Rune and Ruin

Seeds of the Gods - 18 - Fallow Fields

395 B.C.E. - Warlord's Encampment, Outside the Walls of the City of Veii, Early Summer, Month of Junius

In his memory

When he collected his female from the heights of the battlements, the tears had frozen to her cheeks despite the warm sun. "They have paid the price for allowing you to be harmed, love," Falx told Thania as he rubbed her chilled arms up and down. He settled her quickly in their tent, hoping the familiar surroundings would comfort her.

She stared back at him in dazed horror. "You set them aflame," she whispered.

"It is the most honorable way for a Flight to die when he has failed in his duty."

"Gods," she mumbled as fresh tears escaped.

"I will always protect my property," Falx soothed her, pulling her close. "You belong to me. No other male has any right to touch even a hair on your pretty head, female. Understand?"

Thania nodded, still looking numb. Falx heaved a sigh of frustration. She was nearly catatonic from shock. Shouldn't she be used to the violence of this life? She was so gentle, his sweet Acera lover. He supposed he wouldn't let her see the rest of the punishments now.

"How is your back, love?" he asked her.

She merely nodded, not speaking a word.

"I have missed you," he said to her huskily. Gently, he kissed her, enjoying her mouth as she submitted to his attention. Whoever felt that slaves shouldn't be kissed never had one as delicious as her.

His father had told him never to kiss a slave. Feeling bitter anger score his insides, Falx lifted his head. His father had run away to Ardea, but not before arranging for Cassius to take ownership of Veii, this villa, and all that resided within, including Thania.

The betrayal stung, but holding this female in his arms soothed him. Smoothing back a red curl, he cupped her cheek and did his best to soothe her. "Flammatia, stop shaking. They deserved to die for their betrayal."

Her nod was not reassuring. Her eyes were too vacant, too wide with remembered horror. Wrapping her up in the thin blanket Marcus had given him earlier; Falx tried to cajole her out of her mood. "We will march on to Rune, love. Bringing the army to their doorstep will force the Senate to wake up to the reality of this power balance. I have a villa there. It's beautiful, fountains and pools everywhere. My thrice-great-grandfather built it and the Fyrrins have added to it each generation. You'll have a set of rooms adjoining mine. A closet full of clothes and jewels. We'll feast together and have time to see the shows and games. Won't you like that?" he asked with a tinge of desperation.

"Warlord," she said softly, gazing at him over a distance he secretly feared he could never cross. "I am your slave. I sleep at your mercy and eat at your feet."

Falx felt something cold settle in his gut. His eyes narrowed on her, a look that made her shiver more. "I can have a pampered slave. I will have one. You will love living in Rune with me, Flammatia."

Something sparked in her eyes, finally. Her own fire, he hoped. Sure enough, she challenged him. "And how will your wife feel about your bedslave occupying her rooms? I imagine the closet of clothes and jewels will also belong to her. Will she pretend-" Her words cut off as Falx wrapped his clawed hand around her throat.

"Hush, female," he growled. "There is no wife. No other female. Who have I fucked day and night these last months to sake my lust? Who warms my bed and takes my seed? Who shares my tent?" Reaching down, he pushed her skirts out of his way and freed his cock. Sitting quickly and arranging her on his lap, he thrust himself into her warm heat, enjoying her soft gasp.