For a Roman's Heart

by Denise A. Agnew

Lurco’s laugh, low and almost raspy, broke over the air. “You will not tell us what you’ll do to make up for this lack of command in your cohort. We will tell you.”

  Terentius didn’t dare look at Lurco. He wanted to take him down with one well-placed punch. Well, which is it, you son of a whore? Ask me what should be done, I’ll always tell you.

  Cilo spoke, but only after taking a deep breath. “Very well.” His gaze landed on Lurco. “Atellus has made a good choice.”

  Lurco’s lips tightened into a resentful line. “This hardly seems a reasonable punishment.” He gestured at Terentius. “He could desert as well.”

  Fed up, Terentius pinned his superior with a frown that he knew would cower a lowly soldier. “I could. But I never would. My honor is beyond rebuke.”

  Lurco’s sword came out of the scabbard faster than Terentius could blink. Instinct forced Terentius to brace himself, to tighten his grip on the sword and consider that death would truly find him if he fought back. Not because he’d lose the fight. Because he’d win.

  Darkness flashed in Lurco’s eyes. Oh, yes. Lurco enjoyed death. Terentius had seen the man’s bloodlust in full when they’d been in the same row of seats watching a gladiatorial fight at the amphitheater. The man loved the red. Loved the stench of death.

  “Stand down, Lurco.” Cilo’s commanding voice halted Lurco’s forward momentum.

  Lurco stopped in his tracks, his breathing coming faster. He slowly reseated his sword. “He speaks out of turn.”

  Cilo sighed. “Enough.” He glowered at his second in command. “Terentius would kill you, and then I’d have to have him killed, and then I would lose a fine centurion. Where is the logic in that? Few men are more respected than Terentius.” Before Lurco could speak, Cilo continued. “So be it. You will take your optio and track down this Sulla. Do you have any idea where he’s gone?”

  A weight lifted from Terentius and he relaxed. “I do, sir. I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

  “Very well. Come back in an hour. I’ll have a letter for you to take with you. I received word from the auxiliary unit we have at Durovigutum just this week. Locals there have been rioting over anything and everything lately and threatening the local villas. You’re to become a beneficiarius while you are there.”

  Unsure, Terentius asked, “I am reassigned to an auxiliary?”

  “Temporarily. You will still be in the twentieth, Centurion. But they need someone with a firm and fair hand to command the policing for a short time. Until another auxiliary centurion can be promoted. Consider disenfranchisement from your men your punishment for the time being. When I hear that you’ve captured and dealt with Sulla, I will consider your return to this fortress.”

  Swallowing his desire to argue, Terentius saluted. “As you will it, sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  Relief coursed through Terentius in a dizzying wave. When he left the principia and took the Via Principia toward his quarters, he drew in one deep, refreshing breath after another. A trembling started deep down as he realized the gods and goddess hadn’t forsaken him after all. All around him men went about their daily routines. He savored the din, the voices, the cursing, the smells.

  Redemption had found him.

  He’d barely reached his quarters when his optio, Domitius Quintus Victor strode toward him. Concern flickered in the man’s dark eyes, but he smiled. As customary, the optio saluted his superior. “Are you dead, then?”

  Terentius chuckled, finding release for the tension that had tightened his limbs while he’d stood in Cilo’s office. “No.”

  Relief further eased Victor’s face. “What is your punishment? Or should I say our punishment?”

  Amused, Terentius schooled his face into false gravity. “I explained you had no part in the failure to keep Sulla in line. You’re safe from punishment. At least the kind that results in death.”

  Victor’s face relaxed somewhat, but wariness stayed in his eyes. “And you? Will we see your face come tomorrow?”

  “Come with me. We have orders to fulfill.”

  As they entered through the wooden door leading to Terentius’s quarters, Terentius took in the noise that echoed in his room. Nothing short of five thousand soldiers lived and worked in this fortress, and their sounds penetrated even these thick stone walls.

  Victor chuckled as Terentius yanked off his helmet and laid it on a table nearby the door. “Am I going to like these orders?”

  “It means we stay alive, we have bloody adventures and we hunt down Sulla.”

  Victor grinned. “I’m excited.”

  Terentius rubbed his stubbled jaw. “You didn’t worry we might be executed?”

  A shadow passed through the big man’s face as he looked down from his slightly superior height. “If it be the desire of the gods, I would have gone to my death willingly.”

  Pride and determination etched the optio’s face, and Terentius couldn’t argue with his friend. Emotion welled inside, breath restricted as he realized the threat of a dishonorable death had rattled him far more than he realized. “We could have died without honor. I would rather die in battle.”

  Victor’s eyes narrowed, as if he understood Terentius’s inner torment. Terentius waited as Victor nodded, then smiled. “That would be my preferred way to go, if given a choice.” Looking uncomfortable now, Victor asked, “My interrogations proved helpful?”

  “They did. We’re off to Durovigutum.”

  “The auxiliary?”

  “The very same.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “It is part of our punishment.”

  “No, that’s not why I’m complaining.”

  Terentius glared. “Then why are you complaining?”

  “Because I hear the women are ugly in that part of the country.”

  Terentius laughed. “Is that all you think about? Getting into cunny?”

  “What else is there?”

  “Honor and adventure and hunting down Sulla.”

  “You already said that. After that comes women.”

  “Fuck you, Victor. You’re lucky I’m such an accommodating centurion, or you would have been flayed long ago.”

  “You’re right. I’m lucky. When do we leave?”

  “As soon as we can put together supplies and Cilo gives us a letter of passage.”

  Victor snorted. “Very well then. Off to bloody adventures.”

  Terentius would miss Deva and the fortress the way Victor would miss Deva and its beautiful women. Still, he would not fail his duty to locate Sulla and put him in his grave.

  Durovigutum, Britannia

  “Would you look at that,” Severianus Adrenus Brigomalla said from his wagon as he stopped the oxen close to the crowd watching the slaves on the auction block. “A ripe, plum example. Perhaps I should buy her to help your mother.”

  Adrenia Tertia Brigomalla winced as her thin-soled leather boots hit the paved road. She blinked in the bright sun as an unusual September afternoon poured sunshine over her head. Sweat beaded on her body. “Mother already has a slave.”

  “Two slaves,” Adrenia’s friend Pella Pictrix said as she followed Adrenia out of the wagon. Pella winked at Adrenia.

  “Huh.” Adrenia’s father belched. “Maybe I should get you a slave. Would you like a boy or a girl? I think you want a girl. One with skin on her bones and curves.” His laugh boomed out over the crowd, and several people glanced his way. He ignored them. He retrieved coins from the purse at his waist and handed them to Adrenia. “Offer no more than this for her. She doesn’t look worth even that.”

  “Which woman?” Adrenia asked wearily.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Adrenia. The one at the head of the line.” He gestured with a sharp swing of his hand, his square, unpleasant features reminding her of a block of wood. A merciless fossilization of a real human, long lost to feeling other than evils and sexual appetite.

  She returned her attention to the auction block situated in the middle of town, not far from
the small forum at the end of the square. A stiff breeze started, cooling down the unforgiving sun and all reminders that sunshine flirted with the sky.

  The slave girl on the block that her father wanted owned long, dark, straight hair that spilled over her shoulders in a tangled mess, and a bony body that screamed near starvation. Adrenia understood the woman’s hunger. Unlike the woman’s hopelessly grimy hair, Adrenia had washed and braided her long black locks. From here Adrenia saw the woman’s pinched expression, her eyes hollowed with pain or grief, her shoulders bowed in defeat. Distress sliced deep inside Adrenia, and she closed her eyes long enough to witness a moment of the woman’s life. A Gaul. A prisoner on a Roman vessel. Her family had been destroyed. Murdered in battle. Who knew what tortures she’d endured or would yet suffer? Adrenia shoved back tears and opened her eyes. Her father wouldn’t understand her visions, and therefore she kept her mouth shut.

  “Why do you hesitate, girl?” her father asked.

  Adrenia pinned a weary look on her father. She’d long ago abandoned feeling hatred for him. Whatever she needed to do she did by rote. His dark eyes, as black as her small bedroom at night, always promised punishment if she disobeyed. Better to do his bidding and save her hide.

  Yet before she could stop herself, the words came out. “I don’t need a slave.”

  She glanced at Pella, who stood near the back of the wagon, ready to extract the weaving products and head to the market just beyond the forum’s open square. Her eyes, too, held practiced blankness.

  “Perhaps I can be of service?” a deep male voice asked from around the side of the wagon. A man stepped around the wagon, his wide smile charming.

  Her agile father jumped down off his perch. He clasped the man’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a few days, Sulla. How are you?”

  Sulla nodded his wheat blond head. “Very well, Brigomalla.”

  She recognized Sulla. She didn’t know his full name and doubted he’d given it to her father. If he had, her father wouldn’t care. Sulla wore a muddy grey cloak over his dark tunic, and she saw a short dagger swinging from his belt like those belonging to legionnaires. Over six feet tall, he would make the perfect soldier with wide shoulders and powerful arms. He dwarfed her father by a few inches. She guessed him around twenty, yet he held the gravity of an older man. His blond hair curled around his head. He was extraordinarily handsome with his classic nose and full lips, yet her gut reacted and her heart told her his looks meant nothing to the rot in his heart.

  Sulla strode up to Adrenia, but she took an involuntary step back. She drew in a slow, deep breath. Goddess, she’d hated this man on sight when her father had brought him home a week ago, allowed him to eat at their table, and ogle Adrenia and her mother. Any man who cared about his wife and daughter wouldn’t have tolerated Sulla’s surliness and lack of respect. Her father seemed to think he was like a son. Sulla made her skin crawl.

  “Ladies, I am honored to see you again.” Sulla lifted her hand and kissed the back, and she suppressed a shudder. He lifted Pella’s hand and did the same.

  Adrenia didn’t speak and neither did Pella.

  When she said nothing Sulla grinned like her father, his insufferable arrogance coming off him in smothering waves. Adrenia tried to block his negative energy, visualizing a protective white light around her body. When it didn’t work, she shivered in reaction.

  Sulla turned back to her father. “I can buy the slave for you, if you like. But your daughter and Pella should come along. To see how it is properly done.”

  Adrenia held her tongue with extreme effort. She forced a deep breath into her lungs as tension gripped the muscles in her neck and shoulders. Her throat tightened so painfully she thought she might strangle.

  “Capital idea, Sulla. After you buy the slave, bring her straight home. No side trips this time,” her father said.

  Adrenia frowned. What was he talking about?

  “Give Sulla the money,” her father said.

  Reluctantly she handed Sulla the money, and Sulla made sure his fingers brushed against hers. She shivered in revulsion.

  “We need to take our weaving to the shops, sir.” Pella moved closer to Adrenia. Pella’s smooth voice barely carried over the rustling, yammering crowd, but her words always held extraordinary impact. “If we could go there rather than watch this distasteful business. My husband would not approve of me seeing such things.”

  Adrenia’s father smirked. “Perhaps your husband should be with you here now, then, shouldn’t he? Never mind. I’ll take you to the shops. Adrenia, stay here with Sulla.”

  Adrenia glanced from Pella’s startled expression to Sulla’s pleased smile. Alarm filled Adrenia’s gut with a burning sensation.

  Adrenia’s father flicked his hand at Pella. “Get up here, girl. We don’t have time to waste.”

  Her lips tight with disapproval, Pella looked for a moment into Adrenia’s eyes, her alarm now masked with a carefully regulated expression. As always, Adrenia took comfort from her longtime friend’s support. Adrenia’s father wasted no time as soon as Pella alighted into the wagon. He cracked the reins and the oxen trundled down the road, the wagon rattling over the stonework.

  Sulla turned toward her.

  “What are you lookin’ at, girl?” His voice mocked her father’s as if he considered himself her better in every way.

  My name is Adrenia Tertia Brigomalla, you rat.

  She wanted to scream her words, the boiling within her violent enough to threaten her ability to stay calm.

  Malice danced in his shadowy eyes, so at contrast with his light hair. In those split seconds, a disturbing sensation ached inside her. She’d seen that light sparking in her father’s eyes on a daily basis, and traces of it in her mother as well. Something twisted and cruel with hidden depths, darker than any well.

  Sulla touched the top of her head where she’d coiled her braids into spirals. She jerked back. This time he didn’t smile. “Well, well. Too good for old Sulla?”

  She didn’t speak, just walked through the crowd toward the slave auction. He grabbed her arm, yanking her back. He pressed his chest into her back as his long arms came around her. “Where are you going, girl?” His fingers came up to cup her breasts. “Don’t you want to play?”

  His cock, erect against her mid back, felt solid as a pillar. She gasped and jerked from his grip. He let her go, his laugh booming. No one took notice of the small drama. She glanced over at the auction stage. Her lips parted, forcing the words out with as much strength as she could muster. “The girl is up next. My father will be very displeased if we miss buying her. Do you want to make him angry?”

  Annoyance flickered in his eyes and then vanished. “I will tell him you seduced me.” His hand flashed upward, clamping on her jaw, fingers bruising in strength. “What would you do then? Maybe old Brigomalla should sell you for a whore slave.”

  He released her with a push, and she stumbled. She gasped in pain and indignation but didn’t fall.

  The crowd shuffled, growing in size every minute, pressing them closer and closer to the stage. She pushed through, not bothering to excuse herself as she shoved her way between people to reach the edge of the stage. She needed to escape Sulla’s attention, but if she ran away and tried to find Pella and her father, she’d suffer her father’s wrath as well. Better to make it harder for Sulla to attack her. As she stood near the stage, she half expected Sulla to drag her backwards and press her against his arousal again. He didn’t follow.

  “Next product.” The plump auctioneer on stage gestured for his assistant to do his bidding.

  The slave master dragged the emaciated girl up the stairs and onto the stage. She wore a stained, dark tunic, neither belted nor adorned in any way, and it hung on her body like a sack. She was barefoot. Her head hung down, eyelids shuttering her expression, lips pale in her drawn face. She could be any age between fifteen and twenty. Adrenia raged that she could do nothing to save her. The girl looked up and their gazes me
t. Adrenia ached inside, hating her own impotence in the situation. Tears threatened again, but Adrenia shoved them back. She couldn’t afford to break down.

  The auction began, and Sulla called out his bids. Back and forth, he battled with a short, fat man nearby with rotten teeth but expensive garments. The stakes increased, and the crowd mumbled as the auction served as entertainment. Adrenia’s heart pounded as she wished with all her might that the ugly short man would win the slave. He could be as cruel as Sulla, but maybe not. She could hope for the girl’s sake the short man might possess some kindness.

  Sulla made another bid, far over her father’s top purchase amount. She glanced around at him, a few steps away. He grinned at Adrenia, his teeth gleaming, his intent to devour and eat was clear. Fear snaked up her spine.

  The short man didn’t make another bid, and the auctioneer clapped his hands. “Sold to the man in the second row.”

  Adrenia closed her eyes a moment, knowing something dreadful awaited the girl. She didn’t know where or when, but that the girl’s fate had been sealed from the moment Sulla had seen her standing near the platform. It took a few moments for the girl to leave the stage, her walk slow and weak. Adrenia hurried toward the stairs by the ramp, hoping to at least arrive there before Sulla. Sulla outpaced her with long strides. He reached for the girl and yanked her the rest of the way down the stairs. The girl went down on her knees at the foot of the stairs. She didn’t even cry out.

  “No,” Adrenia whispered. “She’s weak. Can’t you see—”

  “Quiet.” Sulla growled the word. “She’s coming with me. Tell your father I’ll bring her by later.”

  “At least buy her some food and drink before—”

  One icy look from Sulla silenced Adrenia. His lips curled into a hateful smile, appearance of humor ruined by nasty intent. “Don’t be a bitch. I’ll bring the girl by later.”

  The girl, even shorter than Adrenia’s meager stature, glanced up at Adrenia with pleading blue eyes. Even in the girl’s despair Adrenia saw beauty there, or what had once passed for prettiness. Adrenia’s fertile imagination winged through all the possibilities of how the small female had come to this horrible point in her life. Now there wasn’t much life in the girl’s eyes. Her heart was broken, her health spare, her hope destroyed. Adrenia read it in the girl’s expression. Goddess how she wished she couldn’t see pain so very, very well. Adrenia opened her mouth to speak comforting words, but Sulla pulled the slave away from the crowd. Adrenia watched the young woman and Sulla disappear between two buildings.