Worth

By Shay Savage

Lucius Aurelius Faustus is the Tribunus over Caesar's legions in the west, fighting against the Gauls.  He's harsh, unforgiving, strategic, and deadly on the battlefield.  When an enemy's sword pierces his side, he must retreat to Mediolanum to have the wound treated.  Once the medicus has done all he can, he commands Aia, a slave woman, to watch over Tribunus Faustus as he heals.  As Faustus appraises the beautiful young woman, he knows she'll be tending to more than just his wound.
To distract him from the pain, Aia regales him with stories of her childhood as a slave, and Faustus finds himself strangely drawn to her.  When he demands further distraction, she obliges without question as a slave must.  Her gentle ministrations command the attention of the Tribunus, and as he learns more of her, he sees her without the veiled eye with which a master views a servant.
Aia is only a slave, her value measured by nothing but a pair of coins.  Another man already owns her, and she is far beneath one who commands Emperor Caesar's armies.  Regardless, Faustus finds her warm touch and genuine concern for his healing intriguing, and his inexplicable attraction for her deepens.
A man of his station can never acknowledge feelings for a slave, but during their time together, Faustus begins to understand her true worth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shay Savage
• Release date: May 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502290656

Shay Savage

Shay Savage is an independent author from Cincinnati, Ohio, where she lives with her family and a variety of household pets. She is an accomplished public speaker and holds the rank of Distinguished Toastmaster from Toastmasters International. Her hobbies include off-roading in her big, yellow Jeep, science fiction in all forms, and soccer. Savage holds a degree in psychology, and she brings a lot of that knowledge into the characters within her stories.From the author: “It’s my job to make you FEEL. That doesn’t always mean you’ll feel good, but I want my readers to be connected enough to my characters to care.”Savage’s books many books span a wide variety of topics and sub-genres with deeply flawed characters. From cavemen to addicts to hitmen, you’ll find yourself falling for these seemingly irredeemable characters!

Book preview

Worth

Shay Savage

Copyright © 2014

Shay Savage

All Rights Reserved

Cover design by JA Huss

Editing : Chaya

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems-except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations embodied in review or critical writings without the expressed permission of the author, Shay Savage.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Table of Contents

I

II

III

IV

OTHER TITLES BY SHAY SAVAGE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I

The cart bounced, and rippling pain traveled swiftly up my side.  It radiated from the point where a sword had entered my left side and then up to where my arm met the rest of my body.  I felt need to vomit, but swallowed back bile rather than soil the back end of the rickety, horse-drawn cart.

I tightened my hands into fists and stared up at the wooden roof above me.  A young man wearing his battle-scarred armor stepped into view and knelt beside me.  His dark hair creased his forehead as he looked down upon me with concern in his eyes.

Antonius, where the fuck are we? I snarled at the young man.  I looked down at myself, sans armor, wearing nothing but the tunic normally beneath it and a subligarium wrapped around my lower region.  There was a long tear up the side of the tunic, and blood seeped into the woven fabric despite the bandages wrapped around me.

Nearly there, Faustus, Antonius replied.

Nearly where, you cocksucker?  I clenched my teeth as the cart hit a rut in the road.  Another pain seared through me.

Mediolanum, he replied.  He gripped the inside wall of the cart to steady himself.  There is a hospital there with a good medicus named Sergius.  He has skills as a surgeon.  He can sew your wound.

Fucking Gauls, I growled under my breath.  Flashes of the battle and of the young Gaul who stabbed me took over my thoughts.  I tightened my hand around the edge of the bench where I lay and remembered the feeling of my own sword cleaving his body in two—punishment for his grievance against me.  They know they can’t win, but still they fight like dogs for a bitch.

They do at that.  He smiled half a smile and raised an eyebrow at me.  There are far fewer of them fighting today, thanks to you.

I huffed a breath out my nose, which caused further pain up my side.  I closed my eyes tightly and willed the pain to pass, but it remained.  I let my mind return to the battlefield where I commanded a Legion of Rome against the insufferable Gauls who still attempted to defy the emperor’s rule.  I lost a few good men on the field today, but the blood of the Gauls was far more prevalent.

The cart jarred as it hit another deep rut in the road.  I gritted my teeth and bit into my tongue to keep the scream from passing my lips.

Not much longer, Antonius assured me.  He placed his hand on my forearm, but I shook it away.

If the gods let me live so long, I muttered before the cart again bounced wildly, and a scream passed my lips right before all went dark.

When I finally managed to open my eyes again, the first thing I saw was her.

She had flax-colored hair, as brilliant as the sun on a summer morning and eyes of dark blue nearly as dark as midnight with long lashes to frame them.  Her skin was creamy, smooth and flawless.  As she leaned over my body, the thin folds of her dress billowed to show the curve of her breasts beneath the fabric.  The cold bronze collar coiled around her slender neck marked her as a slave.

It had been long since I had laid eyes upon a woman, slave or otherwise.  Though there was a camp near the battlefield tents filled with whores for the taking, I did not deem it necessary to frequent the place.  My thoughts were always of blood and battle, not the baser needs I prescribed for my men.  I felt myself beyond such things.

However, the slave woman above me turned my thoughts from both battle and wound.

Even in my injured state, my first thoughts were of having her on her back in my bed, her thighs spread wide and her knees bent before me.  I wanted to feel her skin in my hands, taste her sweat on my tongue, and feel her body give way to my cock.  I wanted to hear her screaming underneath me as I plowed into her over and over again.  I wanted to feel her insides clench around me as I filled her with my seed.

Hold his arms.

I blinked slowly and turned my head as much as I could to see a man crouching beside me, bent over my side.  He was grey-haired, wrinkled, and ancient-looking.  My tunic had been cut up from the side and removed completely.  As the old man pushed my arm out and away from my wound, I felt slender fingers wrap around both my wrists as they were brought over my head and held tightly.

Can you hear me, Tribunus Faustus? the old doctor-surgeon asked.  I looked to him and tried to focus on his face, which was framed by the dark wooden beams on the ceiling above him.

I swallowed once, closed my eyes, and nodded.

Drink this.  I felt a cup being held to my lips, and I opened my mouth to take in the foul-tasting drink.