She looks back at him (Agrona's point of view)

Agrona stared at the arrogant Roman with haughty disdain. Her attitude was in marked contrast with the other captives, most of whom cowered in despair. She wore a tunic and kilt, their obvious finery now spoiled by dirt and several tears. Despite that, and expecting her execution was imminent, she maintained her icy anger.

She had taken on the leadership of her tribe after her husband had died in battle against the Romans. Unfortunately, her husband's **** had been one of many among the tribal leadership, the veterans of warfare. She had claimed leadership of the tribe, but had been no match for the man who stared at her now. He had destroyed her supply lines, harassed her retreat, **** her into battle against her will, and ultimately destroyed her tribe. As she saw it, she deserved no less than ****.

The Roman dog was looking at her, a cruel smile on his face. "Bring her to me," he commanded. The dispatch rider barked an order and she was cut from the string of captives and led in front of him, her hands still bound before her. She regarded regarded him with undiluted hatred, taking care to show no sign of fear.

"Put this rebel on her knees," he ordered, the rider pushed her shoulder down but she resisted, pulling away and hissing defiance, her face stark and full of rage.

"I kneel to no Roman dog!" she snarled, looking like a wild animal brought to bay. She could see admiration in the Roman's face but he quickly suppressed his feelings as he stared at her coldly. The rider moved to **** her again, but the Roman leader held up a hand to stop him. He looked over the other captives, then pointed to one.

"Bring that one," he ordered, pointing. Agrona's defiance faltered, as she saw her sister Dierdre dragged in front of him. She bit her lip and watched as the Roman leaned forward to her sister.

"You are related to this rebel?" He said to the frightened girl in his kindliest tone, nodding towards her.

"Y..yes...yes...lord....She is my sister," Dierdre glanced quickly at Agrona and then away from her in evident shame at her own timidity.

The Roman made a gesture, and a servant placed a metal bowl on the ground in front of the Dierdre. She looked at it with frightened, tearful eyes, while Agrona glanced from him to the bowl to her sister in angry puzzlement.

"Bend this one over," The Roman ordered, pointing to the cowering girl. "When I give the word, open her throat and fill the bowl with her blood." Dierdre squealed in terror as she was bent over, her long red hair pulled to stretch her neck over the bowl. A legionnaire stepped forward with a blade in his hand, his eyes locked on the Roman's face.

Agrona looked at the implacable Roman, alarm and shock joining hatred in her face.

"On your knees, rebel," he said quietly. "Kneel before me or see your sister bled like a sow. Choose quickly."