For a Roman's Heart by Denise A. Agnew Page B

of this, explain his feelings and thoughts.
    That had never happened to him with a woman before. Not one.
    Knowing her parents treated her so abominably and that she’d suffered an illness without a medicus present also stung him. Moreover, he realized he’d been too gruff with her when she’d shown up at his door.
    He wanted her, no doubt about it. His lust raged almost out of control. He’d practically lost it when he’d kissed her, almost tried to seduce her. The way she’d trembled in his arms, he could have accomplished that goal. Taste, caress, conquer. If it had been any other place or time, he might have taken her.
    Now was not the time to think about Adrenia. He must concentrate on the task at hand.
    He led his men forward with resolute intention. They’d put down rebellion without a problem. The square, with its small forum, mimicked a smaller-scale Rome. In the middle of the square a gaggle of men numbering around one hundred had taken over. Looters fled from the shops, running in every direction as shopkeepers chased them or yelled from doorways.
    Terentius knew the auxiliary forces with him could turn either way. The centurion from this cohort resented Terentius’s command even though Terentius told him he’d give him full reign over his own men. In his many experiences with auxiliaries, he’d discovered they weren’t as different from legionnaires as many thought. Terentius determined this outing would result in success. Just before the skirmish started, Terentius looked toward a set of buildings and saw a man standing inside an alleyway. From this distance he couldn’t say for certain, but it looked like Sulla.
    Terentius’s insides clenched. His horse trembled under him and moved its feet, as if it could feel his tension.
    Victor came up beside Terentius. “What is it?”
    “See that man—” Terentius cut himself off. “Damn it.”
    “What is it?” Victor asked.
    “I thought I saw Sulla.”
    “We’ll be seeing the bastard around every corner, no doubt.”
    “Huh.” Terentius grunted his derision. “Even if that was him, we can’t go after him now.”
    After a short pause, Victor asked, “What are these peasants upset about anyway?”
    “Everything,” Terentius said. “And nothing. There are rumors off and on that the shopkeepers are being urged to overcharge by the governor and those extra monies are passed on to the governor.
    Victor snorted. “How likely is that?”
    “Somewhat likely. But it doesn’t change a whit what we’re here to do.”
    Victor nodded. “Not a whit.”
    Though Terentius wanted to check and see if the man he’d spot in alley could be Sulla, Terentius couldn’t afford to break ranks. He shoved back the resentment and returned his mind to present business.
    The auxiliary centurion lined up at the left side. Over the heads of the auxiliaries, who walked rather than rode horses, Terentius looked at the auxiliary centurion and nodded. The man returned the nod, and Terentius used his whistle to alert the men. The auxiliary centurion called out orders, and they marched forward into the mess. Precision march, shields in position, lancea held at the ready, the soldiers approached. Victor kept his spot behind Terentius, ready to take command should Terentius fall. The rioting gaggle saw the soldiers forming and broke apart. Oriton sent his men into a charge.
    Terentius’s group broke to the right as they ran down twenty men that took a stand. As a unified whole, Terentius and his group charged into the much smaller gathering. As he surged into the crowd, confidence flooded him in battle lust. His heart pounded, body poised for action, breath accelerating as muscles bunched and coiled. The fray was on as soldiers attacked the hapless rioters and looters. Terentius growled, his call a warrior’s demand for subservience. He would be obeyed. He’d win, or those opposed would die. Weapons clashed, shields held back ineffectual blows from men who didn’t stand a