was silent for a moment, her hands clenched in her lap. ‘And I still feel guilty. When I heard he was dead my first reaction was joy, joy to be free of him, and to have my chance to be with you.’ She turned her head away, staring into the room’s shadowed corner. ‘Nobody with a calling to healing should be able to take even the slightest pleasure in death, and he was still my husband. I felt so … ashamed of myself.’
Marcus put a finger to her chin and turned her face back to his own. ‘He spoke to me on that bloody hill, when the Second Cohort pulled our chestnuts out of the fire at the last moment, before the barbarian charge, and I swear he knew what had happened between us, or at least guessed. He made it very clear that he was going to call me out after the battle, but I couldn’t have fought him. I would have been forced to kill him, and that would have brought disaster on both of us. Whoever put that spear in his back saved me from taking my own life to avoid implicating us both, me for treason and you for adultery.’ He paused for a moment to stare into her eyes. ‘Anyway, he’s gone. We can either decide to make the most of where we find ourselves, or just waste our lives worrying about our mutual guilt. I know which I prefer.’
She looked back up at him, her eyes soft in the lamplight,shrugging the sleeves of her tunic off her shoulders, so that the garment was held in place only by its friction with the slope of her breasts. ‘And you’d like to know what my choice is? Why don’t you lock that door and ask me properly?’
It was another two hours before Marcus made his way back to the transit barracks, bone weary and yet elated beyond expectation. Rufius looked up expectantly as he opened the door to the barrack the four centurions had agreed to share. Julius and Dubnus were already asleep in their bunks, huddled down into straw mattresses. ‘Ah, so there you are. I had half a mind to call out the guard to look for you, it’s been so long, but Julius convinced me that you were likely just guzzling down the legatus’s Iberian red without concern for your elders and betters. Anyway, what have you been up to … you look like you’re dead on your feet, but you don’t smell of drink …’
The veteran centurion sniffed ostentatiously, his eyes widening as he did so. He leaned back in his chair and prodded the recumbent form behind him. ‘Hey, Julius! Julius, wake up, man!’
Their brother officer woke with red-rimmed eyes, sat up, shot Marcus a glance and subsided back on to his bed. ‘He’s back. Big deal. Let me sleep, damn you.’
Rufius shook him by the shoulder. ‘I think you’re going to want to see this. Or rather, I think you’re going to want to smell it.’
Julius sat back up with a frown, looked Marcus up and down and drew in a long breath through his nose. He stared at Marcus with a look of dawning amazement. ‘Bugger me …’
Rufius snorted. ‘I wouldn’t turn over tonight or the horny young sod probably will.’
Julius tried again. ‘You’ve … you’ve been …’
Marcus reddened, and Rufius pounced. ‘Yes, he bloody well has. While we’ve been sat here worrying that some nasty little thief might have clouted him and left him for dead in the dark, he’s been playing hide-the-cucumber. Not only that, but he hasn’t even washed the lady’s smell from his skin before coming back to gloat over us poor celibates. Didn’t they teach you to go to the bathsafter a tumble, eh, boy, or least get a washcloth and a bucket and do your best with that?’
Marcus opened his mouth to retort, only to get Julius’s cloth square in the face, still damp from his end-of-day wipe-down. ‘Have one on me, lad. Just don’t be settling down to sleep in here reeking like that or I’ll be as stiff as a crowbar all bloody night. Go on, there’s a bucket of water outside the door, go and wash it off like a decent comrade.’ He stopped, caught off guard by the look on
Marcus put a finger to her chin and turned her face back to his own. ‘He spoke to me on that bloody hill, when the Second Cohort pulled our chestnuts out of the fire at the last moment, before the barbarian charge, and I swear he knew what had happened between us, or at least guessed. He made it very clear that he was going to call me out after the battle, but I couldn’t have fought him. I would have been forced to kill him, and that would have brought disaster on both of us. Whoever put that spear in his back saved me from taking my own life to avoid implicating us both, me for treason and you for adultery.’ He paused for a moment to stare into her eyes. ‘Anyway, he’s gone. We can either decide to make the most of where we find ourselves, or just waste our lives worrying about our mutual guilt. I know which I prefer.’
She looked back up at him, her eyes soft in the lamplight,shrugging the sleeves of her tunic off her shoulders, so that the garment was held in place only by its friction with the slope of her breasts. ‘And you’d like to know what my choice is? Why don’t you lock that door and ask me properly?’
It was another two hours before Marcus made his way back to the transit barracks, bone weary and yet elated beyond expectation. Rufius looked up expectantly as he opened the door to the barrack the four centurions had agreed to share. Julius and Dubnus were already asleep in their bunks, huddled down into straw mattresses. ‘Ah, so there you are. I had half a mind to call out the guard to look for you, it’s been so long, but Julius convinced me that you were likely just guzzling down the legatus’s Iberian red without concern for your elders and betters. Anyway, what have you been up to … you look like you’re dead on your feet, but you don’t smell of drink …’
The veteran centurion sniffed ostentatiously, his eyes widening as he did so. He leaned back in his chair and prodded the recumbent form behind him. ‘Hey, Julius! Julius, wake up, man!’
Their brother officer woke with red-rimmed eyes, sat up, shot Marcus a glance and subsided back on to his bed. ‘He’s back. Big deal. Let me sleep, damn you.’
Rufius shook him by the shoulder. ‘I think you’re going to want to see this. Or rather, I think you’re going to want to smell it.’
Julius sat back up with a frown, looked Marcus up and down and drew in a long breath through his nose. He stared at Marcus with a look of dawning amazement. ‘Bugger me …’
Rufius snorted. ‘I wouldn’t turn over tonight or the horny young sod probably will.’
Julius tried again. ‘You’ve … you’ve been …’
Marcus reddened, and Rufius pounced. ‘Yes, he bloody well has. While we’ve been sat here worrying that some nasty little thief might have clouted him and left him for dead in the dark, he’s been playing hide-the-cucumber. Not only that, but he hasn’t even washed the lady’s smell from his skin before coming back to gloat over us poor celibates. Didn’t they teach you to go to the bathsafter a tumble, eh, boy, or least get a washcloth and a bucket and do your best with that?’
Marcus opened his mouth to retort, only to get Julius’s cloth square in the face, still damp from his end-of-day wipe-down. ‘Have one on me, lad. Just don’t be settling down to sleep in here reeking like that or I’ll be as stiff as a crowbar all bloody night. Go on, there’s a bucket of water outside the door, go and wash it off like a decent comrade.’ He stopped, caught off guard by the look on
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