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Rufus laughed. “As I found out too.”
“Then keep her in your bed.” Felix rose to his feet and drew his cloak about his shoulders. “And I shall keep the gods happy before their altar.” He left Rufus to finish his breakfast.
When Bethan appeared with the other slaves to start their chores, she seemed unperturbed by the night’s events, except on closer inspection, her cheeks remained a little flushed and she swung her hips as she walked past Rufus. He shook his head in a mild rebuke. It would not be good for her to flaunt her wares so in front of the other men. She belonged to two men already and that was sufficient.
Chapter Eleven
The days were long and the work hard. She might spend the night in Rufus’s arms, but in the day she was a slave and charged with many tasks, mostly cooking or gathering food and water. The men worked the fields or made repairs to the buildings and walls. Gradually, the slaves overcame their mutual distrust and started to become friends. She laughed with Awen, who in turn teased the men with her bad jokes. They ate together and exchanged stories, some true, but mostly fables of great heroes and gods. Only in the evening did they go their separate ways. Bethan listened out for Felix’s summons and dutifully bared her flesh for him and bent over his makeshift table of sacrifice. There, she revelled in his ability to bring out her passion for sex and in particular the glorious climaxes he commanded her to deliver.
He might be firm with his hands and hard with his thrusts, but he always left her needy for more. From that chamber with its scents and statuettes, which Felix brought back from the various markets he visited, she went to Rufus. Her stamina grew and rather than wait for the morning light, he took heart from her rising confidence and claimed her the moment she lay on the bed next to him. Unlike Felix, who kept her bent
over with his manly body out of her line of sight, requiring her to use her imagination a great deal, Rufus was happy to explore exotic positions and even allow her to mount him by sitting astride his strapping thighs.
They giggled a lot. Kissed, too. They actually spent more time cuddling and talking than fucking, often conversing into the early hours. It led her to believe he might be less barbaric than what she’d originally thought. She’d always assumed she’d be with a warrior, even a barbarian, like the men in the North. Secretly, she fantasised about marrying a Roman soldier. Never, before she’d met Felix and Rufus, had she imagined she would be a gladiator’s woman. A freed gladiator was a better choice; a legionnaire might be called away to fight in distant lands. As for whether she wanted Rufus to be her equal, she wasn’t sure.
She tried to teach Rufus the language of her people, which was easier to speak than the Latin of the Roman. His own tongue was that of the Gauls and he taught her a few words of that in exchange. When he wasn’t busy with his tasks, he would often carry the laundry to and from the stream, which she would then hang from the branches of the trees to dry. His bronze skin had not lost its sheen and the red streaks in his hair glowed like rubies under the sun. What she particularly liked was watching Rufus and Felix sparring.
They would do it every morning with the wooden swords and blunted spears; weapons they had fashioned for practising. Felix was the bigger, stronger man, whereas Rufus was agile and able to duck and weave around him. She admired their stamina and finely honed muscles.
One of the slaves had fought a battle with another tribe and once Felix found out, he trained the man to act as a guard. Felix’s trust in his slaves was exemplary and none of them had tried to escape. If they had, Felix was entitled to execute the absconder or torture them in some terrible manner when recaptured. It wasn’t necessary as they remained loyal to him. He rarely punished and when he did it was usually with harsh words rather than cruel whips.
Rufus was certainly friendlier, more approachable and a consummate lover, which sometimes brought tears of joy to her eyes. What she hadn’t expected was her need for Felix’s commanding ways and the leadership he brought to the small community. All of them agreed, as they rested under the boughs of the trees one midday, that they felt safe with Felix.
All seemed to be well until three weeks after they arrived at the farmstead. Rain, which was typically common throughout the year, had failed to materialise. Awen muttered about the well drying up and the men hated carrying water up from the streams to irrigate the fields. The soil was parched and cracked in places. The wheat was failing to thrive.
In his courtyard, Felix paced the flagstones and gazed up at the blue skies and wispy clouds. Bethan hovered close by, holding a tray with a beaker of wine. Felix wasn’t interested in drinking. Rufus folded his arms across his chest and glanced across at her. He frowned and kicked a stone across the yard.
There was something about Felix’s expression that worried her. They blamed her! It was her fault. She was supposed to appease the goddesses and instead, things weren’t working.
“You truly intend to do this?” Rufus asked.
Felix halted his pacing. “The gods demand punishment. We have not given them sufficient pleasure, so they require pain instead.”
“Or perhaps you’re relying on the wrong gods,” Rufus said gruffly.
Bethan held the tray tightly in her trembling hands. She’d rarely heard the men argue.
Felix lifted a finger and jabbed it in her direction. “The right gods, maybe the wrong girl.”
Rufus’s eyes flared into angry points. “No. You know that’s not true. You lust for her. Your cock is hard the moment she bares herself.”
“The land is bone dry and if my seed in her cunny is insufficient, then I must plant it elsewhere.”
He wanted a different woman! The idea appalled her. To be turned out for failing in her duties would break her heart, especially if she couldn’t see Rufus anymore.
“Please, Master,” she piped up. “I will try harder—”
“Hush, slave.” Felix held the palm of his hand out to silence her. “This is not a matter for you.”
She hung her head.
“You know what I must do. She will bear the gods’ punishment.” Felix stormed out of the room and Rufus hurried after him.
“She will not be able to do it. She’s not ready.”
Tears trickled down her face. This couldn’t be how it ended. Things had only just started. She realised not only did she want Rufus, but she had to keep Felix by her side, too. Both men were the key to her happiness. Whatever was required she would do. She placed the tray down and straightened her back. She would submit and then the rains would come.
Chapter Twelve
