Reluctantly

Agrona glared at her captor with defiant hate for a moment longer, her body trembling with fury before she slowly bent her knees and knelt before him. She looked at her sister out of the corner of her eye, then turned her gaze back to Titus, every bit of her face showing her murderous rage.

"What are you called, rebel?" he asked quietly.

"I am called Agrona. I led my people after my husband was slain. Do your worst, Roman dog! I have no fear of ****."

The Roman smiled smugly at her, looking at her in silence. She wanted nothing more than to cut his throat and see his blood spill onto the ground. She would give all she had for the opportunity to tear his life away. She tried to match his gaze, matching his arrogance with her hate, but the soft whimpering of her sister gave her a prickle of unease.

"I have no doubt you do not fear your own ****," he said softly. "You have fear for others though." He nodded towards her whimpering sister, whose neck was still stretched over the bowl, the soldier still standing by with blade at the ready.

"I knelt to you to save her life," Agrona hissed. "She had no part in what you call rebellion."

"She is part of your people. All of whom are guilty and condemned as rebels. And she is of your blood, the sister of a leader of rebels. Her life is already forfeit." Dierdre gave a keening wail at his words, her body trembling with panic. Agrona watched, her eyes narrowed, trying to keep the horror out of her face as she expected to see her sister butchered.

No order came from the Roman, and Agrona looked at him to see him pointing to the group of captives.

"Bring those two to me," her ordered, and Agrona gave a quickly suppressed gasp as soldiers pulled two girls forward.

They were her stepdaughters.