Here they stood, at the river bank. The Romans on this side, the Celts on the other. She saw him in his checked cloak, fastened with the golden brooch she had given him. There was a torque around his neck and in his fist he held a spear that had seen the entrails of many foes. His moustache had grown even bigger and his long hair, white with lime water, hung down over his shoulders carelessly. His bare chest showed the scars of previous battles under the patterns of woad. A fearsome man indeed. Her husband...

The Roman's hand was still firmly on her shoulder. The same hand that had slipped up her skirt the other night. She could still feel his hot breath in her neck, although he was no longer groaning. She knew he too wore scars on his chest. She had scratched and bitten him, slapped him in the face and tried to pull out his hair, but he had taken what he wanted... Romans treated their hostages differently than the Celts.

After a struggle, he had tripped her and pinned her to the ground. He had cast himself upon her like a wolf feeding upon a deer and he had done his deed.

" I gave you what you wanted, Roman!", the chieftain shouted," Now give her back."

The translator repeated the words in Latin and a strong hand pushed her towards the ford. She heard him say something to his men and they laughed.

For a moment she hesitated. Then she turned around and looked at the translator.

" Tell your master that he should bring me. It's not more than polite for him to escort me to the other side... After that night."

She saw the smirk on the man's face as he heard her words translated. Again he said something in Latin and the soldiers laughed even louder.

Then he took her hand, bowed slightly and guided her through the shallow water.

" He says he is grieved to part with you", the translator said.

" Tell him to wait a moment, for he will get his reward."

She gestured to the champion of the tribe and within a moment he was behind the Roman, a dagger ready in his hand.

" Decapitate him."

Before the words could be translated or the Roman could even open his mouth, the iron slit through his flesh and a moment later his head rolled down into the grass.

Her husband looked at her in surprise.

" It's better that there should not be more than one man alive that has slept with me", she said.