The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 8

        The woman looked randomly familiar, but her eyes fell on the man Alex had been speaking with and stayed there. He seemed oblivious to her adoration, or so used to that being the general reaction he got from women that he was completely nonplussed by it. The man leading the woman returned to the trees, and the one in the clearing spoke quietly to her when she reached him. She tore her steady gaze from his face to look at Alex. The woman blinked in surprise, and then her mouth formed into a small 'o' shape and her breath shifted to small gasps. That's when Alex recognized her.

        "Holy shit," Alex said in English before switching to Latin again. "You are not dead."

        "I was. I mean, I thought I was going to be..." She shook her head. "Hludwolf was meant to marry Hiltraud. When he found out she was... entangled, I was revenge. She'd killed the Old Father already and beaten me terribly, for fun, and he took me instead of her to give insult to her mother..." She paused. "We are married," she added, as if testing how the challenge sounded.

        Helena Donati, one of the slaves who'd reacted so strangely when Alex had told her and the old man her gigno's real name back in the village before she was brought to Bonna, moved forward a few short steps that may have been close to one full stride, then stopped as if she was tied.

        "Why are you here?" Helena asked, suddenly looking worried.

        "To sell the horse." Alex held up the end of the lead she was holding. Helena stared at Alex, finally taking in her clothes, hair and posture instead of just her face. She suddenly seemed worried to be even this close to Alex.

        "You are with the Legion that passes on the road," Helena said, as if in accusation.

        "I am," Alex agreed, and Helena looked like she had a hundred more questions. "The horse is to need rest and is not good for war." Alex turned the conversation back to the little stallion before the questions could start. "We march to Illyria, there is no rest. So I am here to sell the horse."

        The man, Hludwolf was what Helena called him, stepped up behind Helena when she hesitated to speak further and slid his hands around her waist, his touch seeming to cause her all kinds of pleasure. His glare at Alex over Helena's shoulder was an open invitation.

        "I ask again, why would I want the loser of the race?" Hludwolf asked.

        Alex cocked an eyebrow at him, barely holding back a laugh, but keeping it in check for the sake of Helena's obviously extensive affections.

        "This horse is my reason to be to here."

        Alex aimed the words at Helena, who looked relieved, then turned her head to look directly at the man who'd been creeping slowly closer on the far side of the little stallion. The creeping man stopped in his tracks, knife at the ready, completely off guard when Alex simply smiled at him good-naturedly.

        "You do not need to sneak to see the horse," she told him. "Good teeth, six years old, strong legs and straight back. He needs only rest and care."

        These were not the reactions that Hludwolf been hoping for from Alex, that was easy to see. There were snickers from a few points around the clearing, but only silence where the old soldier stood. Alex's mind clicked through the little bits of information she had, and she shifted her gaze to the shadows where the older man had stood when last she'd seen him.

        "Forgive me, sir, I do not know the word for a man above," she called respectfully to the edge of the clearing. "Will he buy the horse, or do I only stay here to pass the ten minutes by too much and make all men fight before the plan?"