Steamy Dreams
Placing it on the bed, she nodded toward it.
"This is all of it, my mother's gems and jewelry." The hulking gladiator quickly and unceremoniously dumped out the bag's contents on the bed. Emeralds, amethysts, rubies, citrines, and even a few small diamonds glittered in the late afternoon light. There were other varieties of gems also, too many to quickly name, in the priceless hoard that lay before them.
The gladiator picked up a silver-chained necklace and stared at the gem dangling below. The precious stone bore an orange tint kissed with sun's gold, like a burnished bronze only more vibrant somehow. It reminded the gladiator of the color of a fine, freshly brewed ale.