Page 37 of Enslaved
Diana closed her eyes in trepidation for a moment. What if she enraged him and he heaped humiliation upon her, or worse? She straightened her shoulders. So be it. She would cast her fate to the winds. Marcus Magnus was only a man when all was said and done, and she a woman. The odds were definitely in her favor.
Kell drove out slowly through the gate of the walled garden of the villa and headed down the sloping hills toward Aquae Sulis. The afternoon sun was hot upon Diana’s bare shoulders as the guard waved Kell’s small chariot through the gate of the fortress. She glanced up at the ramparts, which had a foundation of stone, then turf from the surrounding ditch stacked like bricks to a height of about eighteen feet. All the soldiers on the ramparts gaped down at her.
Diana was surprised at the size of the fortress. Inside the walls was like a town with many streets and buildings. At the junction of the two main streets was a complex of buildings around a courtyard, which included the principia or headquarters, storerooms, and offices. When Kell stopped to inquire where the general was, the guards informed him the Primus Pilus was out in the external annex.
They drove past stables, workshops, and finally long rows of barracks where the Roman soldiers ate and slept. They looked quite spacious and were fronted by colonnaded walkways. As they proceeded toward the annex, men everywhere stopped what they were doing, stared after them in disbelief, then began to follow on foot. Kell’s chariot was a common sight at the fort, but not since it was built had a woman been inside.
In the center of the back wall a gate opened into the annex. This vast amphitheatre was used for weapon training and parades. There were at least a thousand soldiers on the field, all wearing segmented armor of metal strips and plates. The sun blazed off the bronze and iron helmets and breastplates of the legionaries who stood in regimented lines around the perimeter of the field.
As they stood at attention with javelins and shields, all eyes were focused on the century in the center of the field who were taking weapon practice. The fighting was vicious. The soldiers were not play-acting.
Marcus Magnus intended that every man present would be totally proficient with the gladius, the short, double-edged sword, before he left Aquae Sulis. It was a stabbing rather than a slashing weapon, designed for use in close fighting and held in a leather and bronze scabbard beneath the right hand. On the left of the body was a pugio dagger in an iron scabbard, suspended from the same weapon belt. Medics stood by to carry the wounded off the field to the hospital.
Behind Marcus stood two Celtic tribesmen in native dress, which consisted of a brief leather loincloth, an axe, and a knife. Each had long, black hair, their naked limbs tattooed with woad in frightening patterns. Both came at him at once. The first was dispatched immediately with a gladius straight into the gut. Marcus grabbed the second man by his long hair, yanked his head back viciously, then cut his exposed throat.
The general hadn’t even taken time to toss his scarlet mantel behind his shoulder so that it wouldn’t impede his sword arm. A great cheer arose from the men. It was followed by embarrassed laughter when the two tribesmen got to their feet unhurt. They thought he had actually slain them. The Celts had been doing this for two years now and still they were not fast enough to take him. Only once had they nicked him deeply enough to draw blood; after that first time he could have killed them each and every time he used them to demonstrate effective weapon skills.
As Diana’s chariot came into the sight of the warriors, all eyes swung toward her unexpected arrival. A great murmur arose in the ranks, which the leaders failed to silence because they, too, were remarking upon the spectacle unfolding before them.
The general stared in disbelief as Kell’s chariot rolled toward him with the beautiful female slave at his side. As it came to a halt, Marcus sheathed his gladius and strode to the vehicle. He glared at her in astonishment, his black eyes smoldering with fury. Before he could bark an order, Diana held out her delicate hand to him. “Help me down, Marcus, or your men will think you most uncouth.” She spoke softly, intimately, for his ears alone.
“You will learn just how uncouth I can be,” he promised, but she noticed that he kept his voice purposely low.
“Smile at me. Surely you want every man here to think you have ordered me to visit you.”
Her beauty almost took his breath away. He showed his teeth in a wolf’s grin, ignored her outstretched hand, and lifted her down from the chariot by the waist. A great cheer went up from the ranks when his powerful hands closed about her tiny waist and he lifted her to his side. The general ignored them, giving his full attention to the beautiful woman who had actually been bold enough to seek him out before a thousand men.
She smiled up at the dark man who towered above her. “They think I am your new concubine,” she murmured seductively.
At the thought, his shaft filled instantly, hardening and lengthening him to a marked degree. His black eyes glittered with victory. “Is that what you have come to tell me?”
“Of course not, you brute,” she teased.
A blazing hot desire almost consumed him. He wanted to push her to the ground, mount her, and give her the fucking of a lifetime before all these Roman soldiers. He wanted to put his brand upon her to show them all that this exquisite female was his, and his alone! He took her possessively by the shoulders. “Then by the gods, what in Hades are you doing here?” he demanded fiercely.
She reached up and traced a delicate fingertip along his scar. Every man watching sucked in his breath. “I am here so that you may invite me to dine with you.” She made a little moue with her mouth. He longed to cover it with his own. Lust pounded inside his temples. “You are my slave —Iorderyou to dine with me.”
Diana shook her head provocatively. His hands tightened on her, needing to master her.
“If youinviteme, it will be my greatest pleasure to accept. Then when we have dined, I have a proposition to lay before you,” she whispered.
“Youwill lay before me, make no mistake,” he murmured fiercely.
“Perhaps.” She said the word filled with mystery, promise, and excitement. Marcus felt the effect of that word all the way to the tip of his marble-hard phallus.
He smiled inwardly. She had turned the tables on him. This morning he had deliberately allowed his dogs to muddy the tiles she had scrubbed, just to provoke her, but when it came to being provocative, this female won, hands down!
“Go now, before I use my weapon on you, here before all these rough soldiers.” His dark eyes glittered. “Iorderyou to dine with me tonight.”
Diana smiled a secret smile. “You silver-tongued devil, how can I resist such a charming invitation?” She went up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Seeing you command and control all these rough soldiers is like an aphrodisiac to me.” She stepped away from him toward the chariot.
His powerful hands scooped her up by her bottom cheeks and he deposited her beside Kell. The men roared and whistled their appreciation. “Enough!” he thundered, his dark face prouder and fiercer than any eagle’s. Silence blanketed the entire field.
As they drove back to the villa, neither Kell nor Diana could quite believe she had gotten away with it. She had deliberately whispered words that would seduce him, words to flatter his male vanity, words he’d wanted to hear. But she admitted to herself that the words she had spoken were true. Being close to him, having his hands on her, was an aphrodisiac.
It gave her a heady feeling to know that when she moved close to him, Marcus Magnus could not resist touching her. She would test her theory again this evening. She would go close to him to prove that he could not keep his hands from her. Diana glanced at Kell. “He did not censure you.”
“He did not even see me, lady.”
