One of several. Try to find them all.
“Decane Quinte Maximine,” said Mogurix. “You and your contubernium, crucifigite eam.”
Quintus saluted and ordered the men holding Barb’s patibulum to drag her to the upright post of the cross. There, they threw her on her back to the ground. Barb gave a "whoop" as the breath was forced from her lungs and she grimaced with pain as the rough soil and rocks of the floor again ground into her shredded back.
Quintus asked for the "tool bag" only to find that his men had forgotten where it had been placed. After a few well-chosen curses from the Optio, the leather bag was located and brought to where the Goth girl lay.
"Are you ready to feel the bite of our nails, slut?" taunted Mogurix. "You might think you have experienced all the pain we have to offer you – the sack, rapes, flogging, and the march here - but you have no idea how bad the remaining libita (treats) will be,” he said with a chuckle. Turning to Quintus, he said, “Show her the new gemmae (jewelry) she will wear.”
Quintus grabbed two spikes from the bag and held them before Barbaria’s face. Six uncias lengths of forged square iron, with one end, worked to a moderately sharp point, and the other flared to a large, flat head.
[The iron used in Gallia Narbonensis was sourced in Roman Britannia in the Weald just as much of the lead used everywhere in the Empire came from the British Pennines. These ores were refined into forged ingots transported by the Classis Britannica (British Fleet) to the continent for distribution throughout the Empire. When the iron got to Narbo, it was fashioned into these cruel spikes by local ferrarii (blacksmiths).]
Barbaria stared in horror at the hard, pointed nails. She had known all along that she would be nailed to the cross, but seeing these sharp, black spikes brought home the fact that her flesh would be penetrated by these. Barb was, by nature, defiant. But, faced with this incredible attack on her body, she could only shake her head and whisper softly, "Bidja, bidja (I beg you, I beg you)!”
Mogurix knelt and took her head in his hands. "I love when you beg like that, German bitch. With your face covered in your father's cum, you look and sound like the slut you are. But I can promise you that we shall show nulla misericordia (no mercy)!”
“Quinte, clava eam (nail her)!”
Two-thirds of the identified Roman iron ore mines in Britain are in The Weald.
