander, smiled and said, “I want wrestle you.  I promise you are safe.  And you will want to come with me.”

 

So we went with him.  He led us outside the town to a field near a military encampment.  Xander, Abari and I looked at each other and hesitated.  The pretty man noticed and said, “We are soldiers, but we only want wrestle.”  Still, we stopped a ways from the encampment.  The pretty man nodded; then he went toward the encampment with his friend.

 

They soon came back with three other good-looking, fairly muscular men.  One of them was big, with as much fat as muscle.  He came toward Xander and stripped.  Xander stripped.  A couple men nodded to Xander’s big cock and then nodded to each other.

 

The big guy was a pretty good wrestler.  Xander had his hands full for a couple of minutes.  But the big guy wasn’t as fast as Xander and soon Xander had his leg up and he became unbalanced and found himself on his back.  Xander offered his hand to help him up; the big man took his hand, got up and embraced Xander and patted him on his back.

 

Next, the pretty man wanted to wrestle.  He stripped, and his cock was nearly as big as Xander’s.  Xander smiled and nodded to Abari, who was also smiling.  And the pretty man had good, fast moves.  He went for Xander’s leg but he didn’t have the strength to lift Xander up.  So, Xander simply put his arms around the pretty man’s pretty body and lifted him over his back.  The pretty man laughed and tapped Xander’s back.  Xander put him down; the pretty man embraced and kissed Xander and patted him on his back.

 

But then a new man emerged from the encampment.  He was nearly as big as Xander, and he had a short beard.  But the closer he got to the rest of us, the more my jaw dropped open.  The pretty man looked at Xander and said, “I told you you would want to come with me!”

 

As the new, bearded man came closer, both Abari and I moved closer to him; so did Xander.  Everything about the new man seemed to echo Xander: they were the same height; they had the same build, though Xander was more muscular.  I kept trying to imagine the new man without a beard—but every time I did, I could only see Xander.  And when the new man stripped, his cock was as long as Xander’s.

 

The new man took a wrestler’s crouch.  If he was as stunned by Xander’s appearance as we were by his, the new man didn’t show it.  He wanted to wrestle.  Xander looked at us, shrugged and took his stance.

 

Watching them wrestle was like watching an echo in two bodies.  Every move Xander made, the new man knew, understood, and knew how to counter it.  Every move the new man made, Xander knew, understood and knew how to counter.  His muscles were a little bigger, so sometimes Xander used sheer force to get more of an advantage, but his advantage didn’t last long, since the new man knew just where Xander was going with his move and was able to come up with a move to counteract it.  

 

After a while, their wrestling became almost comic: they were so evenly matched, they knew each other’s moves, that all of us watching started to smile, then chuckle.  Eventually the pretty man stopped it: ‘This is draw.  You both too good!”  And then he said the same thing, I guessed, in Greek.  Both Xander and the new man broke their holds and stepped back from each other.  And they both broke into smiles and then embraced each other.  

 

Xander couldn’t contain himself: “Who are you?  Where do you come from?”  The new man was saying something in Greek. The pretty man walked between them and said, “He say same thing you say!”—first in Egyptian to Xander, and then in Greek to the new man.

 

The pretty man wanted everyone to sit down, so we did.  I gave the water jug to Xander.  Someone on the Greek side gave the new man a water jug.  He held his up; Xander held up our water jug and said, “To your health!”  The new man said something and the pretty man said, “He say same thing.”

 

I looked at the pretty man and said, “How is it that these two men look so alike?”

 

He said, “Where was your friend born?”

 

“Near Pylos,” Xander said.

 

The pretty man spoke to the new man who soon said, “Pylos.”  Then he said something in Greek.  The pretty man said, “He wants to know what happened to you when you were little.”

 

Xander said, “I was stolen from my parents and sold as a slave to a commercial ship.  I was a fuck boy and water boy until I escaped with a Nubian friend and we were rescued by a muscular barbarian on an island.”  The pretty man tried to repeat the whole thing, but he stumbled a few times, so I wasn’t sure if the information got through.  But enough did that the new man pointed to his chest, nodded and enthusiastically said something in Greek.  The pretty man said, “The same thing happened to him—stolen when young; made a slave.”  The new man continued and the pretty man translated: “but he was sold to Mycenae navy.  He was fuck boy then water boy; then someone in army adopted him and he has been in army since then.”

 

The big wrestler leaned over to the pretty man and said something.  I looked at the pretty man and said, “What was that?”

 

“He thinks we need see the seer.  He lives in cave near here.”  He thought a minute.  “Maybe he can help our friends find out if they are brothers.”

 

 

48

 

I told Xander what the pretty man said.  He shrugged and said, “Well, if it helps me figure out who this guy is to me, I’m game.”  I liked that Xander was not as starry-eyed as he had been when meeting Eteocles.  We all got up, put on our loincloths while the soldiers put their tunics back on.  Then we walked down the hill to another hill and down into a steep ravine with a cave at one end.

 

The big man, the pretty man and the new man talked outside the cave.  The pretty man came over to us: “We think best thing is for your man and our man to go into cave together.  They both strong.  We will be behind them.”  Xander nodded.  Then he and the new man walked into the cave. 

 

I made sure to be as close behind Xander as I could.  The cave was dim, but there was enough light coming in from outside that we could see a few things.  Dead birds hung along the wall; and the skins of other animals—squirrels, a fox—were nailed on the walls.  A low fire burned in a stone pit.  A white-bearded man in a long, dirty-white tunic came forward.  He walked with a staff in his hand and kept one hand in front of him, like he was blind.

 

He placed his hand on the new man’s face and said some words.  The new man collapsed to the cave floor.  Then the old man did the same to Xander and Xander collapsed to the floor.  Alarmed, I knelt down by his side.  The old man spoke in perfect Egyptian: “He is just sleeping.  Your friend and his new friend need to remember a very painful time when they were both young.  I can tell you what they need to remember, but they need to see it again in their minds.”  Then the old man spoke to the Greeks for a while; I guessed he was saying the same thing to them.

 

While the two slept, the old man went to the cave wall and took down what looked to be a bunch of herbs.  He went over to the fire and lit the herbs.  The cave filled up with a pleasant smell.  The old man came over to the two athletes, waved the burning herbs over their sleeping bodies, and said some words in Greek and then in Egyptian:  “Sleep, young men.  Go back to your childhood; go back to that painful day when you lost your parents.  Go back, learn and be strong.”  He said this three times—both in Greek and then in Egyptian.  It was like he was talking to Xander and the new man, or chanting a spell to help them remember. 

 

After the chant was over, the old man put the rest of the herbs in the fire and then knelt down between the new man and Xander.  He caressed the new man’s face and spoke softly to him.  I thought I heard the name “Demetrios”.  The new man stirred.  Then the old man caressed Xander’s face and some softly to him: “Awaken, Xander, and reunite with your brother.”  Xander stirred awake.

 

When Xander and the new man looked at each other, they were immediately in each other’s arms, crying and kissing each other.  And they couldn’t stop kissing each other’s face, shoulder, chest, hands, and crying all the time.  They would break, put their hands on each other’s shoulders and look at each other—and then they were once again kissing each other and crying.  Abari and I were in tears.  The Greeks were also in tears.  

 

Once the kissing and crying lessened, the old man stood up and said, “These two men are twins.  They were stolen from thier parents when they were very young.  They had to go back, in their memories, and re-live that painful moment before they could remember that they were twins.  They had lost so much that they covered it up and made new lives.  But when they saw each other, they knew there was more between them.”  And then he said, I guessed, the same thing in Greek.

 

I don’t think Xander cared.  All he wanted to do was hold his brother, kiss him, and hold him some more.  I looked at Abari and whispered, “This is wonderful, but will we ever get him home?”  Abari whispered to me: “Should we?  Or should we leave him with his brother?”

 

Eventually, Xander and his brother, Demetrios, stood up.  They hugged and thanked the old man again and again.  The old man smiled and kissed Demetrios  and then kissed Xander.  He said something in Greek which the pretty man translated for us: “He say he glad to help.”

 

Demetrios’ friends wanted to throw a party, a feast.  They wanted to take Xander and us back to their encampment and tell the story to their fellow soldiers, while they all drank and ate.  And since Demetrios had his arm around Xander’s shoulders, and Xander had his arm around Demetrios’ shoulders, Abari and I simply went along.  I was glad that Masud said that he would be in Kalamianos for a couple days.

 

And yet, and yet—I wanted Xander to come home with us.  I didn’t want to lose my brother; I didn’t want to have to tell Zuberi that Xander had found his long lost twin brother and had decided to stay in Greece.  And I certainly didn’t want to tell that news to my Dad—it would break his heart.

 

I whispered these thoughts to Abari.  He was quiet for a minute or stand the he said, “We need to wait.  We can’t force Xander to come home.  He needs to want to hear you.”  And suddenly I had a new respect for the insight and intelligence of my “little” brother.  “Thank you, Abari!  I was thinking too far in the future. I’m glad you are thinking about right now.”

 

 

49

 

One of the best things about the party was learning names.  The pretty man was Leander; the big guy who was his friend was Konon; and when we sat down for the party, an officer sat down next to me—and Chilon knew Egyptian better than Leander.   So he was able to translate almost immediately what was being said.

 

Chilon turned to me: “Did Xander know he had a twin brother?”

 

“No, but he has always had a strong desire to return to Greece.  We met his cousin in Pyos—but that didn’t turn out well.  To be honest, I’m afraid of losing Xander to his brother.”

 

“Well, I’m sure you want what’s best for him.  And he looks so happy with Demetrios.”  Indeed, Xander was all smiles—and so was Demetrios.  They drank each other’s health, then they hugged and kissed, and then they drank each other’s health—and then hugged and kissed again.  They may have been making up for all the lost years.  So I thought I’d do some research into Demetrios.

 

‘Is Demetrios a good soldier?”

 

“He’s one of our best.  An excellent swordsman, and, as you know, a good wrestler.”

 

“You could say the same things about Xander.  We’ve had two invasions by the Egyptians of our island.  In the first, Xander was taken captive for awhile.  In the second, he was wounded after killing a half dozen Egyptian soldiers.”

 

“Then Xander has seen battle!” Chilon said.  “Demetrios has only had a couple of skirmishes near Mycenae.  But we will be traveling to Troy soon for a very big war.”

 

“Oh?  War?  Will this war last a long time?”

 

“Probably not.  Our King Agamemnon has organized a large fleet of Greek ships to attack Troy—on the other side of the Aegean.  It’s a big walled city, but the war should be over in a couple months.”

 

“And of course, Demetrios would like Xander to join your army and sail to Troy.”

 

“Of course!”  Chion smiled as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“Thank you for the information.”  I turned to Abari and took him aside.

 

“The Greeks are going to attack Troy.  It’s on the other side of the ocean.  They think it will take months.  But it could take years.”  Abari looked concerned and said, “I  wonder if Xander wants to fight for Greece for years.”  “I know,’ I said.  “But you’re right; we have to wait until the right time.”

 

“Excuse me,” Chilon said.   Demetrios had motioned for him to come over to Xander and him.  I think he wanted a faster translator.  I guessed they had moved beyond drinking their health and kissing and hugging.  I moved closer so I could overhear.  I thought someone from Xander’s other family should hear.  But then I had another idea.  I asked Xander to speak with me privately.  Abari came close.  I noticed Chilon was watching us, so I turned my back to him and whispered as softly as I could:

 

“Your brother will want to know about your past.  Please don’t tell him much about our island.  Of course talk about the Egyptian invasions, but not about the water, OK?”  Xander looked at me and smiled. “You’re afraid of what happened in Pylos.” 

 

“Yes I am.  Just think what a bunch of Greek soldiers would do to become more muscular!”  I was whispering, but not by much.  I hoped Chilon had not heard.

 

“And even if you decide stay with your brother, please think of the rest of us.  We just barely defeated the Egyptians the last time.  These Greeks look to be bigger and better fighters.  They may not want us as slaves, but if they force us to fight for them, we’re still slaves.”  Xander thought, and then he nodded.  “Stay close to me.  If you think I’m saying too much, punch my ribs.”  He smiled; Abari and I smiled.  I felt maybe we had some protection.

 

 

50

 

Indeed, Demetrios wanted to know everything about Xander’s life since they had been separated.  Xander repeated that he and a Nubian boy slave stole a boat and rowed toward an island.  A big pale man rescued them and took them to shore.  Xander was fostered by him; Zuberi, his Nubian buddy, was fostered by a huge Nubian.  Both of these men had escaped from Egypt, along with about 30 other men.  They all lived on the island.

 

As Xander and Zuberi grew up, the big pale man rescued other boys: a slender Nubian named Lateef and a small barbarian boy named Garin.  And then, some years later, he rescued Jabar—his thumb pointed to me—and Abari—and then he pointed to Abari.  

 

“So,” Demetrios said, “This big pale guy likes to rescue boys who are black and white.”

 

“Yes,” said Xander.  It seemed to me that Demetrios was a bit surprised that someone would rescue black and white boys and bring them up together.  Or at least that’s what I heard.  I only hoped that Xander had heard it too.

 

“What’s this about an Egyptian invasion?  Chilon told me about it.”

 

“We’ve been invaded several times by the Egyptians.  They want to make us slaves again.  The last two times, Jabar”—and again he pointed his thumb at me—“pretty much designed our defenses and we were able to defeat them.  This last time I killed about a half dozen Egyptian soldiers before I was hit in my thigh by an arrow.”  Here he rubbed his thigh where he had been wounded.  “Abari”—another thumb gesture—“took care of me until our father Amare could nurse me back to health.”  I smiled at Abari and at Xander.  So far, he was avoiding any talk of the water.

 

”Is Amare the big pale guy?”

 

“No.  Amare is the huge Nubian.  He’s very gentle.  The big pale guy is Gareth; he’s a northern barbarian; I think of him as my father.”

 

“And yet he lives with a Nubian?”

 

“They are devoted to each other.”  I nearly said these words myself—I was so anxious to defend my fathers.  But it was much better coming from Xander.  Moreover, Xander was making my own case—his simple description of our family was the best argument for his coming home.  And furthermore, it seemed obvious that Demetrios had a problem with black and white men loving each other.

 

I couldn’t stand it any longer: “And my lover is a Nubian.”  Here I kissed Abari, who was a little surprised.  “And Xander’s lover, Zuberi, is a Nubian..  Our fathers brought us up to love each other.”   Then I turned to Xander and said what I had to say: “I know you love your brother, and your finding him is a wonderful thing.  But you have a family at home who love you and who want you to return.  I love you, Abari loves you, Zuberi loves you and longs to suck your cock again.  But most of all, our dad will die if you don’t come home.  You mean the world to him.  Please, Xander, think of the family that loves you!”

 

Demetrios was shocked.  “But this is MY brother!  He is my twin brother!  We share the same flesh.  Surely his adoptive family cannot love him more than me!”

 

Now it was Xander’s turn to be shocked.  He looked confused.  He stammered, “Demetrios—yes, I love you.”  He paused, then turned to me: “But yes, Jabar, I love my family on the island.  And I would never want to hurt our dad.”

 

Demetrios decided to take another tack: “If you love your family so much, then by all means, let Jabar and Abari come with us.  Jabar knows something about military tactics—he could be useful at Troy.  And Abari looks to be a good wrestler.  He would make a good soldier as well!”

 

I knew I was intruding, but I also knew that Xander had a debate going on inside his head.  So I said, “But on the island we are free.  We only defend ourselves.  We don’t attack anyone.  We aren’t an army.  We are free men!”

 

“Yes,” said Demetrios, “but you keep being attacked by the Egyptians.  So maybe you should join our army and once we are done with Troy, we can attack Egypt with you!”  He smiled as if going to war was the easiest thing in the world.

 

“You talk as if war is easy—maybe it is to you Greeks.  But we know how dangerous it can be, how things can go wrong, how a defense almost doesn’t work, how you have to change plans in order to save people from becoming slaves.”  I absent-mindedly put my hand on Xander’s thigh—okay, maybe it wasn’t all that absent-minded.   “And,” I added, “you may get Xander to join you in your war, but you’ll have to force Abari and me to join your army.  We want to go home.”  Luckily, Abari nodded.   I knew I was putting pressure on Xander, but I saw no other way.  He had to choose us over his twin brother.

 

Just then, the old blind seer appeared the edge of the feast.  He was being led by a stunningly beautiful young man dressed in only a loincloth.  “Homer!” Demetrios said, and he waved to the beautiful young man to bring the blind seer over.   Chilon whispered in my ear what was said.   “We need your counsel.  I want my brother to stay with me and fight along side me when we attack Troy.  His adoptive brothers want him to go back to their island.  Can you help me convince my brother?”

 

After Homer sat down, he kissed the beautiful young man—he called him “Adonis”—on the cheek and then said,  “I cannot change minds, only see inside them.”  He turned to Demetrios and then Xander: “You have discovered a brother you never knew.  You are overcome with joy—as you should be.  But you are also grown men now.  And you have different values.  So that is why you are having a hard time with this decision.”  Here he paused, faced Xander, found his shoulder and patted it.   “If you stay with Demetrios, you will feel his love and devotion—but you will also leave the only father you have ever known, and you will turn your back on brothers who love you—not as much as Demetrios, but who love you just the same.”  And then he turned to Demetrios: “And you love Xander more than anyone in your life—as you should.  But he is not you.  He was not adopted by a soldier; he did not grow up in the army.  He does not love the army as you do.  If he stays with you, he will always love you, but he will never love the army like you do.  Do you understand this?”  

 

Demetrios was crying.  Xander was crying.  The man who had brought them together was now tearing them apart.

 

“But I have a way to lessen the pain,” Homer said.  “Xander, I know you wear a thunderbolt—a symbol of Zeus but also a symbol which connects you to your adoptive father.  Give it to me.”  Xander took off his thunderbolt and gave it to Homer, who turned to Demerios and said, “This thunderbolt is dear to Xander.  Do you understand?”  Demetrios said “Yes.”  Homer said some words over the necklace and then gave it to Demetrios.  “Put this on, Demetrios.  It will always connect you to Xander. You will be able to see what he is doing, whenever you wish.”  Demetiros hurriedly put it on.  Then he kissed Xander: “I will always lover you, my brother!”  And Xander said, “And I will always love you.”

 

Homer turned to Demetrios and said, “I know that you wear a bracelet which your father gave you when you entered the army.  Take it off; it will go to Xander and allow him to see you whenever he wishes.”  Demetrios stripped off the bracelet—bronze, encrusted with amber gems—and gave it to Homer.  Homer said some words over it and gave it to Xander.  “Wear this, Xander, and know your brother will always love you.”  Through his tears, Xander said, “I will” and put the bracelet on. 

 

And so the old seer Homer solved our problem.  He was quite a seer.  Demetrios wanted him to come with them when they attacked Troy.  Homer acted if it was obvious that he would go.  But that also helped Demetrios let Xander go. 

 

We stayed for the rest of the feast, but then we said goodbyes—very painful goodbyes for Demetrios and Xander, but they both knew that this was best.  They would always love each other but they had to respect each other’s lives.  I made sure to hug Abari’s waist so that I didn’t jump for joy as we headed down toward the harbor and Masud.