|
|
Six chapters until I type "The End" on All Roads, my romance set in ancient Rome. Here's a piece:
**********
A shriek of outrage froze Marcus's thoughts. Straight ahead, the Dacian royal entourage sat on the ground. Surrounded by guards, they waited with blank, passive faces.
Except for one woman, who tried repeatedly to break through the circle of soldiers, only to be bounced back inside.
The raven-haired beauty who had rabidly defended the prince. Even with her gown streaked with dirt and blood, she stood apart from the others. Perhaps he noticed her because she fought with so much passion, rare to see in a royal woman.
She paused for a moment in her efforts when he approached, but knew his language well enough to turn her curses on him. “What will you do with his body, you barbarian dog?”
Glancing to his right, Marcus saw the young prince lying on a cart, his corpse taken in case the king had needed an additional reason to lay down his weapons.
No matter this woman’s interest in the body, Marcus had but one answer to give. “His body will be burned.”
She shook, her face twisted in rage, while the wind whipped her long, dark hair into a cyclone. Her eyes pierced his blank stare to plead with him. She opened her hands and said, “Your way is not our way.”
Everything about this woman seemed dangerous, even the tears she refused to check. She owned her heritage, and despite the way she entreated him, hatred radiated from her like warmth from the sun.
Nothing he could say would console her, so he asked, “What is your name?”
She straightened her spine. “Ademeni, daughter of King Decebalus.”
Her name tripped off her tongue like music, her broken language not lyrical enough to disguise her position. Daughter of the king.
He should have known.
Pushing through the brief shot of pleasure he’d received at the sound of her voice, he returned to his duty.
“Ademeni, daughter of Dacia, I am Marcus Decimas Cordovis, commander of Trajan’s Flavia Felix Legion.” He delivered news that drained the blood from her face, leaving him shaken for the first time in his storied military career. “You are now a slave of Rome, and to Rome you will all go in the morning.”
She stepped forward, daring the guards to force her back while offering a tantalizing whiff of sandalwood. A tight smile sent a chill down his spine.
With white knuckled fingers, she pulled on the collar of her dress, rending the fabric and exposing her neck and the generous swell of her breasts.
“Then you should kill me now, General.” Her dark eyes flashed her passion. “Because if I live, I will not hesitate to kill you.”
Posted in Writing at 9:39 AM