Path of the Tiger

by J M Hemmings

  With a humble upward curving of her mouth she closed her eyes.

  ‘Very well, very well. Tell me when I can open them.’

  William stripped his clothes off with impatient haste, drew in a deep breath and then sprang into the pool. As he plunged into the water, its frigidity caused him to let out a shout that was half pain, half glee.

  ‘Oh boyo, it’s freezing in here!’

  ‘Aye, it is William, it is! But isn’t it gloriously refreshing? This is freedom, this is it! May I open my eyes now?’

  ‘You may.’

  William began to swim in circles, peering down at the dark depths beneath him in an attempt to distract himself from staring, slack-jawed, at the stunning aqua-nymph who was treading water just a few feet from him. Only her head and neck broke the surface, but through the rushing ripples her unclothed form was visible in a wavy blur of temptation; small, firm breasts, a marble-smooth belly, and the enticing curve of slender shoulders were partially obscured, only tantalisingly so, by the movement of the waves and the distortion of light.

  ‘How deep is this pool, I wonder?’ he asked. ‘D’ you think there’s a kelpie living in here? I cannae see the bottom!’

  ‘Deep enough,’ she answered with a chuckle. ‘Don’t let the kelpie pull you under!’

  ‘Oy now, you cannae make japes about such things! What if there really is a kelpie doon there?’

  Aurora grinned mischievously.

  ‘There’s a way to deal with water kelpies. It’s sure to drive them away.’

  ‘What’s tha’ then?’

  ‘Watch,’ she said enticingly, ‘and I’ll show you.’

  ‘Aye, I’m watching, let’s ha’ it then!’

  William stared at Aurora, trying to focus on her eyes instead of the swirling image of her naked body, half-revealed, all the while praying that she wouldn’t notice his painfully hard arousal.

  ‘Watch very carefully now,’ she purred, drawing him in with the seductive lilt of her voice. ‘This is important.’

  William swam closer, craning his neck, and Aurora surged suddenly forward and splashed a spray of water into his face.

  ‘Argh!’ he yelled, laughing as he back-pedalled to escape her splashes. ‘Leave me be, I’m no kelpie!’

  ‘You wanted to know!’ she shouted, continuing her relentless assault. ‘So I’m showing you!’

  Eventually she stopped pursuing him around the pool, and they both stood treading water, panting and laughing with innocent joy, while the waterfall cascaded relentlessly into the pool in the background.

  ‘All right, all right,’ Aurora said, the untainted enjoyment of fun painted as vividly as a harlequin’s makeup on her beaming face. ‘Come, we must go and see the secret before it’s too late. Helios is drawing his fiery chariot across the sky faster than we realise.’

  ‘Aye, you just point me in the right direction an’ I’ll follow.’

  ‘We have to swim under the waterfall, and then there’s a way up behind the curtain of water.’

  ‘How did you come tae know about this secret spot?’

  In her proud smile there was a subtle, self-conscious pride of sorts.

  ‘I told you, I found it. I have a naturally inquisitive nature; I adore exploring! It’s all part of the joy of freedom … what little I have of that, anyway. Now, enough questions, just do as you’re told and follow me!’

  With that she turned around and dived under the water, and William saw her pale form disappearing beneath the froth that churned where water clashed against water. He gulped down a big breath of air and then followed her. Under the water, all he could see was a chaos of furious bubbles, so he swam straight ahead until the froth became less frenetic, and he no longer felt the force of the falling water from above. He surfaced and saw Aurora bobbing in the calm beyond the crashing water, waiting for him.

  ‘There is a way up,’ he gasped in awe, his gaze falling upon an ancient staircase that had been hewn into the stone face of the waterfall.

  ‘Yes,’ Aurora said. ‘But only one of us can go, because the stairway is very steep and narrow. Since I’ve seen it before, I want you to go.’

  ‘Very well. Close your eyes, I’m about to climb out ay the water.’

  ‘No.’

  Her defiance was resolute, yet also gentle.

  ‘No?’

  ‘I won’t close my eyes,’ she declared, firm and immovable. ‘I want to look at you.’

  A surge of bravado heated William’s every tendon and muscle.

  ‘Very well. Out I go.’

  He hauled himself out of the pool, and the cold water ran in little rivulets over his slim but work-hardened form, beading on the hardwood-hewn, youthful muscles of his torso and shoulders and running down his flat belly and the sculpted, angular lines of his hips to pool about his sandy-coloured pubic hair, and then run down and drip from his penis onto the mossy rock beneath him.

  ‘You have a beautiful form, William,’ Aurora murmured. ‘I would love to paint you.’

  ‘I dunnae ken what your father would think ay tha’,’ William remarked, ascending the narrow and slippery stairway with cautious steps.

  ‘I don’t care a fig what he thinks. Now go on up!’

  William needed no further prompting; without further ado he headed up the steps. At the top of the stone stairway was a narrow tunnel that was only just large enough for him to crawl into, and a golden spotlight of sunshine incised the sheet of falling water, illuminating a bronze-glowing path directly to the back of the passage. He bent down and crawled through the shaft of slick stone. The claustrophobic space recalled unpleasant flashbacks from his chimney sweeping days, but the sight of something mysterious glinting at the end of the shaft spurred him on. He pushed on for a further two or three metres, and then emerged into a small cavern, and what he saw inside caused him to suck in a sharp breath of surprise.

  ‘Step to the side to allow the sunlight to flood the cavern completely, William,’ Aurora cried from the pool below. ‘Can you see him? Can you see the king of the fisher folk?’

  ‘Aye,’ William managed to stammer. ‘I … I ca’ see him!’

  At the end of the tiny grotto, positioned on a stone chair, sat a skeleton adorned in rotten rags and a few items of bronze armour from some long-forgotten century. Across his lap lay an ancient sword that had all but crumbled to rust, with the king’s skeletal fingers still wrapped around the hilt. By his sides, two other skeletons sat. They had no weapons, but they were adorned with intricately wrought jewellery, and both had patina-tarnished torcs around their necks. The perfectly angled spotlight of sunshine bathed all of the figures in a golden glow, giving the scene a surreal air.

  ‘This is amazing, Aurora,’ William shouted, his echoing voice ricocheting off the walls as he did so. ‘The king ay the waterfall! The river king!’

  ‘All hail the king!’ she yelled playfully, her voice only just audible above the thunder of the cascading water.

  ‘May his rule endure forever!’ William roared hoarsely in reply.

  The sun, ever moving, started shifting its rays, and the shadows began to retake the small cavern, shrouding the dead king and his subjects once more in the darkness in which they had dwelled for centuries. William began crawling forward, and as he did so he started to feel a bit dizzy and light-headed; the wine was definitely doing its work. He poked his head out of the tunnel opening, and saw that Aurora had disappeared.

  ‘Aurora?’ he called.

  ‘I’m back in the pool,’ she shouted. ‘I’m lonely William, hurry up and join me!’

  William needed no further encouragement; feeling the blood gushing toward his loins again and swelling his manhood with an explosive arousal, he scrambled down the mossy steps, almost tripping and falling a number of times in his haste. He slipped into the churning water at the bottom and dived below the surface to swim through the bubbles and the chaos of plummeting water.

  When he surfaced on the other side, he saw Aurora swimming with lei
surely strokes upon her back, and the splendorous sight took his breath away. Her breasts broke the surface of the water; two glorious hillocks crowned by pale pink nipples, erect with cold. A flat, marble belly sloped down into the water, where the top of her pubic mound with its dark, triangular tuft was revealed and concealed alternately by her long legs, kicking gently against the current.

  ‘I’m glad you got to meet the king of the fisher folk, William,’ she purred. ‘Isn’t he just incredible?’

  ‘Aye,’ William murmured. His eyes were drawn, as if by some potent magnetic pull, to her casually revealed bosom. ‘Aye, but nowhere near as incredible as the sight ay you. I dunnae how or why, but the good Lord above has somehow seen fit tae send me one of his angels, for surely no mortal woman could be so perfect in her beauty, such an ethereal—’

  ‘William, stop,’ she interrupted, blushing. ‘There’s no need for such wild exaggeration.’

  He would not be deterred though, and sincerity shone its torchlight in his eyes.

  ‘There is, Aurora. I’m absolutely, positively awestruck. On this day, my eyes have been opened like those ay a wee kitten, who before this moment could see nowt but the inside ay his eyelids. The world itself, everything I’ve e’er seen before this moment, it all seems like a smudge ay bland auld grey compared tae the flower blossom, the fiery sunset, the jewelled night sky that the sight ay you has awoken in me. I’ve ne’er felt so utterly alive as I dae at this very moment.’

  ‘Do you really mean that?’

  ‘Wi’ all my heart.’

  Aurora swam closer to William, so that they were almost touching. He could smell the sweetness of her breath, tinged subtly with the scent of wine, and in her amber eyes the reflected sunlight from the surface of the pool glittered.

  ‘I ca’ see the stars in your eyes,’ William whispered. ‘A whole night sky ay ‘em, spread out like the riches ay an emperor.’

  ‘You really do have a poet’s soul,’ she purred.

  ‘And you’ve a face that’s aglow with all the glory ay the heavens themselves.’

  Aurora’s face took on a cast of immense gravity, of solid sincerity.

  ‘William … I need you to do something for me, right now.’

  ‘Anything you ask ay me.’

  ‘Kiss me.’

  William had kissed girls before. The first had been a plain, frumpy farmer’s daughter he’d met at the village market, and they had taken a liking to one another, on more than one occasion meeting in the fields where they had ended up kissing and engaging in fondling and casual petting. The farmer had put a swift end to it when he had found out, and William was still under threat of castration by hedge-clippers should he ever again set foot on Farmer MacGladdery’s fields.

  As he slipped his arms around Aurora and pulled her in for the kiss, he was at least not a complete neophyte to the act. He ran his fingers through her thick, wavy hair and an invigorating thrill coursed through his body as his lips parted hers. Then, as the glorious heat of her wet mouth and warm tongue met his, it was as if a gunpowder keg had been detonated in his mind. His past kisses with the farmer’s daughter had been both exciting and enthralling, in the usual manner of new experiences, but that was where the similarities between those kisses and this kiss ended. Never before had he felt such exquisite, soul-shaking, intoxicating pleasure. A volcanic heat spread from his sucking, licking, devouring mouth all throughout his body, igniting all of his nerve endings with the intensity of magma gushing from a fissure in the earth’s crust. William’s fingers danced across Aurora’s velvet skin, and it was as if she was a fire drake, plunging everything into a ruinous but glorious inferno.

  They kissed and kissed, again and again, and turned in the water, running their eager, eager fingers over one another’s bodies, digging them into taut muscles and soft, yielding tissue alike, exploring one another’s contours with delectable curiosity for what seemed like an eternity, until they were both gasping for breath and aching at the jaw.

  ‘William … that was…’

  ‘The most beautiful thing I’ve e’er done, m’lady,’ William replied, his chest heaving up and down and his pulse thundering.

  ‘I’ve never kissed a man before,’ Aurora said, still gasping for breath. ‘Is it always like this?’

  ‘No, I dunnae believe it is. This was … special. But, you’ve really ne’er kissed a man? I mean, I’m no’ surprised, as you’re a high-born lady, but you told me about the nude paintings, the posing at the art school, all ay that?’

  ‘Yes, all of that is true, but it does not mean that I’ve ever had romantic liaisons. I have never met anyone with whom I wanted to do that, you see.’

  William smiled and caressed her cheek and jaw with ever-so-gentle fingertips, gazing into her eyes all the while.

  ‘Until now,’ he whispered.

  She smiled and draped her arms around his shoulders.

  ‘Yes … because you’re the first man I’ve ever met who … who could truly comprehend freedom. And this has been the most wondrous thing I’ve ever done. It is freedom, given form.’

  ‘Let’s dae it again, angel, let’s dae it again.’

  They embraced again, kissing with a furious and desperate passion until the sun began to sink low in the sky and the biting chill of the water became unbearable. They reluctantly disengaged and got out of the pool, and William was unable to take his eyes off her exquisite figure as she dried herself off and got into her clothes. A sense of dreamlike surreality was tumbling about his mind with even more zest and energy than the cascading water behind him.

  ‘Before we set off,’ William began, ‘there’s something I must tell you.’

  ‘What is that, dear William?’

  He looked into her eyes, and spoke with a sincerity that came from the very depths of his core, from the essence of his immortal soul.

  ‘I love you m’lady. With all my soul, with all my mind, with all my body, with every ounce ay my blood an’ the heart that pumps it, I love you. And I will continue tae love you until the end ay time an’ all things.’

  PART THREE

  12

  OCTAVIAN

  January, 80BC. Rome

  The grunts, cries, moans and groans of multiple couples engaged in acts of sexual congress reverberated around the clay-walled corridors of the brothel and rang in Claudius’s ears, the sound waves boring into his brain with the unwanted persistence of burrowing parasites. He glanced over his shoulder at his companion, who was shuffling along behind him, and saw the same expression of distaste mirrored in Lepidus’s small, wrinkle-creased eyes, two embers glowing wrathfully in the shadows of the heavy hood he wore to hide his face. Flames from the smoking torch-brands flung eerie shadows across the gloomy passage, illuminating in swirls of amber, ochre and crimson the pornographic mosaics that decorated the walls, bringing the nude two-dimensional figures to the brink of life.

  ‘Why on earth has Octavian summoned us to meet in such a vile, uncouth hovel?’ Claudius grumbled. ‘It is unbefitting of our standing as senators of the Republic to step inside such a low, revolting den of sensuality as this!’

  ‘Be silent and follow the guard!’ Lepidus hissed. ‘Only Jupiter knows what kind of cutthroats and lowlifes are frolicking behind these curtains! They’d slit our throats for two denarii, no doubt. Quickly, quickly, he’s rounded that corner!’

  The two elderly men hastened their pace and scurried after the guard, who led them down a flight of stairs and past a gaggle of naked, giggling prostitutes of all shapes, sizes and ethnic backgrounds, until finally they arrived at a stout oaken door, reinforced with bands of steel. The guard rapped on it six times in a peculiar rhythmic pattern, and a muffled voice from behind the door demanded that a password be spoken.

  ‘Gold begets power, power begets gold,’ Claudius muttered through the keyhole.

  The door swung open, revealing a large circular chamber beyond, the smooth stone walls of which were hung with colourful tapestries. Dominating the centre
of the room was a pool, ringed with marble statues of gods and heroes of legend, and decorating the pool itself were stylised mosaics of dolphins, ships, fish, mermaids and mermen. Three men were wallowing in the hot water, from which wisps of steam were twisting and dancing, like hundreds of sea-snakes surfacing for air. All three were sipping on golden goblets of wine, and were being waited on by half-naked teenage serving boys, attired in spotless white loincloths and nothing else. One of the men, who at forty-five was a good decade or two younger than the rest of them, rose nude from the water. Standing, he beckoned to Claudius and Lepidus with a broad, welcoming smile.

  ‘Come my friends! Warm yourselves against the winter chill!’

  The guard stepped aside to allow the two plump geriatrics enter the chamber, and he then drew his sword and stepped outside the door. Another guard closed it from the inside and bolted it shut.

  ‘What is the meaning of this, Octavian?!’ Claudius demanded, a sour expression of disdain smeared across his flabby jowls. ‘You summon us here to this, this vile house of lust where thieves, murderers and pickpockets frolic with slave wenches! There are far more reputable brothels in which we could have convened, you know!’

  Octavian was a short, stocky man whose figure was still solid with the chiselled muscles of youth, and he sported a full head of thick brown curls despite being well into middle age. His wolfish grin remained in place, and he shook his head with condescending amusement, and then let out a guffaw of laughter.

  ‘Claudius, Claudius, ever the highly-strung senator!’ he remarked, the smugness of his words palpable. ‘I do apologise for dragging you into this place, which is clearly only fit for those who are several ranks below your acclaimed social standing, but please, give me a few moments of your precious time, and you will realise why I brought you here. Secrecy is a valuable thing, you see. I’m sure you both understand this, no? You may remove your cloaks and hoods now, for nobody here will recognise your faces. And even if they did, it would not matter; everyone here is absolutely loyal to me.’

  Claudius grumbled, scowling darkly, but he removed the heavy velvet cloak from his shoulders and freed his bald head of the shadow in which it had been swathed.