Chapter 15 #2
The aroma of herb-filled stew wafted to him, and his belly growled.
Lucius reached across the gap between them and took the offering.
His head swam as he dropped to sit cross-legged on the ground, leaning against the water barrel.
Placing the bowl on his lap, he spooned the food into his mouth one-handed, his left hand bound to his right and rendered useless.
Sorcha remained standing, staring down at him. “Tell me why you serve in the Roman army.”
Quid? What? Shocked by her question, he looked at her. “It is required.” When she said nothing, he shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.
“You mean you had no choice?”
Lucius chewed and considered his answer before he swallowed. “It is the path of service that leads to status, wealth, and power.”
Sorcha frowned. “For a Celt, that comes from the rank of one’s family.”
“In Rome also.”
“So, you don’t come from a family of high rank?”
He nodded. “My father is a powerful member of the equestrian class, but craves membership of the highest—the senatorial class.”
“And you want that too?”
“I need to increase our family’s wealth and reputation to improve our status and rank.”
“Tell me how you would achieve that.”
He dropped his spoon into the empty bowl and held up a finger.
“Serve with distinction in the Roman army, be appointed to civic office and serve with merit, be appointed by the Emperor or elected to the Senate of Rome.” He wondered if he had said that correctly in her language, or if she would even understand because her people did not have the same type of government.
Her face scrunched up, showing confusion, but she carried on. “And you do that by conquering peoples beyond the Empire?”
“By extending Roman civilization throughout the known world.”
“Humph. You believe that?”
“I do… I did.” Did he still believe it now, after all he had seen?
“I hear doubts, Roman.”
“Ah….” How did he explain that living with the Durotriges, fighting beside them, seeing their way of life, their learning, their medicine, their creativity, made him doubt Rome’s superiority in all but its engineering, its ability to build in stone, and its ruthless acquisitiveness through war?
“I see the world a little differently now.”
Sorcha took several steps towards him until she loomed over him.
Still wary of her state of mind, Lucius raised his bound arms to defend his still-bleary head.
Sorcha took a step back, her eyes widening. “I mean you no harm.”
Lucius swallowed the spike of fear and lowered his arms. Lit by the flickering flame, her face no longer looked savage.
“I have calmed down. I regret my dishonorable behavior towards you, a hostage. I was filled with grief and anger. My five brothers...” Her voice cracked with emotion. She bowed her head, as her shoulders shook with silent grief.
Lucius levered himself upright using the water barrel. He took the torch from her hand, extinguished it in the water, and tossed it onto the ground.
Sorcha did nothing to stop him. Her hand dropped to her side. Only the light from the rising moon shone on them. She sobbed quietly before him.
Lucius lifted his arms and lowered them around Sorcha, encircling her.
He drew her against his chest and murmured words of comfort in her ear.
“I’m sorry. Truly. Leniret te, amica mea.
” Calm yourself, my darling. He brushed soft kisses against her temple, as he stroked a bound hand over her silky hair, then pulled her closer.
He was desperate to take away the pain his people had caused her.
Little by little, her sobbing eased.
He stroked a kiss on her cheek.
Sorcha exhaled a shuddering breath. She made no move to withdraw from him.
Her hands came up to grip his tunic at his waist. The relief that small concession from her gave him was overwhelming.
“I’m so sorry, amica mea. Forgive me,” he murmured softly against her cheek. He pressed another kiss onto the soft skin beside her mouth. His cock stirred.
Her arms crept around his waist, her lips met his, and then she was ravishing his mouth. Her hands roamed his body, smoothing over the muscles of his back before settling on his buttocks. She grasped them and pulled him closer.
His hardened cock pressed against her belly.
She backed him toward his bed of bracken without breaking their open-mouthed kiss. He followed her lead willingly, his ankle chains jingling.
He clasped her waist with one hand and tried to guide them safely to the ground. He overbalanced, and they tumbled down together. “Umph.”
Sorcha sprawled on top of him. Exactly where he wanted her. She shifted up his chest to renew their kiss. Her fingers slid into his hair while she rubbed herself against his throbbing cock.
“Free me, Sorcha, so I can love you,” he murmured against her lips.
A sigh escaped her. “I don’t have the key.”
“My hands? So I may caress you?”
“I like you this way, Roman. Under my control.”
His heart thumped faster in his chest at her words, his cock hardening even more beneath her.