The Slave's Gladiator

Chapter 14: Rocca

If there was one word to describe Rocca, it was brash.

The pirate merchant did whatever she wanted without a second thought and pointed a sword at those who dared disobeyed. However, as brash as Rocca was, she remained true to her word when it came to Valeria.

"You've been quite helpful," Rocca stated as she climbed down the steps into the cargo hold. Valeria turned her head as the former sat on the edge of one of the large crates. "I won't lie. I had my doubts about your merchant skills, but they seem to be true."

Her foot tapped against the wood. "And you never stole from me once." She held her hand out for the scroll which Valeria handed over without a second thought. Rooca's blue eyes scanned her list of stock and suspected value for each. With a satisfied nod, she met Valeria's gaze. "We'll reach Agrigentum soon."

More footsteps turned Valeria's gaze to the second in command, a large burly man with two mugs of ale which he handed to both of them. As Valeria's hands curled around the mug, she stared at her reflection. Dark bags hung under her eyes, telling all about her lack of sleep. Nightmares of Gamba, Agustin, even her parent's death ran rampant in her mind.

Rocca's question cut through the silence. "Ever thought about going into busniess?"

Busniess? She hesitated. Like an actual trade guild myself? Lifting the cups to her lips, the drink burned on the way down. Or was she making a demand? "I don't know." She sighed, causing the liquid to give way under her breath. "I don't know if I can do it."

"Valeria, right?" Rocca sat her mug down. "Let me tell you a little story."

When Rocca patted the crate beside her, Valeria took the invitation to sit down.

"There was this Roman girl that everyone claimed was the most beautiful in the village and soon, she was married off to a wealthy suitor."

Rocca's growing smile twitched. "And every day she lived in fear of being struck, kicked, or at worse killed."

Valeria's eyes widened. She heard of the tortures of marriage where it was often seen as a duty and not one of love. Those less fortunate in wealth and status were often subjected to abuse and neglect.

Even Domitia wasn't spared from a smack or two if the master was in the deepest of foul moods.

"When a prediction revealed a daughter instead of a son, the husband was furious." Rooca turned her head away. "When she lost her child to his hands, she finally had enough and left. On the streets, she struggled to survive and soon found herself in debt to a mercenary for doing various acts of pleasures to their men for food and water."

She leaned back. "Still, there was always one who refused to touch her, no matter how much she desperately threw herself at him. Instead, he introduced her to some people and, with his help, got her the power and respect she truly deserves without having to give herself away."

Rocca pushed herself off the crate. "And now look at her." She threw her arms out. "She's the captain of her own ship."

Watching her a little longer, Valeria's gaze returned to her mug. It wasn't that easy though, she thought bitterly. I have nothing to my name.

"Valeria," Rooca held her mug up. "Don't let your past as a slave define you. You have a future you want, then go for it."

Go for it? Valeria hesitated. Could she really do it? Lifting her mug, she struck it against Rocca's.

"There she is!" Rooca cried. "Valeria, the trader!"

Valeria the trader.

That simple phase ranged throughout her head as the shores of Agrigentum appeared a few days later. As the ship pulled into the dock, a line of men stood on both sides as Rocca walked down the line to address them.