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breast.”
    Breaking. The second time she had spoken of it. He ground his teeth together. Whatever lay ahead, he would bear it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t frightened, somewhere down inside.
    “But Agrippina, how can she…?” the other sister sputtered. She must be called Agrippina to distinguish her from her sister.
    “Livia Quintus Lucellus withholds that pleasure from us, Julia. Well, perhaps we will see you and your slave at a victory banquet. Once you have been sated by him, you may be in the mood to share.”
    The curtain dropped and his owner gave the signal to move on.
    He stared straight ahead and concentrated on not limping. The full horror of being a woman’s slave in decadent Rome came home to him. He wondered if he could hold out without submitting to her. He’d at least make her work for it. No matter the tortures she employed. He swallowed, his mouth dry. He was a warrior. His troop had joined therebelling Gauls to face the overwhelming Roman legions with valor.
    He only hoped he could face what lay ahead.
    “L EAVE US ,” L IVIA said to Lucius Lucellus, the freedman who ran her household, and the two maids who normally attended her. The three bowed themselves out of her chambers doubtfully, but there was no arguing with her tone. Livia turned to the barbarian, standing naked, his wrists chained behind him, in the middle of her chamber. The lamplight glowed on intricately woven tapestries in vibrant colors and marble busts on pedestals. A delicate bronze figure of Pan sat on a carved wooden sideboard. She could command the elegances of Roman culture, next to which the giant naked barbarian seemed even more out of place. The wound in his shoulder stood out lividly, and he had fading bruises over his ribs and his right hip. But these wounds were not his first taste of combat. Old scars on thigh and chest gave tribute to his history as a soldier. He stood, green eyes glaring at her, not like a slave at all in spite of the chains.
    Perhaps Titus was right. This might be difficult. What had she been thinking to buy a slave like this? He would be nothing but trouble. She should have Lucius take him right back down to the market and dispose of him for whatever price he would bring.
    But somehow, she had no intention of doing that.
    She tapped a finger to her chin, studying him. “How well do you speak Latin?”
    “Well enough,” he grunted, not bothering with any term of respect. Not promising. She could compel the slave of course. The Companion in her blood gave her control over human minds if she called up its power. But one couldn’t compel a human constantly. It took effort and energy. Shemust sleep. Her attention would inevitably wander. Then, of course, using the power of her Companion in public would reveal that her eyes went red. So she needed this barbarian willing, or at least inured to being a slave, if he was to be of any use as a pretense of a bodyguard. It was time to see if he was intelligent. She had a theory about slaves and she meant to test it. Romans considered that slaves were not truly men, that they had no animus or spirit, and therefore no honor. But Livia didn’t believe it.
    “Let us come to an understanding, then.” She paused. “How did you become slave?” She knew what must have happened.
    He swallowed. “I was given into slavery by the general of the Gauls when his army was defeated.” The man’s eyes were hard.
    “So you are not of the Gauls?” That was strange.
    “I had a troop of two hundred Cantiaci only. We crossed the channel from Centii, our homeland, to scout out the Roman numbers. We expected the Romans to attack Britannia. I joined my troop with the Gauls who were rebelling against the Romans when we were cut off from our ship.”
    So he was Celt. No wonder he looked so fierce. “And in defeat that general gave your men to the Romans as part of the truce.” It was the way of the Romans. They decimated their enemy’s army at the same time they