Warrior Mine (jenlisa)

Chapter Three

Lisa's body was flushed warm having been thoroughly sated; she un-wrapped the arms of her companion from around her waist as she rolled up and out of the bed. Taking one last glance at the mark on her bed mate's shoulder, she slipped her black silk robe over her vigorous body and exited the room. Walking to one of the windows overlooking the city lights below; she stood in her living room.

"Mistress?" Philippe questioned.

"Tea please Philippe, I would very much enjoy a cup of tea."

"Yes Mistress" he bowed and immediately set upon making one for her.

He returned, placing the tea set on the table as he knew she would take it when she wanted. He had grown concerned that his mistress would seem so melancholy when she would have company.

"Thank you Philippe, rest now."

"Yes Mistress, Good night."

Lisa stood with her hands crossed behind her back casually but with no movement whatsoever.

Finally, she spoke in a whisper "Millennia have passed, but words have not lost their sting my Goddess."

"Will you not have metanoia?"

"No little one, you are who I want my little serf"

"But I am nothing my Kurios (lord/master); I am your slave."

"You are everything, to me. I will not have metanoia; I seek Pharaoh's permission at Apollo's Chariot's rise. No one will touch you as you are mine and I will not take what we will freely give each other once we wed."

"But Archelaos (master of the people), you can have anyone you wish or desire. Anyone of great standing, you are the Pharaoh's Chosen."

"And I have the right to choose who I wish, that is you Rosé" the warrior replied.The little serf had started serving as a child while they grew together, one in the father's shadow as he served as Centurion for the Pharaoh, the other indentured.

The soldier had earned the position not by name but strength of blade, by fortitude and tenacity. Having had followed on the heels of the father as he ordered his group about, wearing a small wooden sword and mimicking the sword swings of the others. When older, being allowed to train with the soldiers.

As the child's mother had died in childbirth, the father had kept them with him when he traveled. One listening and learning battle strategies, practicing and becoming proficient in most weaponry. The other keeping watch over their household as expected.

The men, who at first smiled at the child, were later very impressed with the skill and knowledge displayed by the youth. It was during a fierce battle, when the Centurion was injured, that the youth became the leader by holding the group together and urging them into battle until reinforcements could arrive.

News spread quickly of the 'little general'; a moniker the men had called the child turned leader that stuck in the field.

The legion commander heard of the little general and began watching, observing the leadership and qualities shown while in charge of the centurion's group while he recovered.

Being very impressed, he offered the title of Tribunus to the young soldier.At such a young age of only 20 summers, many were hesitant to serve for such a young Tribunus whilst others ridiculed those who did for following.

But seasons of battle changed their opinions when the young leader's group would emerge victorious and with the least amount of casualties battle after battle.