1. Ties That Bind


    Date: 9/18/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: bad_mann_ers, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    the port. Marcus had been summoned to the port late one evening because a trader had been caught trying to smuggle slaves through the port. Marcus never understood why traders would risk so much to save a few golds in tariffs. The trader had been summarily executed. The slaves became property of the Legate and were to be catalogued and sent to Rome. Perhaps Marcus had been reading too many works of the Stoics in Greece. They taught that all life had value. Marcus applied this teaching to the way he handled subordinates and the populous. He felt it should apply in the way that people treated slaves as well. These slaves were bound in heavy chains and were obviously poorly fed. Marcus ordered that the chains be removed, and that proper food and wash facilities be found for the slaves. Most of the slaves were surprised at his orders. A small group saw this action as weakness and attempted an escape. One of the men called out something in a language that Marcus did not understand. That man and two others tried to attack the soldiers that were removing the chains. A woman said something harsh to the men in their own language. The words replied from the men were even more harsh. The men tried to grab the woman and flee, even as soldiers moved to intercept them. The woman resisted. Marcus stepped forward and killed the man that was holding the woman's wrist. In utter surprise and fright, the woman turned towards Marcus. Somehow, she held a small crafting knife and the blade found ...
    its way through armor and padding to bite into his hip. She was more shocked than he was, but she simply fell to her knees to wait for the killing stroke of his sword. A man does not achieve higher ranks unless he can control his emotions. Marcus checked his anger. "Why do you wait?" the woman demanded. "We all know the punishment for attacking soldiers." Her accept was thick, but understandable. "You speak our language," he said calmly, "and you spoke to those men in a language I did not recognize. How many tongues do you speak?" Her eyes grew wide, but she did not look up at him. Her eyes cast around as if the stones on the ground might guide her words. "I know some of your language, but I am better versed in the words of Britain," she answered softly. "I have some skill with the words of Gaul, but I was raised in the lands of Norse." "I have need of your skills," he pronounced. "You will remain here as a slave in my retinue. You will attend me every day to help in the port." A subordinate led the woman away while Marcus turned his attention to dealing with the rest of the slaves and the trader's goods. Several hours later, Marcus had returned to the small private residence he maintained as a Tribune. He found the woman waiting for him in his bedroom. "Why are you here?" he asked tersely. He was not looking forward to tending the wound she had given him. He knew simple scratches could be deadly, but he had carefully hidden the pain and injury from his subordinates so they ...
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