The Mark of Rome

xxvi / strength of a warrior

We spent many days in this small city center. The townspeople appraised us like spoiled meat, upturning their nose at our Roman garb.

Marius was adamant that Adrian and I not leave the premises without accompaniment, which was more often than not Alex.

Alex kept close. The weapons at his side were very strategically large and visible, and he was given to instructing another centurion to follow behind.

"Do you think they'd hurt us?" I pondered only loud enough for the two of us to hear.

"I think they'd put a knife in Marius' back, given the chance. They wouldn't hurt the rest of us. It isn't worth the effort. For Marius, Rome would move their men out. For you or I, Marcus wouldn't bat an eye and it would only give Marius the motive to level this place." He shrugged frankly. It was the truth, and both he and I knew that we were more or less safe.

Marius spent most of his time indoors strategizing or in too large of a group to isolate and attack. I felt safe knowing he wasn't exposed at any given point.

Adrian babbled in my arms, clutching a piece of fruit in his sticky fingers. We never walked too far. It was Marius' request that we stay within a "manageable" distance, meaning that we stay within the distance that he managed.

"Do you ever miss home?" I looked at the buildings and the people. They were both foreign to me. The language was different and the smell of floral spices drifted across the rooftops.

"I think I'd miss it more if there was something to miss," he chuckled wryly. "There's nothing left for me aside from my job. No family, no home apart from the one my post affords me..."

His golden hair caught the light as we strolled the brightly lit spaces.

I missed my brother and sister. In part, I missed my father. To be frank, I missed the marketplace and the smell of food that was not made for men who devoured any meal. I missed turning corners and remembering where I had come from.

"Why? Are you homesick, lady?" Alex laughed with some false astonishment.

"It crosses my mind sometimes," I admitted. "And then I remember the different set of struggles that come with that city...Still, I'd like for my children to see Rome. For this one to be born in someplace with a name for a change."

"Your children will have stories to tell of where they were born and raised. Just be thankful they don't yet know of the dismal little ins-and-outs of Rome."

Of that small fact, I was grateful and yet, I couldn't quite shake the thought of being back at home. Of some comfort and familiarity, especially in a place such as this.

|_|_|_

I laid with Marius in our secluded space. The candlelight that flickered was faint and dimly illuminated the quaint room, furnished with the most opulent decor that a military space kept. The cot was covered in sheets of muted grey and the walls were bare, save for a lone tapestry.

I kept near to my husband for warmth, talking in hushed tones to keep from waking the baby in the cradle beside.

Marius' eyes were weary with exhaustion, but I had his time and attention for the moment. I ran my fingers along his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath my finger tips.