Caravan From Afar [Barates]

[Ra]

The day was warm. It always was. The noon sun was high in the sky, shining brightly without a single cloud to block its light. While the sun god found this day to be beautiful and glorious, not the same could be said for the people of the Greek caravan which made camp below the high dunes in the depths of the great oasis. They milled about, setting up their wagons and watering their horses, preparing for a day's rest, and hopefully a successful day of business. Money and trade drove them here. Surely not many could be seen joining such caravans simply to see far off places.

Ra stood on top of one of the sand dunes on the outskirts of the encampment, his coat burning a brilliant golden red, shimmering with each quiver of his muscles. His head was held high, the dip in his nose signifying to anyone with common knowledge that he was of Arabian stock, a prized breed among Egyptians, dignified and proud. But unlike those horses below, this chestnut stood alone and unburdened by leather straps and colored tassles. With a shake of his fine head, he sent his mane flying in the sandy wind, tossled about in an almost tangled mess of silken strands.

He licked his lips and watched the traders organize and set out their wares. A few children could be seen bounding about between vendors, and Ra pricked his ears forward in intrigue. Only when he noticed someone pointing toward him did he move, rearing on his hind legs in a form of warning but refraining from releasing any cry. His ears flattened against his skull, and he pawed at the sand furiously. His nostrils flared, and his eyes held a meanness in them no mortal creature could have. But that they could not see. It was only show. They could not abandon their wares for fear of being subject to thievery, but this was not the first time Ra had garnered attention from them.

Not far off, Ra could see a small group of people heading toward the caravan, coming from the direction of Thebes. His attention was drawn to them now, and he picked up his hooves, walking toward them. He stayed at a distance. He always did, but he liked to see the people and how they interacted. He liked hearing them talk and often wished he could be a part of their conversations. Alas, it seemed like a forlorn dream. What self-respecting god such as Ra would care to meddle in the affairs of men if not for trouble and mischief? Ra wanted no trouble. He only wished to see.

[Barates Aster]

**(Note: Anything spoken by Barates in italics is Greek, otherwise it'll be Egyptian)

---

Barates was no fool, however he acted at times.

Once he heard the caravan was in town, it took but a moment for him to coerce another slave into finishing his tasks, and though it resulted in the loss of his dinner and sleeping place in front of the ovens in the kitchens, he couldn’t help but find himself pleased.

Tugging a threadbare cloak across his shoulders-filched from a pile of dirt scraps-he made sure the meager linen covered the prominent brand on his back as well as his hair, hiding both from view. This the cloak did easily enough, as it was a wide garment at least two times his size. Unfortunately, despite its voluminous width, it did little to cover him below the waist, the ragged edges leaning the thought that the garment had been cut in half earlier.

Still, Barates didn’t mind, and apparently neither did the merchants he had snuck in with. The men were chattering, paying him no mind as they made their way to the oasis.

To them, he was but another gawker, hoping to see the foreigners and perhaps buy a bauble or two.

And well, to be perfectly honest, that’s the way Barates wanted it to stay.

Nodding towards one of the men but taking care to never say a word- his accent after all was a dead giveaway-Barates hid a silent sigh of relief as the caravan came into view, a shining beacon in the desert.

Still, he took care to keep at the middle of the group he was walking with- at the front or at the back was too suspicious and when the men made conversation with him he simply nodded or made affirmative sounds until they came to the many wagons.

Dodging a giggling child with practiced ease, Barates finally allowed himself to separate from the group, giving a friendly nod towards his companions as he perused the train of wagons and horses, each decked out with only the sort of finery that a trader could afford.

Greek women babbled at him, holding up a variety of beaded necklaces and armbands while their husbands hawked swords and weapons, waving them in the air. Despite the finery and the beauty of them, Barates paid them no mind, his eyes sweeping over the many sellers and traders with ease before they finally stopped, alighting on the wagon at the very back of the caravan.

It was a plain wagon, covered only by a piece of burlap cloth with a lone horse to its name, but it was like Zeus himself to Barates eyes. Walking towards it with the speed of a desperate man, Barates pushed open the linen cloth covering the entry way to stare at the bearded man inside, face erupting bright smile as he pulled down the hood of his cloak.

“Akakios!”

“Barates?!”

Clambering his way into the wagon with little care to who heard as the man looked both surprised and excited, Barates sat down, reaching over to wrap the man in an affectionate hug, a gesture which was quickly returned.

“I thought you were dead! When Pythios and the others returned without you….” The other Greek broke off, shaking his head with his eyes visibly teary. Fighting back tears of his own, Barates shook his head.

“No.” he replied shortly, “Not dead. Just….displaced.” Not bothering to elaborate anymore on the subject, the redhead leaned forward. “Has anything happened since I disappeared? Have there been any wars? Is there any news on my family? Mother was ill when I left-“

Breaking off as the other man guffawed loudly, waving his arm in the air, Barates gave a sheepish smile, before he leaned back, suitably chastened.

Still smiling broadly at him, Akakios paused, laughter dying off before his face darkened. “Things haven’t been easy since you’ve been gone…”

Face losing some of its cheer, Barates gulped. It took him a moment to reply.

“Tell me.”

*~*~*~*

Head buried in his hands, Barates looked up after what felt like hours, doing his best to avoid looking at Akakios’s pitying gaze. “So…mother is dead…?”

A solemn nod was his answer, and Barates looked away, face white as he sucked at his teeth. “And Pythios-“

"Barely breathes a word about you. Says your dead.”

Cursing beneath his breath as Akakios shook his head with a disgruntled expression, Barates shuddered, composing himself before he grasped the other man’s hand, directing him a thankful look-weak though it was.

“Thank you. It…it does me good to hear of them. Even the sad.”

The older man looked dismayed for a moment before he grabbed Barates arm just as he made a move to exit the wagon. “Barates…..” he struggled for a moment, fumbling for words before he finally shook his head. “…be careful.”

Looking at Akakios’s eyes, Barates paused, silent for a moment before he nodded and displaced the bearded man’s hand with a gentle twist. “I understand.”

Lips twisting into a fond smile despite himself, Akakios snorted before he blinked, calling after Barates’ retreating back. “You’d best keep your head about you-they say gods are running amuck!”

Stepping out of the wagon, Barates sighed, steadying himself before he chanced a look towards the sun. Good, it was still daylight. He hadn’t spent more than an hour speaking to Akakios.

Moving away from the wagon to finally look at the wares, Barates blinked, eyes catching on something in the distance, at the very edge of the caravan. Was that…was that a horse? It was a large creature to be sure, majestic and looking at its back he could see it was unharnessed.

Pausing for a moment to stare at it for a brief second longer, Barates narrowed his eyes before he grinned. Snatching a rope off a nearby table, he ignored its owners annoyed babble as he made his way towards the horse in the distance.

He owed Akakios for the information. What better reward then a horse? And if it refused to be broken well…Barates stomach rumbled, they could always eat it.

Horses were supposed to be quite tasty after all...

[Ra]

For what seemed like hours, Ra stood there watching, listening. The group of people came into the caravan's encampment, each individual branching off to one place or another, bargaining and talking, exchanging tales and coin. Ra's right hind leg bent slightly, relaxing, allowing himself to appear restful. With a lowered, tempered head, he eyed them all with a jealous yet curious gaze. One individual caught his attention almost immediately. A boy, young it seemed, from the look of his manner of walking and the way he carried himself, was like a goat among sheep, saying little and appearing to avoid unnecessary conversation no matter the companion or topic. His attire was less than proper in Ra's eyes, merely rags and shreds of cloth from how he saw it, and it did little to hide the kilt-like garment he wore. He had all the tell-tale signs of a slave trying to avoid capture.

Even more curious to Ra was that the boy rapidly vanished inside one of the wagons. Obviously, he knew the merchant; that, or he was a thief bound for a death sentence. After a few moments of no commotion and the boy's lack of emergence, he figured it was safe to think the people knew each other, but that brought up a whole new array of problems. What would a slave be doing meeting with a merchant of a Greek caravan? While visiting relatives was certainly common, so were whispers of treason. His ears flicked back and forth as he considered this. By now, he had taken a few steps toward the wagon, his muscles tense and eyes wary. Others still glanced his way, and he paid them glances of his own, but no one came toward him. Some looked more suspicious of his presence than anything else.

Truly, only a mere hour passed before the boy finally emerged, and Ra was surprised he himself was still standing there, having moved but a few steps since last spotting the boy. It didn't take long before he was noticed, and Ra's body quivered, his legs moving in place as if uncertain of where to go. At first, he only stared back at the boy, ears pricked forward, tail tossing about behind him. But, when the boy grabbed a nearby rope, Ra quickly reared up on his hind legs, even as far away as he was. Ears flattened against his skull, head shaking violently, he did not appreciate the gesture. He stood his ground, muscles rippling in the sunlight as he pawed the sand on which he stood. Part of him encouraged him to run away, to not let this mortal creature dare attempt his capture, but another part remained curious still, and that's what held him there.

Perhaps this was his chance to become engaged with this intriguing community. It wasn't like he really could be captured or retained. He was no creature of Earth. Would it be so terrible to integrate himself into society even as a simple animal? For sure, the mighty Arabians were prized animals, but still only that. He paused in his thrashing, settling for staring at the boy, eye to eye. He wanted to see if the human recognized that the stallion he wished to capture was looking him in the eye like another human. He wanted to see if the human saw the strange, fiery glint in his eyes that spoke of more than fear or oppression. It was a knowing, a willingness, but more than anything, Ra refused to be taken in only as an animal to be traded or bartered with, and he would not dare do menial tasks such as pull a filthy wagon. No, he wanted any human to recognize that he was something different.

[Barates Aster]

Twirling the rope in his hands with an ease that spoke of years of sailing, Barates slowly approached the horse. It was a magnificent beast to be sure, even from this far off and even when it reared and shook its head violently, Barates could only grin. After all, what was fun was wrangling anything without a challenge? Of course, he’d never wrangled a horse before- but it couldn’t be much more difficult then pulling in a shark -something which the Greek had much more experience in than he’d have liked.

A low hum, meant to be steadying or calming to the beast, built its way up in the slave’s throat as he slowly continued his approach, rope still swinging in his hand. As the horse stopped its thrashing, Barates’ lips quirked-perhaps the humming had calmed it. Having no idea that this was not the case, the Greek slid forward a few more spaces, legs bent slightly at the knees. He still swung the lasso idly in his hands, and making a move to throw it as the beast stalled, the Greek’s eyes narrowed as the horse suddenly looked in the eyes. It was a surprisingly human gesture and though the lasso did not stop spinning, it slowed steadily and Barates scowled, berating himself for being so easily intimidated.

It was-it was just a horse. And animals looked humans in the eyes plenty of times-it…it was dominance, wasn’t it? The scholars back in Athens had said something of the sort, and while he was no Athenian Barates knew what he had to do in this situation.

That is, stare right back, which he did with unabashed determination. However strange the horse’s eyes were-and they were strange, burning with some strange fiery glint that wasn’t quite fear or oppression-he’d not let himself be cowed by any beast. That of course, did not stop the Greek from pausing momentarily, head cocking slightly as he looked the animal right in the eyes. The slave stayed like that for a moment, eyes narrowed curiously before he shrugged, and without further ado, tossed the lasso, aiming for right around the horse’s neck.

Akakios had better be grateful for this. Oh the things he did for his friends.

[Ra]

Ra could see by the way the boy handled the rope that it was a familiar object, perhaps something he used in whatever trade he had been a part of prior to becoming a slave. It did not spook him, however, nor did it deter him from standing where he was. Was the boy seeking a challenge? Was he trying to challenge him? Surely this boy was out of his mind! Ra's eyes grew angry, even a bit annoyed. The ringing sound of the rope as it twirled through the air was like a frustrating, buzzing noise, and at the same time it was humming, calming, but certainly a cause for some bit of anxiety. He did not like the fact that the boy, a mere human, was trying to calm one such as him with a device so often representative of bondage.

The boy seemed to pause when he realized Ra was staring him in the eyes, and for a moment, he thought he would drop the rope, but he was wrong. The boy simply stared back at him with defiance, determined to win the battle between them, between man and beast. The afternoon sun beat down on the stallion's back, glinting brilliantly with such vibrant light. Its warmth sent a tingle of pleasure up and down Ra's spine, and his large body quivered with a sudden excitement. He waited, muscles tense, eyes wary. He waited and watched as the boy twirled the rope, abiding his time. This was actually a bit fun, more fun than he had had in a long time. Then the rope came, tossed out to reach the horse's thick neck.

But, Ra was no normal horse who would rise to greet the lasso. No, he dove forward, head thrusting beneath it to let it slide over his hindquarters. Within seconds, he was right in front of the boy, standing tall over him, nostrils flaring, hooves dashing forward in warning, head tossing, eyes burning. He did not hurt the boy, though. He only meant to intimidate, his large form having charged the human, threatening to thunder into him, to kill him. His teeth lashed out at the boy's hand, snatching the rope and yanking it back with such strength no man could ever match. He was not to be messed with. He was not to be tamed or roped. Not this stallion. Not Ra.

[Barates Aster]

Barates barely had time to yelp as the horse dove forward, head thrusting beneath the rope swinging through the air so that the lasso dragged over its hindquarters and within seconds, the great beast was right in front of him. Nostrils flaring, head tossing and eyes burning like the fires within the pits of Tartarus, the beast was a frightening sight and stumbling back to catch his footing, Barates could only shout in protest as the great bests’ teeth lashed out at his hand, snatching the rope within his very grip and pulling it back with a strength he could never hope to match. Dragged forward as he refused to let go, Barates grit his teeth, fighting back both a panicked yelp and laughter at the rising challenge, Barates dug his feet into the sand only to find that the small granules held little friction.

Still, he refused to let go, hanging on for dear life and tightening his grip until with a muted curse in his native tongue, he finally released the rope, stumbling back a few steps and hoping that the sudden lack of pressure on the other side would cause the beast to falter as well.

“My, my, you’re no ordinary horse now are you…”

Lips twisting into a frown as he waved his burning hands that though softened slightly from life in Egypt were still thankfully calloused enough where he didn’t get rope-burn, Barates couldn’t help but praise the beast despite his annoyance at having his lasso taken away. Thoughts flew through his mind-okay, so the rope was a no go. That much was obvious-but there were other ways to catch a horse. Taking a few steadying steps back, Barates scowled-no horse would beat him.

Slave or not, he was Greek.

Better than that, he was a Cretan- a Minoan one at that.

He paused, took a breath, and then charged, running through the sliding sand to the side of the horse’s flank, and with a stumbling lunge, he jumped forward, aiming to get on the beast's back. If he couldn’t lasso him, he could at the very least tire him down.

[Ra]

The stallion stumbled back slightly when the boy finally released the rope, but not enough to lose his balance. The rope flew from his teeth as he heard the slave boy speak in Greek, and his slight surprise at hearing it cost him greatly. His body tensed when he saw the boy moving suddenly toward him, again surprised at his willingness to actually run up to him, to dive into the danger he must have known was waiting for him. Feeling weight on his back was all it took to send him into a frenzy. Swerving to the right, he did not wait to feel the boy's hands on his mane before he bolted forward, sending sand flying behind him.

His hind legs flew up as he kicked high into the air, nearly toppling forward with the momentum of his movement. How dare this mortal attempt to mount him! The audacity of it all infuriated the being, and his wild, shrill cries echoed that fury. The boy was asking for an experience of a lifetime, surely, but did he have a death wish? Ra had seen how slaves were treated in Egypt. He knew some were desperate to escape the lives they led. How desperate was this boy? How far would he go to escape slavery? Whether or not the swerve and that kick sent the riser flying, he dove right into a full gallop, running off away from the camp and toward the depths of the desert.