Descendants of Rome (#3 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Marcia watched Lazarus leave with disdain.

Stood on the wall, she watched him slip from the doors with Leonidas, and disappear into the forest, her fingers curled around her bow in anger.

Krista had allowed Lazarus to leave with Leonidas on his first sanctioned mission.

Marcia had received the news with a smile but inside her stomach was coiling with jealously.

It was not a pretty emotion and Marcia was half-tempted to knock Lazarus unconscious and take his place.

Well, maybe she was more than just half-tempted. Maybe she was very tempted, but she refrained herself.

"Keep watch," Marcia told the other guards on duty that evening before she turned and hurried down the stairs.

Jumping the last few, Marcia trekked through the courtyard and through the entwining streets that led off of it.

Her head protested at the constant sound of hammering from the blacksmiths and there were always a handful of people that remained awake, unable to sleep, but most were tucked up in bed, anxious for what the next day would bring.

There had not been fighting for a few days now and people were growing weary, wondering what the Romans were planning.

It was partly why Lazarus and Leonidas had left, to uncover any of Octavia's secrets.

Marcia knew it was for the sake of the war, but it did not mean she had to like it.

Entering out into a small clearing at the back of the fort where a few straw figurines had been hung up for target practice, Marcia snatched the quiver which was left at the back.

Slinging it over her shoulder, Marcia removed an arrow and armed her bow.

Feeling the small whoosh of power as the arrow left the string before impaling the straw-man helped Marcia control her anger.

Switching one arrow for two, Maria watched the pair of shafts impale the figurine on opposite sides of his chest.

When there was no room left to shoot with an arrow, Marcia lowered her bow and took a shaky breath.

Marcia turned to replace the quiver when she spotted someone watching her.

"What do you want?" Marcia narrowed her eyes at the figure.

Night had descended but the torches did nothing to highlight the person's face, keeping their features hidden.

Marcia's fingers gripped her bow, stealing a glance at the quiver by her hip when they did not respond. There were two arrows left.

The air grew thick with tension as Marcia debated how to act when the person took a step closer.

"You're good with that bow," The man replied, his accent pointing towards him being a Gaul.

Marcia could still not see his face but his accent implied that he was an ally so she felt her stance relax, but only slightly.

"Who are you?" Marcia watched him closely as he took a few more steps closer before finally stepping into the torchlight, the amber flames lighting up his face.

Marcia was struck by how handsome he appeared.

Tall, with a thick dusting of stubble across his chiselled jaw, he appeared dangerous, but the smile on his lips was teasing.