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“Two coins, at most,” I said succinctly. “I’d say one, but you are not without other merits which make you desirable.”
She turned her head from my gaze, but I could see the crestfallen look on her face. I would take it no further, the point driven.
“Aia, you mistake my intention.” Though it pained me slightly, I raised my body to prop myself up on one elbow as I looked down at her. “I wish to possess you…completely. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”
She shook her head slightly, her confusion apparent on her face. I fought with my tongue to find the right words to explain myself.
“I want you to bake bread,” I finally said, “just for me—here in this place, on the battlefield, in my villa in Rome.”
She turned her head back to me, her eyes searching for answers. She seemed in shock and unable to speak in response, so I made my intentions clear.
“I would give you worth,” I stated.
For a moment, I thought I saw her eyes swell with tears before she blinked rapidly, and they were gone. Her hands began to shake, and I wrapped my fingers around them.
“Aia—will you bake bread for me?”
Her beautiful lips parted and gave me my answer.
“Yes, Lucius.”
A noise off to my side informed me of the return of Sergius. I looked to the doctor with a scowl as Aia quickly pushed herself away from me and stood beside the cot, straightening her dress. The doctor glared at her as he approached and checked my dressing.
“You are coming along nicely,” he said. He stood and looked to Aia. “A word, slave.”
I saw her hands tremble at his command.
“I will have words with you,” I said quickly to the doctor. He paused and nodded. “My progress is sufficient, and I will begin to make plans to return to the legion camp.”
“You are not yet ready for battle, Tribunus,” he said. “Another week, perhaps two-”
“I’ll be returning to the legion camp in two days,” I informed him. “I can continue to heal from there. You will prepare all that I need to take with me to further my recovery.”
“If you insist, Faustus.”
“I do.” I sat up slightly and looked from the doctor to the slave girl and then back again. “I wish to speak to Cassianus. Bring him to me.”
“He is likely on his way to the gladiatorial games,” Sergius said. “Juno’s day approaches.”
“Upon his return then.”
“I will inform him of your desire for audience.”
I glared up at the doctor.
“You will inform him that he has been summoned,” I corrected. “I expect him here.”
“Of course, Tribunus.”
He again checked the dressing on my wound in silence, poured another cup of foul liquid down my throat, and took his leave, his plan to discipline Aia forgotten. I took the opportunity to continue my previous conversation with the slave.
“I would give you worth,” I told her.
“I don’t understand, Faustus.”
“I will buy you from your master,” I clarified, “and you will accompany me to my camp. You will continue to tend my wound and provide me with other distractions from the battlefield.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at me.
