The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 6

ALEX FELT BETTER than she had in years, standing barefoot in the mud and manure of the street, looking around at what was probably a booming city. She was more than half-starved, still beaten to a pulp, and dirty as all hell, but she was happy. She was alive. And for the moment, she felt safe.

        The men were still talking beside her. They were both outwardly calm and friendly, with even tones of voice, but neither one took his hand off the hilt of his sword. She didn't blame them. If she'd met herself crawling out of that pit, she'd be nervous to see herself standing already, too. Well, leaning, she corrected.

        She noticed they were looking at her, so she looked between them. One taller, blond, striking blue eyes and a quiet voice. The other shorter, dark, with clear hazel eyes and a quick smile. The blond one was taking care of her, the dark one seemed to be his friend, or close enough in the command chain to appear as a friend.

        They seemed to come to a decision, exchanged a few more words, and the dark one took her bed of furs and disappeared up the stairs into the nearest building while the blond made exaggerated motions that he was going to help her walk inside. Alex watched the dark one carrying her furs away. She admitted that she wanted to be on them, but the desire to see if she could walk – even a little bit – was stronger.

        She turned back to the blond and lifted the hand closest to him, testing to see if she could hold her balance. She reached out to him slowly and he stepped close to slide an arm around her. Alex settled her hand on the back of his shoulder, his armor hard, but warm under her palm. She gripped his wrist on the other arm when he offered it to help her balance, and they took their first tentative steps forward.

        Walking felt good, even if it was just a slow and limping shuffle. A few people stopped to openly stare and he pointedly ignored them. She made it into the building without stopping for a rest, with him basically carrying her full weight up the stairs, but only a few steps inside the door. And it was only a short way down a hall to get to where they were going, but she had to stop twice more before thankfully being lowered onto the pile of furs where she'd been living, helped by both the blond and the dark soldier, who'd stayed in the room after arranging her bed.

        Food and water for her arrived after only a few minutes, and she dug in as the two men talked quietly. She hid a smile behind her hand at their even tones and relaxed posturing, wondering if they knew how obvious it was to her that she was the topic of conversation based on their hands hovering at their weapons.

        After a few exchanges, the blond left and the dark one stayed in the room with her. He talked continuously so was easy to ignore while she ate. She was able to clear the plate this time, and drain the full cup of water. Alex assumed that was because of the small rations they were giving her. When she was finished and full, she stacked the cup onto the plate and pushed them away from the furs, a clear sign in any language or time that she was done. She yawned, winced, stretched her shoulders a bit and held her bad rib so she could take a deeper breath, then lay down.

        Despite being fully armored, the dark one walked so lightly that he was almost silent as he stepped close and picked up her dishes. He closed the door as he left, but Alex noticed with a small and grateful smile that he didn't lock it. Sleep came quickly.

        She woke up feeling stronger. The light from the window slit was a flickering yellow, but the sounds of the city were fully awake. Alex assumed she hadn't slept for long on the basis that the room was still empty, and the lamp that the dark soldier had left was still burning warmly.

        Multiple sets of footsteps passed in the hall outside the closed door as she lay there and decided what to do. The room had the same basic layout as the tent, except the bed looked harder than the pallet, the floor was tiled, and the walls and ceiling were wooden. There was an elevated pipe with a spigot off of it for clean, gravity draining water above the wash bowl, and when she sat up and looked there was a just a pot – its use obvious – under the washstand. The same lump of hard soap she'd used before sat beside the wash bowl.

        Knowing the water would probably be cold and really not caring, Alex crawled across the room and used the washstand to pull herself up. Her balance was much better than earlier, but she still leaned her hip heavily against the stand. No use in getting cocky if it just meant that she would fall down. Opening the spigot brought water into the wash bowl. To her surprise, the water was cool, but not cold, and Alex filled the bowl as much as she figured wouldn't slop out too badly, and that she could still tilt to pour the water into the pot.

        She just used the first bowl of water to rinse the clumps of mud out of her hair. It didn't even seem worth it to waste the soap. She tilted the muddy water into the pot, rinsed the bowl, and then filled it again. She smiled at the memories of doing this as a child in the small tents and cabins that she and her father shared. Oh, Gigno, she thought, if only you could see this place. You'd be in your glory.

        Her gigno had loved history. He often told her about how he'd been a foolish soldier who'd fallen in love with words. When she was small, and her mother was still alive, her momma would laugh whenever he said that and reply that he'd fallen in love with a woman who loved words. Then he would agree and would always kiss her, no matter what they were doing when the conversation happened.

        Alex used soap in her hair on the third bowl of water, using the suds to ease the knots and tangles out between her fingers. It felt great to wash her hair and clear out most of the snarls. Thankfully, there were no lice or ticks yet, and she hoped to keep it that way. There was no telling if she would be allowed the oils needed to get them out if they got in, although she was starting to wonder at her strange guest status with this soldier. She let the spigot pour over the back of her head and neck to help rinse the soap out.

        Hair, face, neck and hands clean, she looked around the room from her current place beside the washstand. There were two sheets nearby made of rough cotton. Alex looked down at the filthy rags of indeterminate origin she'd been forced to wear after all her clothes had been burned back at the village. She refilled the bowl, then worked the knot loose on the leather strip she wore as a belt. A touch of soap and water and the leather cleaned easily.

        Without a second thought, she stripped off the rags, tossed them away to the corner near the door, and washed her whole body. The cool water felt like a dream as the rough soap scrubbed away a month of grime. There didn't appear to be anything around to use as a towel, but the room was warmed somehow that she couldn't see and her skin dried enough by just a bit of rubbing. Her hair was still dripping, anyway, so it didn't worry her much to be clean and damp after so long being disgustingly filthy.

        The sheets were made to fit the small bed so she ended up using both to create a modest level of coverage. Her shoulders and arms were still bare, but the rest of her was covered down to just below her knees. She used one sheet as a pair of simple tied pants – it was too cold outside to think of wandering around commando – which fit loosely but comfortably enough. She wrapped the other sheet around herself like a bath towel in her own time, overlapping as much as possible and tying it on using her leather belt under her armpits and firmly above her breasts. She folded the top of the sheet back over the belt to help stop the sheet from slipping when she moved her arms.

        The outfit she looked down at wouldn't win any fashion prizes, but it was as clean as she was. Alex used the wall and slowly walked back over to her pile of furs. Working carefully, she knelt down and rolled the top two furs away. As suspected, the ones below were clean. She nuzzled into them and smelled nothing but soap and damp fur as she fell back asleep.