The Dreams of Morpheus

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Authors: Robert Fabbri
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between it and the stola. He noticed Terentius rise and walk past him; he heard the door open just as he discovered a fascinating new angle at which to hold the goblet. Then voices, followed by the soft click of the door reclosing. Terentius swished past him, a blur of blue motion – so beautiful, blue. The decanter glided towards him, it tipped; the glug of pouring wine so slow and regular. The taste of the wine, sublime. He looked up to thank Terentius; Terentius smiled down, his hands touching Magnus’ shoulders. His palla was gone; there was no crimson, only blue. And then there was no blue, just cream flesh, and Magnus understood. He heard the door creak open and soft voices approached from behind him; he felt his belt being unfastened. He raised his goblet and finished the last of the wine; it was taken from him as he sluiced the liquid around his mouth and allowed his tunic to be pulled over his head. A soft hand on his chest eased him back on to the cushions on the couch – soft, smooth and warm, so warm. He felt the hand stroke his hair and he opened his eyes; Terentius stood over him, his skin sheened with the glow of the brazier, and then he sat, revealing two more figures, lissom and delicate, one blond and one dark – both naked. One held out the knives; Magnus sucked in the spirallingsmoke, holding it deep. As he laid his head down, feeling the sweet touch of multiple caresses, he saw the gates to the realm of Morpheus open and, with absolute calm and contentment, he floated forward to sample the dreams therein.
    A damp cloth, warm and fragrant, dabbing his brow brought him back. For a while he did not open his eyes, content to enjoy the sensation of being cleansed.
    â€˜What did you think?’ Terentius whispered.
    What did he think? He cast his mind back: the images, the colours, the acts, the abandon, the release, the pleasure; all as he had never experienced before. ‘Well, it weren’t natural and yet it seemed to come so easy, if you take my meaning?’
    â€˜I do, Magnus; and now do you see how so much money could be made out of this?’
    â€˜Fortunes.’ Magnus opened his eyes; Terentius was dressed and his hair pulled back into a ponytail. ‘But I doubt that you’d be able to afford even one tablet.’
    â€˜How much are they each?’
    â€˜I don’t know exactly, but more than gold. I’m going to—’ He sat up and looked around; early light crept in through the window. ‘What time is it?’
    â€˜Halfway through the first hour of the day.’
    â€˜Shit! Where are my clothes? And get me one of the tablets. Are Marius and Sextus still here?’
    Terentius handed Magnus his tunic, belt and loincloth. ‘Yes, I’ve had them woken and they’ve been served breakfast.’
    â€˜Served breakfast? They don’t have time for that.’
    Within moments Magnus had dressed, strapped on his sandals and, with a tablet wrapped in sackcloth under his arm and Terentius following behind, was walking at a rapid pace through the garden. ‘Come to the tavern at dusk and I’ll have a reasonable idea as to how much the tablets are worth; meanwhile you work out how much you think you can make from each one; then we’ll know whether it’s viable.’
    â€˜I’ll be there,’ Terentius confirmed as they passed through into the atrium.
    â€˜No time for that, lads,’ Magnus said, grabbing a hunk of bread from the table at which Marius and Sextus were breaking their fast in delightful company. ‘We’re almost late.’ He hurried on through the room and into the vestibule. Postumus opened the door and Magnus stepped out into the street with his brothers following. As he headed at a brisk walk towards the Caelian Hill and the meeting at the House of the Moon in the stonemasons’ street, he addressed Marius and Sextus without looking at them. ‘I think it would be best all round if we

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