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Defender of Tarraco | Wolk | 4

 

Seeing no other interesting options, I merge into the celebrating crowd on the main plaza. About two thousand people of both genders and all stati imaginable are here. There are slaves, lowly freedmen, and normal citizens. All are having grand fun. The food is delicious, free, and abundant. The wine is plentiful, too. And so are beautiful women of all shapes and sizes. In this warm climate of Hispania, most citizens are wearing nothing more than a white toga. And even that is only to distinguish themselves from slaves. The slaves are usually dressed in skimpy light tunics, which, too, leave little to imagination.

Despite having just had amazing sex with Olivia, I find myself checking out the better looking women in the crowd. Well, such is my male nature. I doubt I will ever have enough.

I notice a rather small group of patricians keeping to their own kind on one end of the plaza. They must be wealthy, snobby landowners, who live luxuriously by renting their land out to farmers. I faintly hear them discussing politics and complaining about the quality of wine. Snobs.

But there is one reason my eyes stay glued to their group. The reason has an angelic face and a perfect slim figure. She is very young; no more than twenty. Her raven-black hair is well cared for and cut by a good barber. It only comes down to the middle of her neck, encasing her beautiful face into a nice frame, in a skilful attempt to emulate the latest fashion of Rome. Her breasts, as far as I could tell through her toga, are nice, firm, and a perfect size for her petit frame.

She catches my gaze and returns a promising smile. I run my tongue across my lips briefly and look away. Catching a nearby citizen, I inquire who the girl is. He tells me, that she is Victoria, the youngest daughter of Claudius Gridius, who is one of the wealthiest people of Tarraco. Claudius owns four iron mines, to the south of Tarraco. Slaves mine ore. As much as they can before they die of hypothermia, exhaustion and asthma, that is. Gridius hires local blacksmiths for next to nothing to make some of the finest weapons in the empire, which are then sold to Italia. Despite, or perhaps because of all this, Victoria is a one rebellious daughter. She likes to be independent of her father and showcases it whenever she can.

I thank the helpful citizen and turn my sight to the group of patricians again. Surprisingly, Victoria is no longer among them. Odd.

Then my warrior instincts turn on, alerting me that someone is sneaking up behind. I spin around and see Victoria. She is stepping softly on her toe tips, her hands are pressed against her chest and her face bears an expression of a hunting panther. Since I busted her, she froze in that position. We both realize how stupid it is and start laughing together. Man, she is even cuter when she laughs.

I stop first. “So, Victoria Gridius, is it? It is a pleasure to see you.”

“Ugh! I hate that name.” She puts on an annoyed grimace. “How about Victoria Lustrous.” She displays her winsome smile.

“Hmm, that sounds like the name of some barbarian queen.” I tease her.

“Ooh,” She comes closer to me. “I’d love to be a barbarian queen.” She runs her index finger along my jawbone. Her touch is soft and feminine, yet somehow resembling the strength and independence of a wild cat at the same time. “I’d order my army to capture a big Roman General for me.” Her hand travels down my neck and onto my chest. “Yes, a strong, brave man he would be.” Her palm caresses my chest.

I lean closer and say quietly: “You need no army to capture a Roman General.” Just four inches from each other’s faces, we stare in each other’s eyes and grin naughtily.

“It was a pleasure seeing you, General.” She starts walking away, but drops barely loud enough for me to hear: “you know how to find me.” With that, she sends me a farewell smile and leaves. I shake my head: what a girl!

I enjoy the celebration for a while, stuffing myself with delicious foods and trying some of Tarraco’s finest wines. But I couldn’t do it for long. A priest approaches, asking me to come to the Temple of Mars to aid in the festival.

 

Do I go with the Priest?


          Of course.

 
 
 

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