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The Price of Freedom

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--- The Scourging

Martina’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the torchlight that bathed the open space of the auction yard. Her ears were filled with the raucous laughter and shouts of the Romans, but her eyes only saw horrors. Two posts had been erected in the center of the courtyard, a set of chains hung from a notch on top of each post. Martina watched as two pairs of legionaries unshackled the unfortunate souls bound to the pillars. Both nude figure were lacerated and bloodied. Martina heard Chaya gasp as the first pair of legionaries dragged a nude woman past, her head hanging limply and her entire body scourged. The other victim, a man, staggered behind under his own power as the second pair of legionaries prodded him along. Martina looked over her shoulder as she heard the man stumble. He laid flat on his stomach, drenched in a liquid that pooled around him. While one guard hoisted him up forcibly, the other pointed towards the balcony above and cursed. Martina was able to glance briefly a clutch of legionaries laughing heartily, pouring jugs of wine over the balcony, soaking not only the condemned but their comrade as well.

As the women were edged closer to the whipping post, the dim roar of the drunken soldiers turned into a cacophony of jeers and catcalls. The noise became deafening when a man dressed in nothing but a centurions’ helmet and a soldiers belt, the decrative cingulum militare, entered the arena from a door to the right of the women. The stout, bald man walked the perimeter of the courtyard, pointing and jeering to the other legionaries, riling them up for the next bloodletting. The centurion smiled wickedly and his eyes were wide with drunkenness as he stopped in front of the pair of women. The crowd hushed. Martina and Chaya stood meekly before him as he studied their bodies lustfully with his gaze. Suddenly, the centurion seemed to reach the entire length of his body to grab the front of each women’s tunic, and in one swift motion pulled them down revealing the breasts and torsos of each woman. Martina gasped at the sudden shock and heard the soldiers erupt with applause as the centurion turned around and did an exaggerated bow to balcony. The legionaries escorting Martina and Chaya finished the centurion's work and soon the two women stood naked and were hustled towards the awaiting posts. Martina offered no resistance the shackles were cinched around her wrists and pulled taut so she stood straight against the post; the blood of its’ last victim was still spattered against the chipped wood and Martina tried to push herself as far away from the wet patches. “What have I done to deserve this.”, Martina thought. Chaya struggled valiantly but soon found herself shacked as well. The stakes were set in line with each other, and Martina locked eyes with Chaya but couldn’t muster anything to say.

Behind them, the voice of the centurion cut through the exuberance of the soldiery, “Boys, we’ve come to the final course of this bacchanalian evening!”. Martina heard his footsteps coming closer, “We have, if I may say, two ravenous rebels”. Martina jumped as the centurions’ bear paw smacked her ass to the enjoyment of the crowd. “Ravenous until we work our rough shot magic upon them!”. Martina’s heart felt like it would burst as the crowd reached a frenzy only to be quieted again by the centurion. “Who best to work our magic upon these rebels than my right hand, Septimius Casca.”, this drew slight applause from the soldiers, and the centurion continued, “and also a humble legionnaire, who left his home in Alexandria to fight with us, one of the first over the walls of Babylon, our own Publius Voluminus!”. The onlooking legionaries burst into chants for their comrade, ”Publius!, Publius!, Publius! “. Martina saw a young man with a tall, slender, almost graceful, build slowly step forward from the wall which he was leaning on. He seemed hesitant as he approached Martina. As he drew closer, she could see some of her own fear in his eyes as well. The pair kept their gaze as he passed by her right side, and the young soldier only broke eye contact as the centurion intercepted his path. “Don’t be too gentle.”, he said as he handed a wicked barbed flagellum to Publius. Soon, both floggers stood behind the women and the crowd waited eagerly for the centurion to signal the beginning of the women’s ordeal.

“Begin!”, the centurion boomed.

Chaya’s scream overlapped with the centurion’s command as the first stroke hit her center mass, curling around her body so the tips lashed at her stomach and ribs. Martina looked over at her agonized friend and fresh tears ran down her dirt caked face as Chaya squirmed desperately as the lashes came down like a torrent. Martina braced herself for her own agony, but it didn’t come.

Martina glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see Publius. Something lightly nipped her buttocks, then a few moments later another nip at the back of her calf. The whip barely made contact with the skin each pass. Martina inhaled sharply as one of the barbs hooked itself into her side on an errant strike. The whip seemed to slacken and wriggle as if an unseen hand was trying to carefully remove the annoyance. Chaya was barely standing and cried out in Hebrew as her torment multiplied with each passing stroke. Time seemed to pass slowly as Martina shifted uncomfortably, mainly due to the chains that pulled her arms and shoulders taut, while the whip scratched at her backside. “Publius, put some effort into it. Remember who these whores are. You think they gave a fuck about your family?”, the centurion yelled out amidst the jests of the other legionaries.

The next stroke was harder. Martina let out a shrill cry as the whip struck her right hip and was shortly followed by a strike on the other side. The intensity grew with each stroke, and the blows landed rapidly with little precision. A hit center mass was followed by a crippling strike on the tender flesh of the inner thigh. Martina screamed and moaned in pain as Publius’ lashes arched over every inch of her back, legs, and sides. Her senses narrowed to the sensation of pain as skin and muscles tore; her vision seemed to blur as if drunk and the sound of the jeering legionaries mixed with her and Chaya’s screams was drowned out. She let herself hang limply as Publius’ attack continued unabated. Straining to lift her head up, she saw that Chaya had been flipped over so that her front was now exposed to the cruelty of her torturer. She hung limply from one wrist, her legs couldn’t bear the strain which caused her to turn inward slightly as she dangled from her chained wrist. Optio Casa stood within arm’s reach to push her back against the post, hacking at her breasts, stomach and thighs before her momentum caused her to turn again.

The whipping was over as abruptly as it began, and the courtyard slowly went silent again as the legionaries retired for the evening. Martina heard Chaya’s body thud to the ground as it was released from the remaining manacle. She heard the gravel shift as Chaya was dragged back to the holding pens, then Martina was alone.
 
Bh5 said:
--- The Scourging

Martina’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the torchlight that bathed the open space of the auction yard. Her ears were filled with the raucous laughter and shouts of the Romans, but her eyes only saw horrors. Two posts had been erected in the center of the courtyard, a set of chains hung from a notch on top of each post. Martina watched as two pairs of legionaries unshackled the unfortunate souls bound to the pillars. Both nude figure were lacerated and bloodied. Martina heard Chaya gasp as the first pair of legionaries dragged a nude woman past, her head hanging limply and her entire body scourged. The other victim, a man, staggered behind under his own power as the second pair of legionaries prodded him along. Martina looked over her shoulder as she heard the man stumble. He laid flat on his stomach, drenched in a liquid that pooled around him. While one guard hoisted him up forcibly, the other pointed towards the balcony above and cursed. Martina was able to glance briefly a clutch of legionaries laughing heartily, pouring jugs of wine over the balcony, soaking not only the condemned but their comrade as well.

As the women were edged closer to the whipping post, the dim roar of the drunken soldiers turned into a cacophony of jeers and catcalls. The noise became deafening when a man dressed in nothing but a centurions’ helmet and a soldiers belt, the decrative cingulum militare, entered the arena from a door to the right of the women. The stout, bald man walked the perimeter of the courtyard, pointing and jeering to the other legionaries, riling them up for the next bloodletting. The centurion smiled wickedly and his eyes were wide with drunkenness as he stopped in front of the pair of women. The crowd hushed. Martina and Chaya stood meekly before him as he studied their bodies lustfully with his gaze. Suddenly, the centurion seemed to reach the entire length of his body to grab the front of each women’s tunic, and in one swift motion pulled them down revealing the breasts and torsos of each woman. Martina gasped at the sudden shock and heard the soldiers erupt with applause as the centurion turned around and did an exaggerated bow to balcony. The legionaries escorting Martina and Chaya finished the centurion's work and soon the two women stood naked and were hustled towards the awaiting posts. Martina offered no resistance the shackles were cinched around her wrists and pulled taut so she stood straight against the post; the blood of its’ last victim was still spattered against the chipped wood and Martina tried to push herself as far away from the wet patches. “What have I done to deserve this.”, Martina thought. Chaya struggled valiantly but soon found herself shacked as well. The stakes were set in line with each other, and Martina locked eyes with Chaya but couldn’t muster anything to say.

Behind them, the voice of the centurion cut through the exuberance of the soldiery, “Boys, we’ve come to the final course of this bacchanalian evening!”. Martina heard his footsteps coming closer, “We have, if I may say, two ravenous rebels”. Martina jumped as the centurions’ bear paw smacked her ass to the enjoyment of the crowd. “Ravenous until we work our rough shot magic upon them!”. Martina’s heart felt like it would burst as the crowd reached a frenzy only to be quieted again by the centurion. “Who best to work our magic upon these rebels than my right hand, Septimius Casca.”, this drew slight applause from the soldiers, and the centurion continued, “and also a humble legionnaire, who left his home in Alexandria to fight with us, one of the first over the walls of Babylon, our own Publius Voluminus!”. The onlooking legionaries burst into chants for their comrade, ”Publius!, Publius!, Publius! “. Martina saw a young man with a tall, slender, almost graceful, build slowly step forward from the wall which he was leaning on. He seemed hesitant as he approached Martina. As he drew closer, she could see some of her own fear in his eyes as well. The pair kept their gaze as he passed by her right side, and the young soldier only broke eye contact as the centurion intercepted his path. “Don’t be too gentle.”, he said as he handed a wicked barbed flagellum to Publius. Soon, both floggers stood behind the women and the crowd waited eagerly for the centurion to signal the beginning of the women’s ordeal.

“Begin!”, the centurion boomed.

Chaya’s scream overlapped with the centurion’s command as the first stroke hit her center mass, curling around her body so the tips lashed at her stomach and ribs. Martina looked over at her agonized friend and fresh tears ran down her dirt caked face as Chaya squirmed desperately as the lashes came down like a torrent. Martina braced herself for her own agony, but it didn’t come.

Martina glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see Publius. Something lightly nipped her buttocks, then a few moments later another nip at the back of her calf. The whip barely made contact with the skin each pass. Martina inhaled sharply as one of the barbs hooked itself into her side on an errant strike. The whip seemed to slacken and wriggle as if an unseen hand was trying to carefully remove the annoyance. Chaya was barely standing and cried out in Hebrew as her torment multiplied with each passing stroke. Time seemed to pass slowly as Martina shifted uncomfortably, mainly due to the chains that pulled her arms and shoulders taut, while the whip scratched at her backside. “Publius, put some effort into it. Remember who these whores are. You think they gave a fuck about your family?”, the centurion yelled out amidst the jests of the other legionaries.

The next stroke was harder. Martina let out a shrill cry as the whip struck her right hip and was shortly followed by a strike on the other side. The intensity grew with each stroke, and the blows landed rapidly with little precision. A hit center mass was followed by a crippling strike on the tender flesh of the inner thigh. Martina screamed and moaned in pain as Publius’ lashes arched over every inch of her back, legs, and sides. Her senses narrowed to the sensation of pain as skin and muscles tore; her vision seemed to blur as if drunk and the sound of the jeering legionaries mixed with her and Chaya’s screams was drowned out. She let herself hang limply as Publius’ attack continued unabated. Straining to lift her head up, she saw that Chaya had been flipped over so that her front was now exposed to the cruelty of her torturer. She hung limply from one wrist, her legs couldn’t bear the strain which caused her to turn inward slightly as she dangled from her chained wrist. Optio Casa stood within arm’s reach to push her back against the post, hacking at her breasts, stomach and thighs before her momentum caused her to turn again.

The whipping was over as abruptly as it began, and the courtyard slowly went silent again as the legionaries retired for the evening. Martina heard Chaya’s body thud to the ground as it was released from the remaining manacle. She heard the gravel shift as Chaya was dragged back to the holding pens, then Martina was alone.
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Whew!!!!! :very_hot:
 
--- Promises Kept

Martina’s mind was cloudy in the aftermath of her scourging, and she barely registered the coolness of the night as she remained fixed to the whipping post. The hand that yanked her head back by the hair brought her careening back into the present moment. The torchlight of the courtyard was nearly absent now, and she struggled to make out the strangers’ darkened face. “Hey, leave her be! The Trubuni wants her alive.”, she heard the centurion bark from afar. The mysterious figure let go of her hair, and Martina’s head dropped to her chest again as the stranger shuffled away.

Sometime later, Martina was again stirred by the sound of voices. “You sure she’s the one?”, a vaguely familiar voice said softly nearby. “Yes sir. No doubt in my mind.”, the centurion responded in a similarly hushed tone. Soon the illumination of a torch began to break the darkness of Martina’s surrounding. Martina squinted involuntarily as one of the men raised the torch close to her face. As she gradually opened her eyes, she saw a bald, one eyed man staring back at her. The sole blue scanned her intently as the man covered his mouth with his free hand. He looked at her for a moment more before stammering, “Martina, could it really be you?”. Martina searched the recesses of her mind for this stranger, but her battered condition diminished her mental faculties. She stared blankly back as the man continued, “Sweet Fortuna, you have delivered me my Martina!”, he said barely containing himself. “Please say something. Oh Martina please say something. Anything! Don’t you remember me…Marinus”, he pleaded as he reached out to touch her face.

Could this stranger really be Marinus? No, certainly not, Marinus had died years ago. But what if? Martina’s mind tried to rid itself of the haze as Marinus turned on the centurion sharply. “You had your man nearly beat her to death. You’d consider yourself lucky if I give you any payment after what you did to her. Look how much blood she’s lost!”, Marinus said hotly to the centurion who stood just outside of the torchlight.

“I had to make it believable; plus most of that blood isn’t even hers. I knew the boy wouldn’t be too rough with her. Now, I held up my side of the bargain. Remember that we could both end up on crosses if we both don’t follow through on our deal.”, the centurion replied coolly.

“Fine, go get the horse. I’ll take care of her.”, Marinus instructed sternly. The centurion’s footsteps faded as Marinus undid Martina’s binds. The poor woman fell limply to the dirt, and Marinus quickly came to her side. Wrapping her in his cloak, he carried Martina in his arms away from the post into the dark.

“Marinus? Could it really be?”, Martina let out weakly.

“Shh, we’re almost free. Just hang on.”, Marinus reassured as he carried Martina to the entrance of the auction yard. Martina heard the centurions’ voice again and the soft snorting of a horse. “Rest of the legion is moving west to clear out the rest of the Egyptian quarter at dawn. Go east out of the city then head south and you’ll be able to avoid most patrols.”, the centurion said hastily. Both men helped Martina onto the back of the horse, and Marinus soon pushed himself up onto the stallion, looping Martina’s arms around his waist as he did. “Hang on tightly.”, he whispered to her. The centurion guided the reins of the horse, leading Marinus and Martina out onto the deserted street.

Once on the street, Marinus extended his hand to the centurion for the reins. “Ah, remember our deal”, the centurion said, “where’s the vault?”. Marinus scoffed at the officer’s baseness. “In Tertius’ villa, there is a statue of Saturn in the grand bedroom. If it still stands, slide the statue aside to find a key which will open Tertius’s vault in the municipal building. There should be enough wealth in there for several lifetimes.”. Satisfied, the centurion smiled and handed Marinus the reins, which he snatched quickly. Without waiting a moment longer, Marinus spurred the horse with his heels, and the reunited lovers rode swiftly into the night.
 
Bh5 said:
I hope Deus Ex Machina's aren't punishable here on the forums. We're approaching the end, but Martina isn't out of the woods yet.
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I probably like suspense, and stories that don't follow an entirely predictable arc, more than I'd be bothered by the appearance of a 'deus ex machina' in a story. One problem sometimes is that when characters are introduced in a story and they happen to be female, we alreay know their fate, so sometimes giving one of them the appearance of a chance spices things up...
 
--- A steep price

The next morning Martina woke up to a dull pain that encompassed her entire body. Her arms and shoulders were stiff and she struggled to push herself onto her elbows from her position on the floor. She watched passively as Marinus moved with purpose in the front room of the abandoned house they had sheltered in. Marinus looked intently into an array of sacks, nodding his head or glancing into space as if to ponder the inventory of a certain item, before taking the bags outside. The neighborhood was long abandoned and was silent except for caw of crows or occasional clop of hooves as the horse pawed at the cobblestone. Marinus ferried the last several bags outside before coming over to Martina.

In the light, Martina saw that Marinus’ youthful vigor was now gone, and he looked decades older than when she had last seen him. He had discarded his armor from the night before and now wore a simple green tunic that matched the color of the cloth bandage that covered his right eye. His muscular arms bore new scars that snaked like rivers across his now tanned skin. She studied the new form of her savior as he knelt beside her. Wordlessly, Marinus leaned over her and lifted the cloak that still covered her brutalized body. Martina looked for any sign indicating her true condition on Marinus’ face, but the hardened man showed no emotion as he carefully replaced the sheet. Gently, he reached his arms under Martina and lifted her off the ground, cradling her. She winced as skin tore from the posture change, and she appreciated when Marinus hurriedly carried her out the door so to minimize any pain.

As they rode away from the home, Martina recognized the now desolate structures of the Jewish quarter. The pair rode in silence as they passed streets that Martina had once roamed; the old storehouse was nothing but ash, but Martina felt little remorse for Alexios' business. Soon, Marinus led them onto the Canopic way and they joined a grim procession.

Walking at odd intervals, single file, down the Canopic way were seemingly hundreds of condemned rebels. The pitiful looking rabble, each burdened by a crossbeam, plodded after one another like lemmings to the slaughter. The nudity of the condemned disgusted Martina, but she couldn't help but watch as the hundreds of nude men and women marched proudly to their execution. Most seemed passive to their fate and marched without guard, following the man or woman in front of them towards the great gate at the eastern end of the city. A few legionaries walked alongside the column or stood waiting at intervals, flogging those that fell under the weight of their cross or flogging the passing condemned out of pure sadism.

Dozens of Romans milled along the wide avenue watching the macabre spectacle. Occasionally, an onlooker cried out rebukes and taunts at a former slave or business partner, but these outbursts lacked the gaiety of the soldiers the night before and the condemned seemed to care little to the added degradation. Marinus had no trouble guiding the horse in between the groups of citizens that were clustered in the road or next to the ruins of once prosperous businesses. Soon, the pair crossed under the Canopic arc, still pocketed with arrows and scorch marks from the siege.

The road leading out of Alexandria was lined with crosses to the horizon. The crosses near the gates were all occupied. Martina and Marinus followed the condemned as they marched silently past crosses now occupied by their comrades; now in the final, agonizing chapter of their own existences. The marching condemned rarely looked at their crucified fellows as if to spare themselves the sight of what would soon befall them, but the screams and moans of the crucified filled the air and must have alluded to the impending fate of the passersby's.

Martina watched solemnly as they passed one horrible scene after another. Each of the crucified portrayed their agony differently: some danced wildly as if hoping to free themselves, others plead for mercy as they were passed by, while some argued with their neighbors. But most hung silently from their crosses.

The overwhelming number of condemned gave the executioners ample opportunity to experiment with their sadism. Martina saw men and women crucified in a number of ways that that shocked her even after her own ordeals: inverted crosses, x- crosses, condemned nailed facing the wood. All the victims shared two things in common however: their nudity and a titilus that read “Sedition” in hastily scribbled print.

Available stipes became more common as they passed the hippodrome, where dozens of rebels now hung crucified along the perimeter of the great arena. A clutch of legionaries scurried amongst the empty uprights, and Martina watched the cold, calculated process that the soldiers employed with a grave interest. A pair would grab a prisoner as they reached the site and quickly lead them to an available upright. A few legionaries would be already waiting near the vertical post. The work was methodical, and the nailing began nearly as soon as the prisoner was pushed to the ground. The combined group would then raise the crossbeam and the affixed victim onto the stipes. The legionnaires would again split into two groups as the prisoner’s feet were finally affixed to the upright. Those that moved away first would grab the next available prisoner while others would move to the next stipes once the last execution was completed. Marinus noticed other legionaries lounging in the grass nearby, ready to fill in for any comrade that tired from the strenuous task.

Marinus kept them moving at a brisk pace as they passed through the scene. He tried to avoid eye contact with the milling legionaries to prevent any chance of being recognized. Once past the hippodrome, the pair came to a stretch of road where only a few crosses were occupied. Marinus focused his attention further down the road, easily ignoring the suffering figures a few feet away. He startled when he felt Martina’s grip tightened around his waist. “Marinus, wait.”, she said hoarsely as he slowed the horse to a stop. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Martina fixed on the slumped figure of a crucified woman just a few feet away. The woman was badly scourged and hung limply from her nailed wrists; her legs were splayed wide and nailed to sides of the upright at uneven heights. “Chaya”, he heard Martina whisper sadly. Marinus looked around and saw the legionaries were distracted with the newest batch of condemned. He goaded the horse alongside the crucified woman so Martina sat in front of Chaya nearly at eye level.

Marinus remained silent as Martina reached out and lifted the chin of her crucified friend. “Oh Chaya”, she sobbed hoarsely as she brushed the matted hair off Chaya’s forehead. Chaya still lived and mustered a weak smile when she saw the familiar face in front of her. “Martina, listen to me.”, Chaya said between labored breaths as tears ran down Martina’s face. “I’m paying the price of my freedom. Don’t waste your freedom. Please go.”. Marinus was moved at the compassion of the crucified slave. “Just don’t forget me.”, Chaya completed as she let her head hang limp again.

“No, we can get you down. We’re going to figure something out I promise.”, Martina said frantically, glancing between the large metal spikes that pinned Chaya to her cross. Martina seemed paralyzed for a moment before she turned quickly to Marinus with fresh tears in her eye, “Please, my love, for my sake, can we do something to ease her suffering?”. Marinus looked skeptically around, he had no weapons on him for fear of rousing suspicion in case they were stopped. He studied the crucified woman and saw a short peg protruding just above her tailbone from the upright, a cornu. The devilish wooden plug would prolong the suffering but she would be able to breathe easier. With her scourging Marinus wagered that she wouldn’t last much longer with the cornu regardless. “The best we can do is make sure she’s as comfortable as she can be in her last few hours.”, Marinus said grimly. Martina tried to stifle her sobs as she nodded in agreement.

Marinus dismounted swiftly and reached under Chaya’s butt. She barely whimpered as he lifted her up onto the wooden phallus. Martina watched nervously as Marinus spread Chaya’s cheeks to insert the gnarly wooden peg into her rectum. Realizing what was happening, Chaya let out a cry in protest and Marinus stopped. Looking up at Martina, he saw her nod swiftly and with a heave he forced the wooden peg past the resistance offered by Chaya’s tight hole. She screamed pitifully as she tried to adjust to the insertion. Martina and Marinus sat helpless as they watched her struggle in silence. “I’m sorry Chaya. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”, Martina said softly to herself. Chaya squirmed a little longer until the pain was bearable then hung silently. Her chest barely rising with her breath.

In the distance, Marinus heard men shouting, and soon two javelins bounced harmlessly along the cobblestone a few feet away. Still too close for comfort. Marinus quickly remounted, and soon the pair set off at a gallop away from Alexandria. Martina turned to watch Chaya until she was barely visible as Marinus hounded them east away from the wretched place.
 
--- Freedom

The harbor of Mysos Hormos was as rank as that of Alexandria, and equally as chaotic. Ships from India had docked the day before, and the harbor was abuzz with traders trying to get their hands on the latest shipment of exotic luxuries. The merchants that cried and touted their wares along the dirt road that abutted the main dock paid little attention to the bald, pregnant woman that snaked her way through the crowd. To them, she was just another oddity of the port that was bursting with whores, exotic slaves, and luxury items from beyond the borders of the empire.

Martina jostled through the multitude and listened to the scuttlebutt about another Jewish rebellion, this time in Judea itself, and of the new emperor that was keen to put it down. Such news mattered little to Martina as she perched herself along the embankment that led into down into the harbor. She looked out into the murky waters of the sea before her, and tenderly touched her growing belly. Her pregnancy had focused her mind and she was gradually starting to feel like the vibrant woman that had once seduced a patrician. She was lost in her happiness when she felt a tender grip on her shoulder. She touched Marinus’ hand without looking away from her bump and leaned against him.

“I spoke to our captain in the tavern, and he says there will be no problems leaving. We should arrive in India in two months at most depending on the tides. He says there’s a merchant colony there. We have enough coin to live off of for a while”, he said with a smirk,” but maybe we can open our own shop to keep busy.”.

“I think we’ll be busy enough with little Chaya.”, Martina said dreamily as she toyed with the loose fabric around her bump.

“Or little Tertius”, Marinus added playfully. Martina looked up at him and smiled, “Will I be able to grow my hair out then?”

“Yes, you know we just did that as a precaution.”, he said tenderly. The lovers stood looking out at the water for a little while before Marinus spoke again, “Maybe someday we can even come back here.”, he said with a tinge of longing in his voice.

“I don’t think I want that.”, Martina said as the couple glanced at each other once more. Marinus nodded a few times and they stood silently pressed against each other again, looking out over the water. Martina and Marinus stood for a moment longer before clasping hands and walking down the embankment towards the ship that would take them to their new life.

FIN
 
Hi all,
Firstly, I would like to thank those of you that followed this story through it's entirety, and I hope you enjoyed it! @old slave who said stories on the forums couldn't have a (somewhat) happy ending? As I said in a previous post, I could have spent a little more time on this story, but I hope you still found enjoyment in it regardless. As always I love hearing your feedback. Maybe one day I'll write an updated version, or actually invest some time in making more manips. Until next time
-Bh5
 
Bh5 said:
I hope you enjoyed it! @old slave who said stories on the forums couldn't have a (somewhat) happy ending?
Click to expand...
I think you wrote a very well balanced story, plenty of suffering, making it uncertain whether either or both would survive, meeting Chaya at the end was sensitively done, a pregnancy was an unexpected addition, and I learnt for the first time about Indian sea-trade with Egypt.
 
Bh5 said:
Hi all,
Firstly, I would like to thank those of you that followed this story through it's entirety, and I hope you enjoyed it! @old slave who said stories on the forums couldn't have a (somewhat) happy ending? As I said in a previous post, I could have spent a little more time on this story, but I hope you still found enjoyment in it regardless. As always I love hearing your feedback. Maybe one day I'll write an updated version, or actually invest some time in making more manips. Until next time
-Bh5
Click to expand...
Really enjoyed that. I think the half-happy ending was a pretty nice touch. And that last march of the rebels and Chaya's fate was beautiful and intoxicating.
 
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