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"A queen of old Egypt, named Cleo
Conducted her loving 'con brio.'
She felt quite at home in
The arms of one Roman
But preferred to be part of a trio."
-author unknown

Flavius Maximitus, the only free-born son to Flavus Maximitus and his wife Lucina, stood naked against the cold granite wall. His body shone with sweat and oil that reflected the moonlight shining through the open-roofed peristyle, a pleasant little garden in the middle of his family's house. In his hand gleamed a drusus, a fine crafted short sword. It quivered in the dull light, as did the toned small body. The boy was not cold, even in the chilly evening, but scared, and nervous.

Next to him, a dark doorway with a large finely-crafted wooden door - his parents' cubicula, their bedroom. He stood leaning against the smooth wall for several long minutes, waiting. His bronze-coloured body rippled whenever he shook with fear, his short black hair flattened against his head with grease. His mind wandered over what was to be done this evening, and the promised reward at the end. He worried about the slaves and servants in the house, and even though they had been taken care of, nothing must be left to chance.

The silent movement of the large door startled him, and gave his heart a rush. It was time!

The door opened only a few inches then stopped, just as planned. An adrenaline rush flowed through his body, giving him determination and strength to finish his task. He moved upon silent bare feet, grabbing the door in his free hand.

As he slowly opened the door, the inner room was bathed in yellow light from a small candle next to the large lavish bed. Flavius paused only for a second as he looked upon his father's sleeping body. The thin embroidered blanket could not hide the obesity of his father - it sickened him. Without closing the door, he walked slowly and carefully towards the slumbering form, not taking his eyes off the face of his father. In seconds he stood over the large bloated form, staring into the face that gave him life. He ignored a movement over his shoulder.

The ex-senator lay in troubled sleep, sometimes kicking out with his feet, other times his hands. He was trying to stop the demons of his sleep taking away everything his family had worked the last two hundred years for. But suddenly in his dream, he was attacked from behind, from the people whom he expected to be loyal...

Flavius jumped as he saw his father's eyes open suddenly, "What... what are you doing, boy..." The deep voice boomed out threateningly - the voice of a man who is used to being obeyed.

The fat man started to rise. Suddenly, Flavius saw all the years of his life; the beatings, the shouting, being treated like a dog by his own father. So he moved faster than he ever moved before, the adrenaline flowing through his veins giving him new found strength.

The drusus came around in an arc; it landed straight down upon his father's lower face. The blade struck the fat man's jaw, breaking the jawbone and causing the loss of several teeth while cleaving through the meaty chin. Dazed by the shock, Flavus fell back onto the bed, unable to do anything except raise an arm in defiance.

Very little sound was heard in the dimly-lit cubicula. But a gurgle escaped from the ruptured mouth of Flavus. The next swing followed soon after the first and came down upon the out- stretched hand, cleaving off three fingers and most of the palm. The bloody and mangled stump pumped blood into the very eyes of the unarmed man, his eyes wide with horror.

An uncontrollable blood-lust took over the boy as he drew his blade up again. For a brief second he saw into his father's pain- filled eyes, saw the blood splattered upon the fat cheeks, and the pool of redness over the man's chest. The helplessness of the older man enraged Flavius; this man was not worthy enough to call himself his father. The boy reached out with his free hand to grab and push away the outstretched, maimed hand. With the other, he swung down with the sharp blade, biting into the exposed neck. The shiny blade bit deep into the fat, exposing most of the muscle and veins of the butchered neck. The severed carotid artery drenched both males in a fountain of blood.

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"You must be Bandy," I said. "Looks like we've come to the right place." "It's the last place you'll look, anyway," the dwarf said. "I couldn't help but notice that you have some fine performers, but that there is no real organization to their shows. It is just act after act that people watch until they are bored and then leave. I believe that by joining forces, we might bring a certain je ne sais quoi to the show. We could generate real excitement. Bring people in to see...

Romancing the Clown7 Thats Cathys Clown

"So what I'm saying is that we shorten the program a little and get four shows a day in when we get to these big cities," I said. I was having a drink with Bandy in a local tavern. Lees accompanied me as my guard and sat not far away with Bandy's two warriors. Cathy lay at his feet. I'd been insinuating myself into his good graces ever since my dinner with Lord Chang. We'd gone deeper into the South and had turned west on our circuit following the course of a large river, heavy with...

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