Demand to know the fate of your men.

“Where are my men?!” You demand, straining at your bonds in a futile attempt to test their strength.

The queen looks down at you with disdain, her voice is one of arrogant triumphant. “They're all alive, but they were so poorly trained and lead defeating them was more like capturing pigs than fighting soldiers. Now they're safely at sea on a Phoenician trireme, but where they will land, only the Moirai know. Perhaps it will be to fight in the arena at Paestum, or labor in the mines of Las Médulas, or even to be used for the perverse pleasures by the nobles of Sodom.”

“Whore!” Anger gets the better of you at the thought that you have so failed your loyal men. “By Mars Gradivus I swear I will find and avenge them!”

The queen gives an amused grin, pleased that her words have so provoked you. “Don't worry Roman, you will share in a similar fate. You have been spared for now because we have need of your body.

“What do you mean woman?”

“By Tyche, the irony of the goddess is delicious.” The queen smiles. “You were sent to enslave and eliminate me and my sisters, but now you're the one who is captured and will render aid to my people.”

“I will never aid the enemies of Rome!” Your words are true and no idle boast. “You'll have to kill me first slut.”

“Warriors are blessed with an honorable .” Marpesia eyes narrow in condescension as she lectures you. “But dogs are beaten and tied for service. Roman, you will be our bitch. My warriors are going to you and from your loins our Amazonian ranks will grow.” The queen begins to walk around the table, continuing her proclamation. “Once you're spent and your seed drained you will then pay for your arrogance and your crimes.” She stops at the foot of the table and glares down at you. “You will be brought before the entire tribe and humiliated and tortured for their amusement.” Again she begins to circle the table. “However, when your punishment is through you will not be granted a noble , oh no, instead you will be paraded back to your garrison, without your men, naked and in chains, to explain your utter failure with the knowledge of your defeat seared in your mind as well as branded into your flesh.”

Queen Marpesia gives you one last glare, but only for a moment. Before you can answer she gives orders to the cloaked woman in the shadows; “Priestess, prepare this bitch to begin his service.” And with that, the Queen of the Amazons leaves the room.