Gisila tripped. A cruel tree had its root lifted to snag unsuspecting victims. There was a shout behind her in a language she could not understand. Her clothing - rough spun cloth, covered by a wolf pelt tunic, bracers, and greaves all tied on by thick leather chords - was half torn, the only saving grace being the strong wolf pelts that required those men dressed in blood cloth to retrieve their weapons.
Her knees stung and she felt her ankle was bruised, but she pushed herself back up as quickly as she could. A war-calloused hand seized her wrist and she was yanked backward, catching the lifted root again and falling with a hoarse cry. A powerful arm curled around her waist, locking her against the hardened leather breastplate. She could feel the details of his muscles through the wolf pelt, pressing right into her soft stomach.
A shiver and a drop of heat fell into a growing pool at the base of her stomach, and Gisila could feel heat race over her cheeks and nose. Laughter erupted around her, and the man holding her grabbed her wrist to pull her arm behind her while two others, also dressed in blood cloth with hard leather, walked around in front. Gisila whimpered, mumbling out pleas that she knew they couldn't understand and wouldn't answer. She cried out as her ankles were seized and then went rigid as a sharp, cold slab of metal slid against her neck.
"Silentium," hissed the man behind her. He had pinned her arm between her back and his chest, and now held the sword to her neck.
Gisila's voice faded into the stars above them, fleeing for fear of being the cause of death. Her limbs trembled, her stomach churned as she felt hands explore up her legs. Sobs came out staccato, trapped behind pinched lips so they had to escape through her nose. She shut her eyes tight, and another hand fell on her breast, pinching. It forced a yelp out of her that she would've rather remained inside, and her lower back tightened in an arch as she reflexively kicked one of her legs.
Laughter. The man behind her pushed his hips into her back as he pulled her waist back against him. Foreign faces, foreign bodies, and foreign words surrounded her, about to fill her.
"Desino!" said a sudden, new voice from behind. From where she had run from.
Gisila was dropped ungraciously with another wail as her ankle tried to accommodate her weight and she collapsed to her knees. She lifted her head to see another man, taller, with broad shoulders stepping rather calmly toward them. The three men with her had lined up quickly and now stood with backs straight and shoulders pulled back. The new man wore blood cloth too, but his armor was shiny. It reminded Gisila of the sun.
The sun bearer had a powerful jaw line, and strict cheekbones. His eyes were the color of the earth, though darker, and his hair was left in longer strands that were tousled. Gisila could see the muscles on his arms and legs, and they were chiseled and pulled tight.
He spoke in a voice that made Gisila quiver. She watched as the deep, harsh tones made the men attacking her flinch, their faces turning red then going pale. Her body still felt hot, while at the same time sick. She ached from the inside out. In a moment, the three men had run off behind the sun bearer, who turned to look at Gisila. Her throat tensed, she couldn't look away.
The sun bearer stepped up to her and curled his hand under her elbow. She instinctively cried out again and tried to pull away. Fear and a sensation of heat collected in her, spreading from her chest right down to her groin. He was stronger than the other men, he grabbed both her wrists and held them still while his arm locked her waist down.
"Sedere," he said. His voice had changed. It was smoother, lighter. "Sedere!"
Gisila gulped for air, and she shook against his powerful frame. He held her still, and she could feel his breath even under the hard, metal colored like the sun. It was steady, just like his gaze. The metal felt pleasantly cool against the heated expanse of her skin.
"Semper idem," the sun bearer said, heaving a sigh once Gisila had finally calmed down and stared up at him.
She blinked at him, frowning in confusion. He released her hands, and she curled them to her chest defensively.
"Scisne latine?" he asked. He sat with her beside him, their legs extending in opposite directions. He let his hand rest on the ground on the other side of her hip, and he gazed into her scared face. "I didn't think so, I didn't really expect it either."
Gisila visibly jumped when she suddenly understood what he said. It was stilted, with a strange tonality on the words, but she could understand him. He laughed, and patted her thigh with a heavy hand.
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