The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate (45 page)

Anaxantis looked at him with gratitude.

“I know you would, Hemarchidas. I know you would, but I can't.”

“Why? Kill him already and have it over and done with. Then you can start forgetting... or at least leave it behind you.”

“I can't, my friend, I can't.”

“But why? Why not?”

Anaxantis hesitated and let out a long sigh.

“I said I would tell you everything. So... for better or for worse, here goes. The simple truth is I can't, because I love him.”

Hemarchidas, who had thought he had heard the most important part already, startled.

“You love him?” he said uncomprehending. “Of course you love your brother, but this... this brute is not... this...”

“No,” Anaxantis said calmly. “You don't understand. I
love
him.”

And then Hemarchidas did understand, and his whole world collapsed upon itself. Anaxantis wasn't unattached as he had thought. Anaxantis was in love. With his brother. With the man who had raped him. And he, Hemarchidas, had been a fool, waiting patiently and silently all those months. Hoping. Longing. He thanked the Gods he hadn't dared dream beyond the point where he declared his love for Anaxantis. But the fact remained he had lost the battle for the affection of his love to a vulgar rapist. He groaned. He realized suddenly that he probably never had stood a chance. It was all decided long ago, long before they even met.

“And now you are disgusted with me,” Anaxantis stated resignedly.

“What?” Hemarchidas asked, emerging out of his self-involved brooding. “No, no, Anaxantis, I learned a long time ago that we don't rule our hearts, but that they rule us. It is not what I expected, sure enough, but who am I to judge?”

“In my tribe I was longtime considered a pervert for having feelings for other guys. I would have been an outcast, were it not for Lethoras. No, my love, I know unusual and unusual knows me. And I know the unpredictable obstinateness of the heart. I am not going to judge you. You are an extraordinary man and you have the right to be extraordinary in your likes and loves. It is the fact that I never even got a chance, that, without knowing it, I had lost the race before it even began, that I wasn't even there at the start, that is what I mourn.”

“Ehandar used to say that we're not even half brothers, most likely,” Anaxantis said sadly. “That mother... you know.”

“You love him and you hate him.”

“I love him. And I hate him because he made me hate that love. Because he made me hate him.”

He looked up at Hemarchidas, his blue-gray eyes filled with sadness.

“You know,” he continued, “all that he did... if he had told me... if he had but said that he liked it like that... I would have given it to him. Gladly. I would have let him do it. Beat me, humiliate me, degrade me, use his belt on my bare ass, rip the clothes of my body and take me brutally on the table... Even piss on me. I would have let him do it all, if he had said that it was what he needed. Or that it just was what he liked... I loved him so much... that much. You must think me such a pervert. All that and with my brother too.”

“No, no, if possible I admire you more now than before, my love—”

Hemarchidas bit his lip and blushed. Anaxantis smiled wryly and pressed his hand.

“My friend, I meant my friend... I can't imagine how you managed to carry on. To remain standing. After all that... and losing your love at the same stroke. And look what you accomplished in the face of all that befell you. You're not a victim. A horrible thing was done to you and you used it to become stronger. Not to forget, you took down that sick beast. What is there not to admire in all this. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Anaxantis smiled weakly. “Mother would say that we can't always be in charge of what happens to us, but that we always have a choice in how we react to it.”

He sighed.

“Forgive me, I probably sound callous,” Hemarchidas said softly, “but can't you just decide? Just decide to go past your hate or past your love?”

“You have no idea what this is costing me, but I am your friend and it needs to be said.”

“Either forgive him and make up,” he continued, “or slay him and then forget him. It is in the past after all. It happened a while ago. It's time to finish this business and get on with your life.”

“A while ago?” Anaxantis said bitterly. “Yes, it was a while ago. Exactly nine months and two days ago. What's that? Nine months or nine minutes. It's the same. And it is in the past, you say? Then why is it still happening, every day, every time I close my eyes? Every time I hear someone behind me and I don't know who it is? How is it that I get an almost irresistible urge to kill anyone who happens to touch me unexpectedly? Tell me, Hemarchidas, how do I forgive, let alone forget, something that is still happening, that keeps happening over and over? How? How do I do that?”

Hemarchidas didn't know and remained silent, hoping that his arms would say what he didn't find the words for.

“So,what do you do?” he asked after a while.

Anaxantis shrugged.

“I keep him a prisoner, like he did me. Not in chains, at least not in visible ones. I keep him captive, and it almost convinces me that he can't harm me anymore. I try to keep all my thousand infernal oaths. I humiliate him. I take away something, now and again. Slowly. Deliberately. Each time he thinks he can't possibly sink lower, I push him down some more. I made him fall in love with me, made him fall hard, and then seemingly took it away again. And I don't permit him to fall out of love with me. When I sense that he is wavering, doubting, I draw him to me and make him fall in love all over again.”

“Your thousand infernal oaths.”
Hemarchidas thought.
“You can do nothing else but keep them, of course. You yourself told me you don't make idle threats.”

“It is so confusing,” Anaxantis resumed. “For it is not all play acting. I do love him. I do. Still, still, despite everything. And I can't bring myself to decide to forgive him or to kill him, before I am certain what happened to the rapist. Is he still there? Of course he is, he must be, he's only laying low, waiting... waiting for the first sign of weakness. Or maybe he is gone... Gods in heaven, I'm so messed up...”

He looked at Hemarchidas through his tears.

“You know,” he continued, “on New Years eve I almost, almost decided. I came so close, so close. But I can't. Not until I'm absolutely sure. It's not only me. As you said, there's too much at stake. So, for the time being, I will keep my damned oaths and I will keep taking away everything he has and is, piece by piece.

“While at the same time punishing yourself for something that wasn't your fault to begin with,”
Hemarchidas silently commiserated.

“That's harsh,” he said. Then, after a pause, “But nothing that he doesn't deserve.”

“You think so? Can you picture the proud, haughty prince he used to be? The austere, grumpy lord governor who broke no contradiction? Now picture this. I keep him naked. Like a wild animal. Not a stitch of clothing on him. Bare. At my beck and call. I order him around. Make him do menial little jobs. I touch him where and when and in what manner pleases me. I look him over from his blushing face to his bare feet, because I know it embarrasses him immensely. You would think he would grow used to it, to being naked. Still, when I enter the room his first reflex is to cover his dick and balls... I make him crawl around on all four, like an animal, and I stare at his asshole and make sure that he knows I do. Just like he did with me. It devastates him. I take it further still. I pat him, like you would a dog, but on his bare ass. Sometimes I casually touch his dick until it rises and then I leave him standing there with his erection. And I'm not done. Far from... I watch him. I study him. Carefully. Meticulously. I look out for the rapist in him, but I can't seem to find him anymore. He must be there somewhere. Buried. Hidden. But he's disguised as a lover. He hides behind the mask of devotion. Every time I take away something new, every time I administer a new blow to whatever remains of his pride, I think that surely now he must come out of hiding. That finally I will see him again. Him, that did this to me. Him that took away my ability to love, to trust. Him that defiled me and defiled my love for him. And one day maybe I will. And then, then I will kill him.”

Anaxantis had spoken as in trance and looked, without seeing, straight before him. Then he seemed to waken.

“Still think he deserves all that?”

At first Hemarchidas didn't know what to say anymore, but very soon his inborn loyalty took over.

“Yes. Yes, I think he deserves it. Far, far more importantly, you, you deserve it. You deserve your chance at revenge. No, at healing. If it helps you to feel back in control again to see your tormentor at your mercy, if it gives you back your self confidence, even a fraction of the dignity he stole from you, if it helps you deal with... with... it, yes, yes, and again, yes, he deserves every last scrap of what he's getting. You have a right, an inalienable right to reparation.”

Anaxantis sighed deeply and looked at him with pain visible on his face.

“Ah, you see, you speak of healing, of reparation. If only... You speak of revenge and even that would be preferable to the truth. Actually... I like it. I like seeing him crawl down before me... I like it that he is mortified when I stare at his private parts. It... it... it excites me...”

“What do you mean...?”

“That it arouses me, damn you,” Anaxantis said, raising his voice in frustrated anger and self-revulsion. “I get a hard on from treating him like that. I've never gotten harder than when I pat his ass and see in his eyes how demeaning that is for him. Or when I look at his hole, and he knows it, and he realizes that, although he is cringing inside with utter shame, there is nothing he can do about it... And then I hate him all the more. For having awakened these monsters in me. For having given me this appetite, this craving. Which I never knew I had. Which I never wanted. Which I am ashamed of. Which I can't resist.”

He lowered his head, and when he raised it again, Hemarchidas saw that he had been crying again.

“Do you still admire me?” Anaxantis asked with a sarcastic undertone. Then, shrugging, “You wanted to know. Now you do... This is what I am. I can't escape it and I won't lie to myself or try to find excuses for it. Neither will I lie to you. Nobody, least of all me, would blame you if—”

“Stop right there,” Hemarchidas said decisively. “I love you. I love you with all my heart and with all that I am. There is nothing, nothing at all about you that I am not prepared to accept. Nothing that I would be ashamed of to share with you. Do you have more horror stories? Bring them on. Try as you may, you can't make me hate you. Do you have more examples of what kind of monster you are? Lay them on me. I dare you. You can't make me despise you. You forget that I know you. You are not dirty. You are not guilty. You are not worthless. You are no monster. So, you are not perfect. Big surprise. I don't care. I don't give a damn. You are my friend, I love you, and I will take you for what you are, you and all the baggage you bring with you. Did you think me so narrow minded? Did you think I wasn't big enough to stomach this? Did you think my friendship came with conditions? Well, it doesn't. And yes, I still admire you. Even more, if that were possible. For how do you live with all that? How do you keep standing? How do you keep functioning? How do you manage to keep sane? How is it you can still care for other people? How is it you can still feel compassion? How do you do all that? And all the while you have a war to prepare for and you're making an excellent job of it too.”

Anaxantis pressed himself against Hemarchidas.

“Oh, Hemarchidas,”
he thought desperately,
“why couldn't it have been you? You would have called forth far better things in me. Now I am hurting you, because I am bound to this contaminated love that keeps smoldering in me.”

“Do you mean that?” he whispered.

“Of course I do.”

“It's just... sometimes I am so afraid that it will overwhelm me. That not only I will grow to like it more and more, but that I will... need it.”

“I don't believe that. All I have ever seen of you points in the opposite direction. You've told me that you learned it from your mother. To always be true to your word.”

“My word is the only thing I truly have. She was right.”

“Exactly. You swore to get back at him and that is what you are doing. That... other thing is a side effect, and it only applies to your rapist. My guess is that it will disappear with him.”

Anaxantis frowned.

“I so hope you're right. And meanwhile?”

“And meanwhile you make do. Like the rest of us. I for one would be happy to know how you kept going until now. How do you do it?”

“Deal with all this, live with myself, you mean? I honestly don't know. I stand often enough at the abyss of my soul, asking that same question, looking down in the dark crevices where the black monsters dwell on the bottom. They gaze up to me and I look them in the eyes. ‘This also you are,’ they say, and I almost fall into the void.”

“And then?”

Anaxantis shrugged.

“And then? I turn around and go do what needs to be done. What else is there?”

“So why are you asking me questions if you know the answer already,” Hemarchidas smiled.

“By the Gods, there are things, far, far less serious, I would never tell anybody, living or dead, and he laid his very soul bare for me to stare at. Never again can I say that he doesn't trust me. He has laid his honor in my hands.”

They sat for a long, long time like that, with Hemarchidas keeping his arms protectively around Anaxantis. A strange, soothing peace descended over the young prince. At long last he tugged at Hemarchidas's arm.

“Come, let's go back. I have no time for this. As you said, I've got a war to prepare for.”