Voyager in Bondage

By Simon Finch

Vesuvio is the golden Voyager, destined to journey through every cavern of depravity in the ancient world. It is a time when Rome was at its most decadent and throbbing with the muscle of slavery, the First Century A.D., an age of sensual adventure and unbridled sexuality. Following Golden Voyager and Pagan Voyager, the earlier volumes in the spectacular Voyager trilogy, comes the final chapter in the adventures of Vesuvio, Rome's greatest hero. Vesuvio is now a rich man but after his son Aurelius is kidnapped by bandits he must fight against Rome's decadence and cruelty. Vesuvio hunts for his son with help from the mistress of the most decadent brothel in Imperial Rome and has to secure passage on a pleasure galley sailing across the Mediterranean to Ethiopia to rescue his son. Following the bandits from the opulent Ethiopian capital, Axum, to the Egyptian port of Alexandria Vesuvio is again cast into slavery and punished as the embodiment of Rome. Aurelius must prove himself to be his father's equal to escape slavery and return to Rome. Majestic in scope and sizzling with fast-moving action, Voyager in Bondage recreates history's most decadent era, a time of sprawling arenas of blood and lavish beds of unimaginable pleasure, for anyone who has enjoyed movies such as Spartacus or Gladiator.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Souvenir Press
• Release date: Feb 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780285642102

Book preview

BOOK ONE

SLAVE PROPHECY

1

Acrimson sun hung from the evening sky of southern Italy as Vesuvio raced his stallion across a dirt field, galloping toward the slave quarter on his estate. The white stucco walls fronting the slave quarter were already decorated with lemon branches and brightly coloured garlands in honour of Flora, the Roman goddess of flowers, plants, and the orchards.

The goddess, Flora, was also the deity of prostitutes; her celebration was called Floralia, and the festivities began tonight in the slave quarter. But Vesuvio considered postponing the raucous celebration as he galloped toward the white stucco walls – his bailiff had reported troublemakers threatening violence on the estate because of a slave now locked in the ergastulum, the prison.

Vesuvio slowed his stallion when he saw his bailiff, Galba, and the bailiff’s husky twenty-year-old son, Antony, ride on horseback from the slave quarter. The two men galloped toward Vesuvio, then turned their horses back toward the gateway as Vesuvio approached them.

Galba rode alongside Vesuvio, shouting, ‘Slaves surround the prison, Master! They want to castrate Peperino! For watching the married couple make love!’

Vesuvio called over the galloping horse hooves, ‘Who leads the slaves?’

‘It is Lexor, Master!’

Young Antony called from the other side of Vesuvio, ‘Lexor tells the slaves to protest against the sentence you gave Peperino, Master. Lexor urges his Christian followers to castrate him!’

Vesuvio reined his stallion on a rocky knoll above the slave quarter. As Galba and Antony halted in a cloud of dust, Vesuvio steadied his nervous animal and asked, ‘Lexor? A Christian and a man of learning who urges castration?’

Galba wiped the dust from his weathered brow. ‘Lexor insists that castration is the necessary punishment, Master. The one and only way to punish a man for spying upon a married couple making love.’

Antony – young, adventurous, excited by turmoil on the usually quiet estate – danced his horse alongside Vesuvio and confided, ‘Master, I remember Lexor telling me about his Christian beliefs when he tutored me with your son. I remember Lexor saying that his beliefs were linked to the cult of Orpheus. That his religion was more avenging, much stronger than the religion of other Christians on the estate. Lexor called the other Christians lambs and he said they would someday be trampled out of existence.’

Galba was proud of his athletic son but wished he was not so talkative. Galba had disapproved when Vesuvio had invited Antony to be educated with his own son; Galba still believed that education gave a slave airs and opinions which too often got him into trouble, led to disobedience, and made him unnecessarily talkative.

Corporal punishment. A good whipping or a few biting touches of a cane. That was the way to deal with slaves, especially disobedient slaves, Galba believed, and he now said, ‘Master, the slave Lexor accuses you of pampering Peperino. For being too lenient with him. But perhaps it is Lexor, Master, who needs stricter discipline.’

Vesuvio knew that Galba believed in flailling the whip against wrongdoers, as well as to keep slaves faithful and obedient. But Vesuvio had tried for many years to replace ancient punishments on the estate with less violent forms of discipline. Vesuvio constantly tried to improve his slaves’ lives.

He said, ‘I have heard the accusation that I should deal more severely with Peperino for spying on the young couple making love. But I locked Peperino in prison. I still believe that imprisonment is sufficient.’

Galba grumbled, ‘Yet Lexor still criticises you, Master.’

Vesuvio laughed. ‘That makes the irony, Galba! And why? Because I am also criticised for allowing Lexor too much freedom! My critics say I should have never allowed the tutor, Lexor, to live in the slave quarters with the uneducated field and mill slaves. My critics say that Lexor should not have been allowed to mix with men born into slavery. But Lexor specifically asked to live there. Lexor pleaded to help the other slaves improve their lives on the estate. I must give him his due. He did help many slaves when he first came here. He still has a few converts from those years, men and women who have not fallen away from him when he became more fanatical over the years in his Christian beliefs.’

Galba frowned. He did not put much store in Roman, Christian, nor any of the other religions practised by slaves or free men. But Galba was relieved that Antony had not been affected by the hours spent – in Galba’s opinion, wasted – being tutored with Vesuvio’s son, young Aurelius.

Vesuvio always felt compassion for a man who fell upon bad luck; he said, ‘Lexor was cast into slavery because of unpaid debts. I saved him from being sent to the quarries by buying him and bringing him here. Lexor lived peacefully for many years with the other slaves but now he rebels against me.’

‘Because he has been waiting for you to free him!’ Galba blurted. He then softened his voice, adding with respect, ‘The slave Lexor expects special treatment, Master, because he is a man who was not born into slavery.’

‘But Lexor is an inudicati slave. Not a man born into slavery but someone cast into slavery by a judicial council. I cannot break Imperial law and free him!’

Galba shrugged. ‘Nor do I urge you to free him, Master. I only repeat to you stories I hear about Lexor, the so-called holy man and tutor who now sows discontent amongst neighbours with whom he had once lived in peace.’

Vesuvio lifted the leather reins of his stallion to ride toward the slave quarter. ‘Perhaps I am blind, Galba. Even my good wife has been telling me that Lexor is changing. Miranda keeps telling me that Lexor is a different man from the one whom I brought here twelve years ago when our son was barely two years old.’

‘Master!’ Galba called as he watched Vesuvio ease the stallion down the slope. ‘Do not ride into the quarter. Lexor has agitated his followers. Some have armed themselves with weapons.’

Vesuvio continued down the slope.

Galba shouted louder. ‘Men and women are also overexcited by Floralia, Master. Everyone grows uneasy on the eve of such a debauched holiday. Lexor has only put a torch to the mood.’

‘My slaves have not attacked me before,’ called Vesuvio.

‘You honour me with the title bailiff,’ shouted Galba, suddenly heeling his horse. ‘It is my place to ride alongside you, Master!’

Following his father, Antony called, ‘And I come, too, Master!’

Vesuvio did not reply; he quickened his gallop toward the festooned archway of the slave quarter, the wind blowing the golden hair back from his face bronzed by the sun of southern Italy.

* * *

Vesuvio told Galba and Antony to wait inside the gates with swords drawn for possible trouble; he rode alone toward the gathering of men, boys, a few women holding clubs who had gathered in front of the white stucco prison. The crowd was beginning to shout agreement with Lexor who stood inside the circle, they had gathered on a dirt road which divided the quarter like the main thoroughfare of a market town.

Lexor, a tall man with greying hair and a beard which curled tightly against his long face, spoke to the crowd in angry phrases rather than his usual, self-contained style. He ignored political and religious references, pursuing instead personal vendettas against his master.

He called, ‘People do not have to live alongside criminals! We do not have to tolerate men who putrify our lives. We must show our master we are tired of mere promises for a better life – the only men who benefit here are criminals like … Peperino!’

The slaves began to shout their agreement with Lexor when Vesuvio suddenly thundered behind them, ‘Clear this road! Return to your huts and dormitories! Go home!’

The slaves turned and, seeing Vesuvio mounted on his stallion, backed away, murmuring, ‘Master!’, ‘How long has he been listening?’ ‘It’s our master!’

‘Do not move!’ Lexor called in open defiance to Vesuvio. ‘Stay! Remain united! Tell your master exactly what you want!’

Vesuvio’s first reaction was to unfurl the black leather whip from his saddle and flail Lexor for defying him. But he danced his stallion closer toward the group, calling, ‘Lexor! Why do you cause trouble? On the eve of a holiday?’

Lexor gripped the oaken staff he carried to denote his position of tutor and shouted, ‘Freedom!’

‘But you have freedom!’ Vesuvio answered. ‘What freedom are you allowed by law that I do not give you? Answer me that?’

Lexor’s bearded face turned into a mask of hatred; he avoided the question, replying instead, ‘How can a man be free in a place where sinners are not punished?’ He quickly beckoned for the other slaves to speak and support him.

‘Punish the wrong-doers!’ shouted a short woman in the crowd.

‘Punish Peperino!’ chanted an old man. ‘Punish the filthy swine for peeking at lovers.’

‘Yes! Punish Peperino!’ chorused another male slave. ‘Punish Peperino for watching Drusus screw young Sara!’

Vesuvio listened to the slaves’ words and glanced at the prison walls behind Lexor; he saw a rash of graffiti, obscene drawings meant to depict Peperino: one drawing portrayed a man masturbating in front of two people making love; another drawing showed a man watching a dog mounting a bitch; a third drawing was of a man sticking a phallus between his buttocks as he watched a phallus piercing a vaginal oval.

‘Listen to me!’ Vesuvio shouted, raising one hand to the crowd. ‘Listen! Peperino was wrong to do what he did! But he’s in prison! He pays for his crime!’

‘Peperino sucks the gaoler’s pizzle!’ called the short woman. ‘Peperino is celebrating before the holiday begins.’

‘Hooray for Floralia!’

‘Peperino celebrates sex before the week of the whore goddess begins,’ shouted another slave.

Vesuvio looked back toward Lexor and said, ‘How would you punish Peperino? What would your sentence be?’

‘Castrate him!’ Lexor said without hesitation. ‘Castrate him for committing such a crime!’

The suggestion was taken up by the crowd.

‘Castrate him!’

‘Castrate Peperino!’

‘Castrate Peperino for watching lovers screw!’

‘Castrate him for licking love juice from young Sara’s slit! Castrate Peperino for seeing Drusus poke his meat into Sara!’

Vesuvio strained to steady his horse amidst the raucous crowd; he protested, ‘But to castrate Peperino is violent! More violent and severe than punishment ordered by the generals in our armies for such offences! I do not want to worsen life here! I want to improve it! I want to make life better for you. I want you to live – to know peace – to share days like … Floralia!’

An instant cheer greeted Vesuvio’s mention of the cherished week of merriment.

‘Hooray for the gathering of flowers!’

‘Let the festival of harlots begin!’

‘Let us all be holy harlots for a week!’

Having gained the crowd’s attention, Vesuvio waved for them to be silent and trotted his horse closer toward Lexor. He looked down at the man whom he had purchased more than twelve years ago, the man he had saved from the quarries and made a tutor on his estate, asking, ‘Why else do you protest, Lexor? You call for freedom. But what kind of freedom do you want? Speak now! I give you the chance! In front of all these people!’

Lexor did not hestitate. ‘Freedom to practise my religion.’

‘But you have that freedom.’

‘In an atmosphere of filth?’ Lexor spat.

‘What else do you want? Speak!’

‘Money – money for the years I … we … are enslaved to you. Financial imbursement for….’

A holiday spirit now ran through the crowd; the slaves’ thoughts had turned to feasting and had abandonded Lexor’s cause. They laughed at his reply about money; the majority of the men and women had been born into slavery and had known nothing but enslavement all their lives.

Vesuvio raised his hands to silence the people, to give Lexor this opportunity to speak. He continued, ‘I bought you, Lexor. You were condemned to slavery and I purchased you at a government auction in Puteoli. Do you resent me for doing that? For keeping you from hard labour and making you the tutor of my son? You were fortunate enough to receive education yourself as a young man? Do you despise me for recognising that and sparing your physical toil?’

Lexor raised one finger toward Vesuvio and ranted, ‘Your son! You resent what I teach your son! You say I fill young Aurelius’s head with Christian thoughts! Are you afraid of truths … Master?’

‘You are disrespectful to me as your master, Lexor, and you misrepresent my wishes as a tutor. I did not say you were to keep the teachings of the prophet, Jesus Christ, from my son. I told you I wanted my son to know about all religions, about the Roman deities, the Greek gods, even the teachings from the east. I was fortunate myself enough to learn about many religions. I also want my son to have the same privileges. So, Lexor, do not twist my words.’

Lexor said, ‘If you do not approve of me, Master Vesuvio, then release me! If you are so righteous then release me – and begin releasing born slaves – if you are so dedicated to mankind. Yes, I say release me or I promise – I vow on my life and the lives of those good men and women who practise my teachings – that you will have your own turn against you.’

Vesuvio momentarily ignored Lexor’s disrespectful behaviour as a slave. He instead repeated the words, ‘My own turn against me? What do you mean, Lexor? Do you threaten rebellion here on my estate?’

Lexor stared at Vesuvio. He then raised his oaken tutor’s staff, nodded his head that he was a determined man, and disappeared into the crowd which had grown larger now in the main thoroughfare of the slave quarter.

‘"My own turn against me." Is that a threat? Or is it a prophecy?’ Vesuvio did not understand.

* * *

Galba and Antony rode alongside Vesuvio; Galba said, ‘I think you have heard the last of Lexor, Master.’

‘I wish you were right,’ Vesuvio glumly said, still haunted by Lexor’s parting words. ‘But do not forget that Lexor once knew freedom. I do not lock manacles on his wrists. I do not chain his legs with irons. But Lexor holds me responsible for his enslavement.’

‘But you kept the swine from hard labour, Master! Probably even death in some mine or quarry!’

‘Men often resent charity,’ Vesuvio paused, adding, ‘I must learn more about the religion he practises, the Christian sect with roots in Orphic ritual.’

A large wooden phallus, composed of two wine barrels and stretched bullskins, passed alongside Vesuvio and Galba in the central street of the slave quarter.

‘The people have already forgotten about Lexor and Peperino, Master,’ Galba said, watching the slaves happily carry the mammoth phallus on their shoulders.

‘The goddess Flora supposedly began life as a whore,’ Vesuvio said, studying his people’s obsession with the outsize phallus.’ Now the sacred slut gets an entire week of religious feastdays.’

Galba nodded for Vesuvio to