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Legatus

Saxa's Journey : Book Two

By: Pasha Baker
Published By: Blushing Press
Copyright: 2016© Blushing Books® and Pasha Baker
16 Chapters / 44,700 words
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Caught in her fascination of the handsome centurion Gaius, Saxa has become settled in her new life as his pleasure girl, and awaits him as he continues the Roman campaign across northern and western Europe with his promise to marry her when he returns.

Then a threat to her life causes her to run, her complacency destroyed as she finds herself in the arms of a powerful stranger.

Marsus tries to keep his life orderly as he directs the vast Roman legions in the north, but he is sent spinning into emotions he hasn't accessed in many years when a beautiful young woman is practically dropped onto his doorstep.

Gaius is caught up in a turmoil he didn't expect when he discovers the woman he has allowed into his world has left him for another. Watching her in the arms of a superior officer is harder than facing a dozen enemies at once.

As Rome continues its campaign to control the world, the three lovers must find their own ways through this rough new terrain, both of the heart and the body.  

Publisher's Note: Legatus is a newly edited and greatly revised portion of a book previously released under the title Saxa. This work includes the spanking of adult women and explicitly described sexual activities, including anal play. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.

~ This is an Amazon Exclusive Title ~

Chapter One

For the first few days without Master Gaius, things did not seem much changed in the centurions’ tent. Hemsgale and Saxa were busy taking down and setting up camp whenever Centurion Bors was ordered to move, along with the many other chores required for surviving life in a Roman legion. Saxa tended to remain hidden in the tent for the most part, feeling ill at ease without her master’s presence living among thousands of hardened soldiers. Other than that, Saxa felt like things were going well, and would only be better when Gaius finally returned.

“I do not like her.” Bors’ gruff voice woke her one night. “She thinks she is still a priestess, still higher than me. She refuses to smile, does not stand when I enter the room and she barely talks.”

“Give it time, Master. I am still teaching her the ways of being a slave, but I agree; she still believes she is due the respect of a priestess. If you’ll just be patient with me, I promise you I will make sure things get better.” Saxa smiled through her tears as their voices continued in an even quieter tone she could no longer make out.

Hemsgale does like me; she just has to defend me from her master. He is right, I do not like him, but for Hemsgale’s sake, I will try to show him the manners due a master from his slave—even though I am not his slave. Saxa went to sleep feeling a bit more content than she had for a while since Gaius had left.

 

Saxa tried to use any means she could to show her gratitude and understanding to Hemsgale, but the stoic slave kept her distance, wearing her anger like a shield. Within a week their troops had joined with the Roman army’s main camp. Though they found a spot in a bare area, other soldiers soon surrounded them with their own tents. A few days after their arrival, Saxa stood at the edge of the hill they chose to camp upon, amazed to find the Roman army encompassing the hillsides as far as she could look, line after line of tented tanned hides stood and the grounds teamed with men. At the center stood a grouping of camps larger and more solid than the rest where she assumed the highest officials were stationed.

“Come Saxa. We must forage herbs and roots for dinner,” Hemsgale said as they finished cleaning up that afternoon. Saxa choked on her drink she was so surprised at the older slave’s addressing her directly. Hemsgale grabbed two baskets, holding one up for Saxa to take.

“I’m glad you invited me along, Hemsgale! Learning about types of herbs, berries and roots were some of my favorite lessons at temple.” As they wandered through the brush and trees Saxa felt truly relaxed and happy for what seemed the first time since she’d been abducted; the hiking and foraging reminding her of when she was a young apprentice. “Sister Ingrid took me on almost all of her excursions into the mountains.” Saxa grew excited when she spied a plant with pale, fuzzy leaves. “This is lamb’s ear! It is very good for ointments, especially for cuts and scrapes. We should definitely gather some.” She sliced near the base of the plant with the tiny knife Hemsgale had given her to use, “There see, if you leave the root and some of the leaves, the plant will quickly revive and we can come back for more at a later time…” Saxa patted the leaves gently. Hemsgale grunted as she brushed by Saxa, grabbing at what was left of the plant and pulling it up root and all. Saxa stared after her as the woman presented Saxa with her back as she continued her walk. Why does she make this so difficult? Saxa sighed as she picked up her pace to join the older woman. When their baskets were full and the two were tired and dirty and the sun had almost set, Saxa joined Hemsgale at the edge of a high rocky bluff that overlooked a valley of endless trees.

“Give me your knife.” Hemsgale held out her hand. Saxa frowned but knew it was just the woman’s naturally surly demeanor. She did as told.

“Now the basket…” The blonde woman didn’t even look up as she started reorganizing the herbs and mushrooms in her own basket.

“That’s all right, I can organize it myself.” Saxa settled down on the ground to do so.

“No.” Saxa jolted to the feel of something hard and cold against her cheek. “Hand me your basket.” Hemsgale pressed her knife harder against Saxa’s skin.

“You can have it, Hemsgale.” Saxa carefully pushed her basket away.

“Stand up you silly, fat bitch.” Hemsgale annunciated every word and Saxa, no longer daring to question, moved backwards as Hemsgale advanced.

“Hemsgale… please,” Saxa stumbled forward when she felt soil begin to crumble due to her being close to the cliff’s edge. “I really am sorry for my betrayal. I didn’t mean to insult you or our masters by running off. I only wanted to go home, and now I no longer do. I want to be with Master Gaius. Please, can we not be friends again?”

Hemsgale’s brow furrowed as she shook her head. “We were never friends.” The other woman’s lip lifted in a sneer. “I know you don’t care for Master Gaius. You are not worthy to be desired by such a man as Master Gaius. He deserves someone who would fight for him, someone who would love to do things for him, to cook for him, to sew for him, to clean for him. He deserves a woman like me. So, throw yourself over this cliff and preserve Centurion Gaius some dignity. Let him forget you and find himself a slave who is honored to belong to such a good soldier as he is.” Hemsgale quirked her head in the direction she wanted Saxa to go as she continued to advance, forcing her backwards towards the sharp, rocky precipice. “If you leap high, it might make your death quicker.”

“I do care for him, Hemsgale, please! We are planning to marry when he returns.”

“Ha!” Hemsgale let out a sardonic laugh. “You think that makes things better?” She squinted as she shook her head. “The way you abuse that poor man; I do not like you. Master Bors does not like you. We agree that you are no good for Master Gaius.” Hemsgale shoved her, causing Saxa to slip causing the rocks to loosen into a small avalanche that tumbled down the sharp decline. Before she fell, Saxa made a hard lurch forward and to the side in order to avoid Hemsgale’s knife as she grabbed at the hardy scrub brushes that clung to the edge of the rocks. With an angry shout Hemsgale slashed her blade down, striking Saxa near her shoulder. Saxa pulled away, but Hemsgale continued, her blade cutting into Saxa’s skin. Saxa cried out as she grabbed at Hemsgale’s ankle, causing her to stumble and fall to her rump. Knowing she had been given only a moment, Saxa pulled herself up, grasping desperately at the brush to pull herself over the ledge, tripping and scrambling up the rocky edge until she was able to fall against the hillside away from the cliff. Panting with effort, her reprieve was short-lived as she realized Hemsgale was rising, lifting herself to standing at her impressive height of almost a foot taller than Saxa and glaring fiercely as she righted her blade to strike again. Saxa still numb to the idea that Hemsgale meant to kill her, stared up at the other woman, fixated on how her messy, pale hair and fierce expression gave her the look of an avenging goddess from some northern isle. Saxa squawked as she fell back, Hemsgale’s blade registering on her shin. Finally coming to, Saxa wrenched herself away, scrambling further up the hill as Hemsgale shouted and stabbed again. The blade sliced through her ragged cloak, hitting Saxa in the outer thigh, but she knew she had to keep moving. Finding a new embankment, Saxa rose to standing and began to run. Unable to think, she raced through the trees back towards the Roman encampments, not daring to look back.

“Stupid little whore! You think you are better than me? Better than the Romans? You don’t even deserve to be a Roman slave!” Hemsgale’s voice sounded close behind.

Saxa had no idea where she was going, she only knew that if she dared stop for breath the woman behind her would kill her. A tree’s grasping root caught Saxa’s foot, causing her to take a tumble down into a ravine. Hitting bottom, Saxa found herself in a dried creek bed. She cried out as she attempted to rise, grasping her ankle at what felt like a thousand tiny arrows piercing it, looking up to find her pursuer standing at the top edge watching her. Hemsgale took only a brief pause before she began to make her way down the rocks and dirt. Saxa cried out as she forced herself to move on, grateful to find her limbs relatively unbroken as she fought the high bushes further into the trees, further away from Gaius’s camp.

“Get ready to be chopped into bits, little bitch!”

Saxa finally broke through the thick brush into a clearing, slowing as she saw a file of Roman army tents. A sense of relief filled her and she turned to view her tormentor as she took several long strides into the broad opening. Hemsgale halted at the edge of the trees. Saxa, seeing the camps made her attacker reluctant, hurried to work her way deeper into the vast lines of officers’ tents, walking past a few soldiers and many slaves sitting and working at their sites.

“Hey! Where did you come from?” Saxa’s eyes met one soldier’s as he stared in amazement at seeing a woman stumbling near his tent. He looked about to see if anyone was with her before shoving aside the armor he’d been working on to stand. Knowing that a horny Roman soldier was not much safer than the woman she was fleeing, Saxa ducked back into another stand of trees and hurried further into its depths.

After fighting several more expanses of prickly brush, small valleys and heavy woods, Saxa stopped to lean against a tree to catch her breath. “Dear Freyr! Heed me please! Give me your knowledge and strength. I am sorry I have failed you. Please show me through this predicament!”

Men’s deep voices forced Saxa to throw herself into another thick bramble of brush. She stiffened as they drew in close and she could hear the large group as they made their way nearby, not seeing her tucked deep inside the brambles and leaves. When she was certain they had passed, she began to pull herself from the brush only to find her clothes a tangled mess about her, the rough fabrics caught tight by the many thorns and twigs she had forced herself deep into, her work only seeming to trap her even further.

At least I am safe. I will stay here till nightfall when I will less likely be seen. Then I will take the trail through the trees and begin my trek north. Exhausted, Saxa laid her head against a branch, too bewildered to cry, too tired to care anymore. Funny how all I want is to see my master again now that I am certain I never will. I am sorry I fought with you Master Gaius. This hunger in my chest hurts worse than the one in my belly. If you were here, none of this would have happened. Saxa closed her eyes, almost smelling his musky scent and feeling his protective embrace around her. Goodbye, my dear Master. Please know that I love you.

 

Chapter Two

 

Saxa woke to the sound of rain hitting the tent’s sides. She raised her head, the crick in her neck and the branch shoving into her hip reminding her that she was actually not tucked safe in her master’s arms, but sleeping outdoors, on the rough ground and in a tangle of brush. Shifting around she also realized what was spattering through the brambles was not rain. She jerked herself out of the poking bramble, untying the choking cloak free and grabbing at the bush’s limbs to pull away from the stream of piss landing too close to her.

“Produce yourself!” A deep voice ordered through the darkness surrounding her; the owner of the heated stream. “Announce yourself or I shall gladly pin you to your spot with my long sword!” She fought the brush, trying to go in the opposite direction of the man, hearing the branches snap behind her as he shoved his way through. Saxa let out a yelp as a hand grabbed at her naked thigh. “A female beast, aye? Produce yourself, bitch! I do not fear showing a female spy the same treatment.” The hem of her tunica caught on branches and pulled high, leaving it so that his blunt fingers raked against her delicate flesh, causing her to fall further backwards into the stabbing branches. “Come here, wench!” The man upped his attack, breaking branches away in his earnestness to get at her. Saxa fought a hand that grasped her tunica. She kicked and smacked at it as it clenched hold of the fabric, but it refused to budge, instead keeping her there so that Saxa, in her desperation, tried a different tactic and began to worm her way out of her clothes. “AAAEEE!” Saxa screamed as her hair was caught in the grip of another hand, it registering tight upon the sensitive grouping of hair at her nape, causing her to forget her fight to instead try to dislodge the shocking pain by clawing at the stranger’s hands. Her inattentiveness lost her more ground and the man circled his other hand further around her thigh and yanked her through the slashing brush.

Saxa fell to the ground in full fight, her assailant grabbing at her flailing limbs, curling his arms about them to stifle her struggle. Much more familiar than she in the art of battle, the man only gained more ground every time she lashed out at him, continuing until she found herself painfully crushed to his armor clad chest.

“Calm down!” His voice boomed in her ear, causing Saxa to finally stop, finding herself with her arm forced high behind her back, the man’s unrelenting form wound tightly around her as his massive arms kept her immobile, his face buried near her ear so that she felt and heard his own windedness in their skirmish. “You are lucky I didn’t use my sword to seek you…” His low, gravelly voice informed her. “Now…” Saxa felt his arms loosening, “I am going to release you.” Saxa remained beside him, no longer fighting, no longer trying to run. She shook her long hair out as the man stood next to her, watching. She gave him a quick, half smile as her eyes caught his then lowered, as she adjusted her wrenched and worn clothes into their correct positions. “Good.” She gave a demure glance in his direction only to find a hand poised to grab her again. In desperation she kicked, shoving her foot into his belly, causing him to fall back a step as she made a dash for the trees. The man, having barely faltered from her heavy push gave chase, throwing himself at Saxa, circling his arms about her waist before he took them into a tumble. Saxa found herself again wrapped up tight beneath his formidable heft.

“Please! Let me go!” she groaned, trying to shove him off, but by weight alone he stopped her. The flickering light from the torches revealed very little of the shadowed man atop her, but she quit begging when she saw a flickering reddish glow where his face should be. Curious, her eyes searched the darkness trying to make out any of his features, to see if there was something odd in his eyes, but the cast of a shadow from his head blocking the torchlight made it impossible. Realizing the glow she was seeing was not on his face but beyond his flesh, Saxa screamed, watching his darkly glowing grin shift wider and a subtle flashing light brought out his eyes from the darkness. “You are not a man!” She screamed at the strange being in her own language, upping her struggle as she urgently fought to get away.

 

Despite her screaming in a strange tongue and fighting him, the legatus refused to move. Marsus could feel the girl’s plush curves pressing against him beneath her crude excuse for a gown as she struggled to make him get off, but it only made his erection harden further. His eyes relentlessly searched her face. No extensive scarring, no giant, hairy mole, no loose, wonky eye and her form is comfortably plump beneath mine. He could find nothing displeasing. “Where did you come from, beauty? Has someone sent you to spy on me?” He tilted his head as he considered further. “Or is it that you desire to seek me out? Heard of Legatus Marsus have you? Hoping to make a bit more coin than you cull from the rest of the Roman swine?” He chuckled as she panted from her struggle, her head turned away as she looked blindly into the darkness beside her.

“Are you all right, Legatus?”

“Found you a rat?”

“This bitch comes to kill you, my lord?”

A few of his men had heard the noise and hurried to help their leader, blades drawn, one soldier resting his sword against the girl’s jugular ready to plunge it easily to score her death at his leader’s request.

“Leave us!” Legatus Marsus shouted, shoving the man’s knife from his captive’s throat. His men grumbled as they filed past, forgotten by their leader who was staring down at the woman again.

He turned his gaze back to her, mesmerized by the beauty of the hollows and planes that built her face, finding them more pronounced in the moody light. Her dark hair framed her pale flesh making it glow like the moon in its night blanket. Not one for impetuous acts, he surprised himself when he gripped the girl’s chin making her turn it towards him so he could view her better. Overwhelmingly pleased by her delicate beauty, he pressed his mouth upon her full lips. When she tried to move her face away, he held her still, gripping her hair as he kissed her deeper, his tongue taking her depths until he released her, the both of them gasping. “Name your price, girl, for you have won me and I will pay it.” But she only shoved at him to get off. He lifted himself away, but kept a grip on her arm, yanking her to standing before shoving her ahead of him. “If that’s the way you want it, then start walking.”

He guided her along the dark edge of trees to the entrance and through the gate of the tall, wood fortification wall, her assailant barely noticing when the two soldiers posted on either side moved into clipped states of attention at his arrival as they entered. They walked along the main path, which seemed more like a road due to its width, that drove through the center of the tents. She couldn’t help but notice how different this new camp was from her centurion master’s. The tents were larger and more finely made, the way lined with long poles of gold with dark red standards and tapestries draped and moving with each breeze. The men who wandered about them wore uniforms that were more carefully made; decorated in polished gold and formed leather details depicting the faces of their gods and symbols that brandished their being of higher ranks. When they came to a broad, open tent in the center, her assailant marched her around it to a large, enclosed tent behind. This, apparently, was his tent as he worked the door flaps aside before he shoved her through.

Inside the man positioned himself before the entrance, making certain she had no way to escape. Tossing his helmet to the side, he started to remove his armor and weapons as he slowly advanced, making Saxa have to walk backwards to keep the few feet between them. “My men call me the lion, beauty,” he informed her with a grin that matched his nickname’s reputation. “If that is the case, consider yourself my captured prey… Blame it on your beauty, or blame it on me and my want to rut between your softly formed thighs, but it is no matter, my sweet rabbit, for in this moment, at this time, you should know that you chose the wrong bush for hiding.”

Saxa looked about desperately, continuing to back away while trying to keep track of her attacker. She knew it would not be the same experience she had had with her master with this bulky man. For one, it was apparent he was used to getting his way. For another, by the look of his clothes and the large, well-filled tent about them, he had to be much higher in rank than her master. She released a sob as the back of her legs hit something hard and she stumbled backwards to land upon a wooden and metal chest with the strange man stopping inches from her, not touching but standing solid and threatening to her quaking frame. In the glow of his oil lamps, she was beginning to realize who this man was. From conversations between her master and Bors she remembered them discussing a leader they both revered who had come from farming stock and, by his baffling abilities in both battle and strategy, had raised himself up to the highest honor of legatus beneath the Emperor. She knew who he was, not by his demeanor or by his finer quarters, but because she saw what had made him what he was in the darkness. The man was no longer just a farmer’s boy. At one point in his life, something else had decided to occupy the space of his body alongside his hard soul; the fire of his hair gleamed almost bloody at its base, a faint thundering echo seemed to join his deep voice whenever he spoke, behind his pale blue eyes she could easily see a flash of something wicked and calculating. As she had done in her temple, with the few people she saw possessed, she had the predilection to understand what is meant to happen when such a creature chooses to possess a human. She knew this was not just any creature, in the second sight of her eyes she could see it was a god. And now she faced it. Saxa clenched her eyes closed forcing her tears to stop and pursing her lips to keep from crying out. She had no other option than to accept this fate and straighten her spine to force herself to look into the face of her assailant as he waited, watching her carefully.

Marsus felt a strange surge of respect alongside his lust as the girl lifted her face to his. He could see she was still terrified when her eyes opened, wide with fear, noting that her jaw grew tight with her determination. He felt a renewed desire for her as he gazed at her; her wide eyes set so far apart that any further she would have become a freak instead of the beauty she was, her skin pale with a golden cast, her long, loose coils of dark red hair. As she ducked her head in sudden bashfulness at his lengthy perusal, he grabbed her chin and made her lift her face again, not ready to quit his study. He stared at her for another long moment before decidedly tilting his head and kissing her. His heavy body shoved her back upon the chest, his hand releasing her in order to prop them both, keeping his weight from crushing her as he continued to ravish her.

“What have you found, my dear friend?” A new man came out from the shadows of the centurion’s lair and circled. “Oh, what a lovely morsel. May I join?” The blond haired man was already undoing his beltaes as he moved in closer.

Marsus turned to look upon the well-dressed man while still crushing the girl beneath him.

“Uhhh… is she… special to you?” The blond man faltered, taken aback by the fury in the legatus’ eyes.

“No…” Marsus snapped then, realizing how the sharpness of his tone gave him away, he rose to standing, but kept a firm grip on the girl’s arm. “No, Senator. Would you mind leaving my tent for the rest of the evening? Pious, you as well.” He addressed a second man who remained in the shadows behind the proud blond man. At a glance, Saxa could tell the other man was a slave due to his simple clothes and the silver collar fitted about his neck. While the first man huffed in outrage before turning to leave, the other man nodded, hurried to gather items he had strewn across a wood table, then, taking a short bow towards the legatus, he followed the other man out into the night.

 

As the door flap to his tent closed and was tied, Legatus Marsus grabbed his new captive by the arm and steered her towards his wide bed at a far corner. Saxa resisted when she saw his intentions.

“I have never raped a woman before,” the legatus informed her as he dragged her to his fur and leather covered bed. “Granted, I am considered to have a lusty taste for inflicting pain as well as pleasure… Tonight I do not want to have a battle, girl.” Getting annoyed with her reluctance, he picked Saxa up, gripping the thick hair of her head as he forced her mouth to his, he making the process achingly slow as he sought out every inch of her mouth.

Saxa went limp.

The legatus pulled back and gave her a suspicious look. “Are you a virgin?”

Saxa blinked back at him, not sure how to answer.

“I like experience.” He decided her answer from her pause. “But I will make an exception for you, beauty.” He shoved her onto his bed using his heavy body to hold her still as his hands grappled the fabric at the neck of her tunica, tearing it in two while Saxa cried out in indignation as she tried to shove him away.

He ignored her shoves as his eyes tried to center on the bountiful breasts now freed of her sack of clothing. When she turned away from his kiss, the legatus, unbothered by her disinterest, moved on to other places, licking and kissing his way down her satin flesh until he found and suckled a puffy, pale nipple until it was tight. Saxa panted, her arms pressed away by the stranger as he traced kisses across her chest, worshipping the plump rounded edges of her breasts until he came upon the other nipple and repeated suckling it into a tight peak. Saxa cringed and gasped in surprise and betraying pleasure, horrified when she realized the man atop her was chuckling due to her gripping and pulling at his curly head. She dropped her hands away, causing him to rise a bit, growling at her refusal to enjoy herself. He sneered as he tugged down his braccaes. “Look upon my hunger, wench,” the strange man ordered as he grabbed Saxa by the hair, forcing her to look down as he produced his ridged erection, its ruddy length pointing up at her from beneath the chest armor he still wore.

“No! Please!”

“Shhhh… come now, beauty.” Her terror softened the large man and he let her go, instead brushing his lips across her cheek, “I do not want to hurt you.”

“Let me go please my lord!” She stared up at the huge man. Up close he looked even more ruthless than he did far away. His face showed he was well aged with a long pale scar from some horrid battle slashing from beneath his right eye to his lip causing it to remain in a slight sneer.

He shoved his face to her hair, breathing in her scent as he groaned. “I want you, girl. I cannot let you go.” He held her head still as he kissed her face, his touch surprisingly gentle as he caressed her with his lips and hands, touching kisses to her cheeks and throat. She closed her eyes, turning her head to meet his pleasuring lips when his mouth moved across her cheek. He growled in reply, carefully urging her to widen her legs to accept him between them as his mouth encouraged her rise to arousal.

For a moment Saxa no longer cared, she wanted the battle worn man. Partly due to her missing her master; the feel of him touching her, holding her, pleasuring her, taking her. She lifted her arms to curl them about the man atop her, holding onto him as his lips promised to pull her into a sensual abyss.

But her eyes flew wide when she felt the press of his hungry penis to her sex, drawing her out of her complacency.

“NO!” she screamed, shoving at the large man until he pulled back in surprise, releasing her and sitting back perplexed as he watched Saxa crawl away to sit in the furthest corner of his bed.

The legatus frowned as he resettled himself and rubbed his face, trying to find his way through his tired and slightly drunk brain. “This lusting fogs my brain…” He sat a moment trying to gain his notorious unflappable self. “Come here.” He ordered after a long wait. “Show me your body.”

Saxa remained in her far corner watching him warily.

“I grow impatient with your game, girl!” She cried out as he grabbed her and forced her to standing before him as he remained sitting on the edge of his bed. His face was cold and implacable as he again gripped the edges of her tunica. Saxa stood aghast as the stranger methodically tore her clothing until the front was parted in two.

“Hold!” He shouted as Saxa tried to cover herself. He grabbed her to make her rise, but Saxa lashed out with her free hand as the other gripped the torn edges of her clothing. The man relented, lifting his hands up and away to show he wouldn’t touch her, “I only want to see you, girl…” his voice was a low purr of desire as he leered at her, motioning for her to stand up straight. Saxa shakily rose. “Remove your hands.” He nodded to where she was gripping the fabrics over her breasts. Saxa swallowed as the strange man’s eyes languidly fondled her naked body, watching as he began to stroke himself.

Although she was so exhausted her body shook, she remained still before the strange man, her chin lifted as she felt his eyes slowly moving up and down her body. She closed her eyes to the way his tongue licked his upper lip and the way he hungrily studied her breasts, her belly and then the dark curls at her nethers before he lifted his eyes back to her face. She did not move as she heard his lusty sounds, trying to hide her disgust while feeling grateful at the same time.

Saxa hurried to cover herself when she heard the groans of him finishing and opened her eyes to find him lying back upon his bed.

“Come here.” His deep voice rattled the tent as if he read her mind and found out how it was continually considering ways she might escape the large tent. Tentatively, clutching her torn tunica together she moved in closer as he sat up. Saxa tried to pull away when he tried to part her torn top again, “shhh, shhh… I am not going to hurt you…” She stilled at his words, finding he was instead inspecting the gashes Hemsgale’s knife had created along her upper thigh and back. “Looks like you’ve been in a fight, little rabbit…” He pressed her to sit beside him as he rose and poured water in his washing basin and knelt next to her. “Someone else wanting a taste of your pretty wares no doubt.”

“No. It is for food.” She was surprised by the large man’s gentleness as he washed the cuts, she felt his easy strength as he shifted her leg in order to wash the other wound at her shin. She didn’t balk as he urged her to move, instead lowering her tunica as he tended to the cuts at her shoulder. Afterwards holding still as he dabbed a stinging, strong smelling salve to all the cuts.

“Did they… do anything else to you?” The legatus eyed her seriously as he lifted her heavy hair to look for bruises around her neck. “You don’t have any other wounds?” He asked, finding the random bruises from her fall not quite matching the type he was looking for.

Finished, the legatus sat down beside her. He let out a sigh before he reached out, Saxa determined to keep still as the stranger parted the lower half of her torn tunica to place his large hand high up on her naked thigh. “Best get used to me, little rabbit,” he explained as he kept it there. Saxa wasn’t sure what he was doing, but knew better than to shove it away, instead putting her hands on the bed at her sides she waited, too aware of his fingers brushing against her sex, with only the rent edge of her torn tunica keeping his flesh from hers. She waited for him to go further but he just kept it there, his rough fingertips lightly stroking the silkiness of her inner thighs as she kept them tightly together. With a cough, he finally rose and gathered a woven blanket and a couple of sheepskins from his bed. He placed the bedding on the floor beside his bed. “You may sleep here tonight.” Saxa was grateful to the man as she tugged the wool blanket over herself and quickly fell asleep.

 

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