Imperatrix (Gladiatrix Book 3) by Whitfield Russell

Author:Whitfield, Russell [Whitfield, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Myrmidon
Published: 2015-06-02T16:00:00+00:00

88 A.D.

Dacia

Amagê’s rest day seemed to be spent by most of the encampment sleeping off their hangovers.

Sorina wandered here and there, unwilling to return to her own tent and equally unwilling to visit Amagê because she knew well how it would end. The Clan Chief’s words played in her head over and over again. And though she tried, Sorina could not find fault with them. Teuta was not formed from the same clay as she and Amagê and only circumstance had thrown them together in the ludus.

Sorina told herself that parting with Teuta would be fairer to the younger woman, but she knew that she lied even to herself. Loyal Teuta, who followed her everywhere and asked for nothing in return. Teuta who had given her strength when she needed it, an ear to which she poured out her heartache. Teuta who had borne her madness over Lysandra and Eirianwen with no complaint. Others would have walked away, but not her.

But what else to do? Sorina was too long in the tooth to think that she loved Amagê – she hardly knew her. But there was something intoxicating about the Sarmatian Clan Chief. She had the magic as had Eirianwen, but Sorina had never wanted Eirianwen that way, seeing her more as daughter than lover. But Amagê excited her in a way that Eirianwen ever had and Teuta no longer could.

She paused in her walk and laughed at herself, garnering a few looks from a small group of Getae who looked the worse for drink. She was acting like a lovestruck girl. Sorina of Dacia, the Right Hand of Decabalus mooning over a younger woman. And the truth of it was that Amagê would cast her aside as soon as she saw fit. She was Clan Chief and she’d want her bloodline to continue.

Be that as it may, Sorina knew she had to make a decision. She turned and made her way back through the encampment to her tent.

‘You’ve been gone all day,’ Teuta said as she crawled in through the flap.

‘Yes.’ She struggled out of her cloak and coat, and sat crosslegged. ‘We need to talk, you and I.’

Teuta’s face fell. ‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘About last night. I was drunk . . . Amagê gave me some of her brew and it . . .’

‘Made your skin sing?’ Sorina finished for her.

‘Yes. I am sorry,’ she said again.

‘I am sorry too, Teuta. I have treated you badly.’

Teuta’s eyes welled up with tears and Sorina despised herself for despising this show of weakness. ‘You have done nothing wrong, it was I who . . .’

‘No,’ Sorina cut her short. ‘I too lay with another last night.’

‘Because you were angry with me,’ Teuta wiped her nose on her forearm. ‘I understand. Please forgive me.’

Sorina sighed. ‘There is nothing for me to forgive. I have been less and less to you these past months. We are like branches on the river, Teuta, drifting away as the current around us changes.’

‘What are you saying?’

Sorina steeled herself.

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