Descendants of Rome (#3 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Their eyes watched her, waiting, like birds of prey waiting for the hunters to leave so that they could swoop down and take their fill.

A noise clapped behind her and Marcia flinched, her eyes squeezing shut involuntarily.

Peeling them apart once more, Marcia looked through the curtain her hair had made and saw them all still there. They were still watching her, still waiting for her to break.

Her eyelids were heavy as the air was heavily intoxicated with the scent of candle wax, sweat and fear.

Marcia never knew until that moment that you could smell, taste and see fear as if it was a physical thing in the room, as if it was a person stood by her side.

It made her skin shiver as she forced her eyes open and looked across the tent at Octavia, sat back on her wooden throne.

The furniture had been pushed towards the side of the tent to allow room for an eight foot tall, one and half foot wide, post to be brought into the room.

A simple iron ring had been screwed into its side. It was a simple thing, basic, that enabled her arms to be held above her head as the chains binding her wrists were twined through the iron ring.

Her arms cramped from their awkward position and her feet stumbled as she tried to keep her balance.

"Marcia?" Octavia called her name after a small reprieve, trying to judge her state of mind, "Are you willing to co-operate now?"

Bent forward at the waist, as much as she could with her arms tied above her head, Marcia looked at the guard stood to the side of her.

He was man purely of strength rather than intellect and it showed in his plain features from the brown hair to the smooth chin and the deadpan eyes.

Her eyes flickered back over to Octavia.

They were of a same age but Marcia felt as far away from her as a one hundred year old did with a newborn.

Octavia arched an eyebrow as Marcia forced herself to stand straight, her teeth gritting against the pain as something clicked in her spine.

As she stood, resting her head back against the post like a pillow, the guard slammed his palm against the wood beside her head.

Marcia blinked but she forced herself to remain still, her eyes locked with Octavia's.

The air began to grow warmer as Marcia's heart raced inside of her chest.

Octavia leaned forward on the desk slowly, as if afraid any sudden movement might scare her aware.

She was forgetting one major problem with that theory though. Marcia was chained to a post; she could not physically go anywhere.

"You can end this, Marcia," Octavia rose to her feet and walked across the tent towards her, tendrils of her long dark hair falling from its braid, "Just tell me something."

Octavia held her breath as Marcia gave a small, defeated nod of her head.

Her body sighed silently with relief.

Marcia beckoned her closer until her lips could reach the Commander's ear.

Octavia stared at the post behind Marcia's head, feeling the Briton's breath on her ear and neck as she waited with anticipation.

"You want to know something?" Marcia whispered.

Octavia nodded, "Yes."

"Okay," Marcia gave a small chuckle as she took a breath and spoke clearly, "When I get out of these chains I am going to kick your ass."