"He never hesitated to commit an act of cruelty to please his family."
"Never?"
Tabitha watched the mirror as it again showed her Valerius as a child. He was around the age of eight, lying in bed asleep. Her heart pounded at the peaceful, sweet sight he posed.
Until his bedroom door was slung open.
Valerius jerked upright as lamplight cut across him.
His father seized him from the bed and literally threw him to the ground. Valerius looked at his father and then to the one who held the lamp.
It was Markus.
"What is this?" his father asked as he threw a blanket at Valerius.
Valerius turned pale.
"What is that blanket, Zarek?" Ash asked.
Zarek's blue eyes turned cold. "It's the piece of shit old horse blanket that the little bastard gave to me one winter night and I was beaten for it."
"Valerius!" his father shouted as he slapped the boy. "Answer me."
"B-b-blanket."
"I saw him give it to the slave, Father," Markus said. "So did Marius. He didn't want the slave to be cold."
"Is this true?"
Valerius looked horrified.
"Is it true!"
Valerius swallowed. "He was c-c-c-cold."
"Was he now?" his father sneered, "Well, better a slave to suffer than you, is it not? Perhaps it's time you learn that lesson, boy."
Before Valerius could move, his father tore his clothes from him, then wrenched him up by his thin arm and hauled him from the room. Completely naked, Valerius was taken outside, where his father tied him to a hitching post. It was so cold that their breaths formed icy clouds around them.
"P-p-pl-"
Valerius's plea was cut short by another vicious backhand. "We're Roman, boy. We don't beg for mercy from anyone. For that you'll be beaten even more come morning. If you live through the night."
Shaking from the cold, Valerius bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering.
Markus laughed at him. "I think you're being too kind, Father."
"Don't question me, Markus, unless you wish to join him."
Markus's laughter died instantly. Without another word or looking back, the two of them turned back toward the house and left Valerius outside alone.
The small boy sank to his knees while he tried to loosen his hands. It was no use. "I swear I'll be a good Roman," he whispered quietly. "I will."
The scene faded.
"You're not convincing me, Acheron," Zarek said coldly. "I still think he's a ruthless bastard who deserves nothing."
"Then how about this?"