Descendants of Rome (#3 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Tied with a thin leather strap, the pendant rested in the centre of her chest, warmed by her body and forgotten about.

Or at least it had, until that exact moment.

Marcia’s fingers trailed the empty skin of her throat where the strap was no longer hanging from her neck, its sudden disappearance felt throughout her entire body.

Anger and desperation gripped her body, forcing her to move.

Dropping her hand from her neck and back to her side, Marcia gripped her sword and began to stand.

She had not taken a single step before Lazarus grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to the ground.

She fell partly onto the sodden earth and partly into the bush, the branches protesting at her presence amongst its leaves.

Freezing every muscle she could control, Marcia managed to catch a glimpse through the branches, swaying from where she had knocked into them, to see the patrol fix their eyes firmly in their direction.

They could not see them, it was too dark and they were hidden behind foliage, but they had heard the ruckus she had caused and now there was no escaping them.

After a few moments, the bushes began to calm down before remaining perfectly still, as if no one had intruded upon it.

But nothing could cause the Roman’s to forget the noise they heard as their hands settled on their own short swords.

Lazarus’s breathing was warm against the thin skin of her ear, his grasp firm as he tried to keep her there, half of her body pressed against him as they awaited the soldier’s next move.

Marcia tried to think about what she would do if they decided to search the vicinity? Could she spring out from behind the bush and surprise them, but Marcia quickly dismissed that idea when she saw the way her feet were entangled in the branches.

She could not hope to move without alerting them to her presence.

She was trying to think up another way to catch them off balance when the patrol’s attention was drawn away by a passing villager and his family.

Lazarus took the opportunity of raised voices to release her feet from the bush, “What were you thinking?” He asked in hushed whispers.

“I need to get that necklace back,” Marcia pulled a random twig which had become nestled in the top of her boot.

“Leave it,” Lazarus brushed off her concern.

“No.” Marcia looked up and locked eyes with Lazarus, slightly disappointed at his words, “I promised I would return that necklace to its owner and that is a promise I will not break.”

Lazarus saw the fire in her eyes but it was too much of a risk for them to take, “Our parents- our family is waiting for us. They may need our help and you want to risk your life for a necklace?” Lazarus snapped.

Marcia peered through the branches at where the Roman patrol of four men, were shouting at a young man.

Marcia took him to be a farmer from his attire and the way he held the end of a rope which was fastened around a goat’s neck like a leash; a woman, not much his junior, was cradling a small babe in her arms.

“Stay here if you’re too afraid,” Marcia got her feet, trying to keep low as she bent at the waist, “I shall return for you.”

Lazarus felt his eyes widen and anger rise inside of him as he watched her step purposely in the opposite direction, as to keep him hidden from the Romans.