In the forests of Gaul, a Roman Army was on the march. Surrounded by their Gothic Foederati allies, the Army under Marcellus’s command made its way ever closer to the city of Valence, where the enemy commander Nebiogastes lies in wait with his barbarian horde. Scouts advanced beyond the main Army as the young General sat upon horseback while trotting forth through the Gallic territory with a beautiful woman latched to his back.

Though Sigefrida should typically be traveling in the rear of the formation with the rest of the followers, Marcellus had ensured that she was not forced to march across the vast distance between their previous encampment and the location of their enemies. Instead, he had her ride in the position behind him upon his mount, much to the ire of the Romans and Foederati alike.

Such an action was not only against the regulations of the Roman Army but also heavily disfavored by the soldiers beneath Marcellus’ command. Despite this, he did not care in the slightest, as he felt the safest place for the woman he loved was by his side in the center of the formation. After all, they were marching deep into enemy territory and could be ambushed at a moment’s notice.

However, despite the kind gesture by the young General, his slave was not happy. She was forced to endure the angry stares of thousands of men as she clung tightly to her master. Such a thing was enough to make even one with the most stalwart of hearts falter under pressure. Because of this, she kept her face pressed against Marcellus’ back, unwilling to look around.

Though Marcellus did not mind such a thing, after all, he enjoyed the warmth she provided him, even if he was equipped with a thick bronze Lorica Squamata around his torso. He pressed his hands around her own as he whispered in a voice so low that only the two of them could hear it.

“I am sorry for making you put up with such a thing, but you know how I worry about you. If we were to be ambushed and something happened to you, I would never be able to forgive myself…”_.

Behind closed eyelids, Sigefrida’s ice-blue irises twitched as a rosy tone flushed over her ivory cheeks. Every time her master spoke sweet nothings in her ears, she felt her heart race in excitement, only for it to come crashing down into a complete state of depression. As a lowly Suebi slave, she could never be with her master, not so long as she wore this collar around her neck, nor until that woman drew her final breath.

Even if she were to somehow be with her master intimately, she would never be able to become his lawful wife nor carry his legitimate child. Such thoughts caused the gorgeous woman to feel as if her heart had been wrapped in a cage of thorns, the slightest beat driving her organ to be pricked by the sharp edges.

Of course, Marcellus remained unaware of why Sigefrida fled from his embrace every time he attempted to get closer to her. If he had known of the severe suffering, his mother had inflicted on the woman in her youth, or the repeated beatings she received for gazing upon him fondly during their adolescent years, he was liable to strike his mother as hard as he could upon their next encounter.

Instead, he was forced to feel despair every time she rejected one of his advances. The only reason he hadn’t given up by now was that he was smart enough to realize she had feelings for him, too. Despite this knowledge, He did not know how to coax the woman’s hidden emotions out of the depths of her heart.

While the Roman General and his barbarian slave internally dreaded their lot in life, a group of Suebi skirmishers hid within the confines of the nearby forest, gazing upon the Roman Army as they marched through the woods, blissfully unaware that they had been surrounded.

The leader of this armed group of barbarians was a large and fierce man named Selmirus; he was the Chieftain of one of the many Suebi tribes that had infiltrated into Roman Gaul after crossing the Rhine. Since then, he and his men had been terrorizing the Roman Province.

Though the usurper Constantine III had allied with some tribes like the Franks, others were still ravaging the landscape while murdering, looting, raping, and raiding their way across Gaul. The fact that barbarians like these could run freely in Roman lands at all was a testament to just how weak the Empire had become over the past few centuries.

Selmirus wore the skin of a Wolf over his head, signifying that he was a mighty wolf warrior. Beneath this wolfskin cloak was an iron spangenhelm, which protected his skull from oncoming blows. Adorned across his broad chest and the rest of his torso was a mail coat, which showed he held significant wealth as a tribal warrior.

The man’s sharp blue eyes glared into the distance and witnessed the sight of a platinum blonde-haired woman latched around the Roman General with a collar around her neck and a loving smile on her pretty face. He could instantly tell by her features that she was likely to be of Suebi descent. The very idea that the Romans had enslaved his people and turned them into their playthings filled his black heart with rage.

As such, he immediately shouted in the Suebi tongue for his warriors to advance on the marching Roman Army. They were near enough by for the Romans to hear the echo of the shout resounding throughout the trees. Thus, Marcellus was quick to get into action.

“Enemy Ambush, Testudo Formation!!”

Rather than press forward on horseback in this challenging terrain, Marcellus instantly dismounted from his horse and raised his shield in the air as he dragged Sigefrida into the center of the shield wall, which formed a tortoiseshell around him and his men.

Arrows were launched from within the woods, into the roman formation, crashing against the shields, and sticking to them like pincushions as the Barbarian warriors charged towards them. Marcellus smirked as he made a snarky comment to his slave about the situation they found themselves in.

“Aren’t you glad you were by my side now?”

Sigefrida was far too frightened to comment on this properly. Instead, she clung closely to her master, afraid that she would lose her life when separated from him. Tears streamed from her beautiful blue eyes as Marcellus grinned from ear to ear with excitement. As he did so, he roared out to the men next to him with an authoritative voice.

“This is where the fun begins! Right, boys!?!”

The Romans immediately chanted their battle cry as the Barbarian warriors rushed against their shield wall. The moment the enemy clanged against it; the formation stood firm. Instead, the blades of the Roman soldiers protruded through the gaps. They thrusted towards the bodies of the Barbarian warriors, ripping into their flesh and spilling their blood as their corpses fell to the ground.

Sigefrida refused to open her eyes as she held onto her dear master. Though such a thing made it difficult for him to fight back, Marcellus still managed to thrust his blade into an oncoming enemy. The Barbarian warriors attempted to batter away at the shields of the Roman soldiers. Still, they would not break. Eventually, they withdrew from their futile actions and stood nearby, waiting for the Romans to respond. Yet the Romans did not fall prey to the trick, as Marcellus continued to order his soldiers.

“Hold strong! Do not break ranks!”

Upon seeing that the Romans chose to hide behind their shields like a bunch of cowardly turtles, Selmirus called out in his native tongue towards the formation. Though he knew it was unlikely that any of the Romans spoke his language, it was not the Romans he addressed, rather the beautiful slave he had seen before the attack.

“Pretty woman! Tell your Roman Masters what I say to them, and I promise you that after I have slaughtered these bastards, I will spare your life!”

Sigefrida’s ice-blue eyes widened in shock as she realized the barbarian Chieftain was speaking to her. Just when she was about to curse him out, Marcellus gazed over at her and realized that they were dealing with the Suebi yet again. As such, he quickly asked his loyal slave to translate for him.

“What are they saying?”

The beautiful blonde woman stared away from her master with an enraged expression before revealing what the Chieftain had said. This immediately caused Marcellus to smirk, as he could quickly tell how furious she was. However, he merely placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her encouragement to continue.

“Go ahead, translate my words; I’d love to see what this barbarian has to say…”

What started as a Suebi ambush had now resulted in a negotiation between two hostile parties, the result of which had yet to be determined.