There was such bitterness in the boy's smile, Carrick reflected. The deep, liquid eyes were so full for one so young. Far too full. What a pair Hermes and Alcuin must have made, he thought - the one bright and radiant but with sorrow and rage hiding beneath the merry smile, and the other so composed and melancholy but with a tender heart behind the sad eyes.
The loss of his little bird still pained Carrick. He thought of the boy often, praying for him almost every night. He liked to imagine Hermes living in a white-painted house on the edge of a beach with turquoise waters and white sands, where the perfume of flowers filled the air and colourful birds roosted in the treetops. Somewhere warm and bright. Florida, perhaps. Or Mexico. Somewhere with sunshine. The boy had lived in darkness for too long.
He took his time pulling the spear butt from the ground and smoothing the sand over once more. His face was too ancient and expressionless to show his true feelings, but he nonetheless did not want to face the slave who had meant so much to Hermes while thoughts of his eremenos were so close.
Carrick glanced back over his shoulder again before turning to dace Alcuin once more. "What do you mean by you 'felt' it? " He gave the spear an idle twirl in a figure of eight, then regarded Alcuin with an assessing gaze. "Have you ever been trained in combat? You obviously have an interest in weaponry."