IXILLIUS STRODE OUT to the corrals, lost in thought. Alex's attentions this morning left him fully distracted. He told himself again that she couldn't know such familiarity as seeing to armor was a matter of the highest trust, that only certain wives and brothers in arms performed fastenings and unfastenings. She hadn't understood when he'd told her before he left, her smile to him slipping due to the look on his face that he couldn't stop from being there. He flexed again as he reached the corrals. She'd done a good job.
Brasus said nothing on noting that Ixillius's armor was fully fastened, something he'd expected to have to do, and only raised his eyebrows and turned back to securing the saddle of his horse when Ixillius also said nothing. They rode out together to the assembly area of the morning patrols. The men Brasus had called for hurried up to their commanders and quickly formed into neat lines moments before the patrol troop inspection started.
The Centurion that Ixillius and his men would be under while marching to Rome, Aquilus Naevius of Minerva's 1st Legion's 2nd Cohort and 3rd Century, was also in charge of the Bonna patrol schedule and inspections. The bitter Patrician scowled deeply at the smart ranks of Ixillius's men, mostly freemen with a few equestrians even lower-ranking than Ixillius himself. Ixillius made a mental note that he would have to speak to Brasus later about purposefully rankling their soon-to-be, socially-minded commander.
Ixillius's troop saluted smartly on the clipped command from Brasus, and Aquilus Naevius nearly snarled as he roughly turned and kicked his mount to the next troop. Some of the hurriedly assembling men there became the new target of his distemper.
Ixillius breathed a sigh of relief as inspections ended and they were sent out of the city proper on morning patrols. In just a few minutes of leaving sight of the surrounding encampments, Brasus began to whistle cheerfully, riding close to his Centurion.
"Almost all my men are patricians and equestrians, yet you assemble nearly all my freemen and fill in the voids of the patrol troop with the lowest equestrian sons we have," Ixillius stated flatly as the song Brasus whistled drew to a close.
"Oh, did I?" Brasus replied, turning to Ixillius with surprised innocence.
"Yes, you did. And for a patrol inspection done by the most socially class-minded patrician in all the Empire," Ixillius frowned as he spoke, but it did little to dim Brasus's already wide smirk.
"I simply chose," he started, then stood in his stirrups and half-turned back to the men marching behind, speaking in half a shout so each could clearly hear him. "I simply chose the men I knew would assemble the smartest and the fastest, Centurion, to ensure this morning's short notice would not be a hindrance on our duty to Rome!"
The grinning men replied in agreement with one voice, accompanied by the banging of each man's fist on his shield.
"You, Optio," Ixillius replied in the same booming tones, "are an ass whose words might as well be shit for all their worth, and you will be the single cause of our Century digging latrines until our twenty-five are up!"
The men cheered again, the pounding of fist and shield much louder and followed by ringing laughter. The men of the 6th and 4th were long used to their commanders' squabbling, and often enjoyed taking sides.
Brasus joined the laughing and slapped his commander and friend on the back.
"Don't do that again, Brasus," Ixillius laughed.
"Yes, sir," Brasus answered, pulling a smart salute and still chuckling. Once he was composed enough, Brasus started whistling another tune.
"Look smart, Legionnaires," Ixillius called back to his men at the close of Brasus's whistled tune. "We're at our patrol."
The conversations between the men stopped, and their lines straightened. Even Brasus grew serious. All eyes searched the forest around the track they walked, weapons and shields close to hand if not already held.
Ixillius captured a bit of the early morning's good mood again, his pride in his men buoying his spirits. His 6th and 4th were well liked and well respected throughout the Legions in Germania Inferior, and this morning's display of immediate readiness could have been completed by any of his men. Their stolid alertness didn't leave any of them until they were back within the encampment surrounding Bonna hours later.
That was where the messenger intercepted Ixillius on his return.
***
Alex hadn't known what to do once breakfast was done and she'd washed up. It wasn't like the small room needed tidying, and she felt it on a deeper level that wandering the city on her own was a singly terrible idea. She was bored of sleeping, even though she was still exhausted, but there was really nothing else to do.
She tried deciphering some of the words on the scroll that had sent Brasus and Ixillius hurrying off, but outside of a few numbers she recognized from the Roman numerals still in common use in her time, it wasn't anything she could make heads or tails of. She held the sore rib tightly and yawned, pleased that the stabs of pain weren't all that bad today, and looking around the room again with an idea forming.
The small open space between the table and the door would be easy to make bigger if she pushed the stools against the washstand. Rolling her furs out of the way would give her more room. It would be a small L-shape, but that was all right as she wasn't that big of a person.
It was a matter of a few moments to clear the space she wanted, leaving her feeling drained and recharged at the same time. Deciding to work cautiously, she started with the simplest stretches, testing what she could and couldn't do based on what did and didn't hurt. As her body warmed, she stepped through the familiar forms from her years of martial arts training, stopping and stretching lightly and frequently over cups of water.
She lost track of time, easing slowly through the motions, modifying as needed to help work around her broken rib and the small space, and careful to avoid putting any strength behind the actions so she didn't have any risk of hurting herself further. Her body was recovering well, and a light sheen of sweat covered her skin. Her belly grumbled and she decided it was a good time to stop. Ixillius had been gone for most of the morning, and the angle of the sun shining through the window slit proved it was getting close to his regular time of returning for a midday meal.
Alex felt good. Another couple weeks of resting like this, with increased exercise as her body allowed, and she'd be back to normal. She flexed her neck and shoulders, smiling as her spine cracked and released a whole nest of tension. She left the stools by the washstand, not bothering to put them back in their original places, and poured another cup of water, leaning her hip on the washstand and letting it hold her weight for a minute as she didn't want to sit yet.
She hadn't finished drinking that cup when she heard footfalls in the hall. The two familiar strides were accompanied by the two familiar voices of Ixillius, raised in agitation over something, and Brasus, as calming as ever. Ixillius was the first into the room and stopped short, immediately noticing the rolled furs and moved stools.
Brasus entered, still talking to his commander in calming tones as he set down two plates on the table. His quick glance around the room confirmed that although the furs and stools were moved, Alex was still there. She noted his quick shrug which could only mean anything after that wasn't his problem.
Ixillius replied to Brasus as his second closed the door, his voice and bearing ringing with being severely pissed off, but his eyes studying every fine detail about Alex. His regular caution with her suddenly gone due to his existing agitation, he stepped close and pushed her chin up, holding her arm firmly with his other hand. He posed a question to her, blue eyes flashing darkly as he tilted her head from one side to the other to better see the sweat on her face.
Alex felt that she should be frightened at this moment, or at least mildly alarmed, at being manhandled like this, but she wasn't. Nothing in his aggravation seemed aimed at her, and his grip was solid, but not in any way hurtful. His question to her had the tone and body language about it of having found a child suspected of doing something, but with no tangible proof to support the suspicion so nothing could yet be said.
"I could tell you," she said, a small grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. "But that would completely ruin the surprise once I'm actually feeling better."
***
Ixillius felt his temper rising hotter. Alex regarded him calmly as he stared at the small drops of sweat beading her forehead. Her arm was hot under his hand, and her breath was that of someone calming after an exertion. Both stools were now on the same side of the table as the washstand, and her fur bedding was rolled neatly at the base of his trunk beside his cot, leaving a large open space in the room.
"What have you been up to, girl?" he asked quietly, his anger threatening to boil over at finding his room like this after the rest of this morning's events.
As usual, she didn't understand a word he said, but he could see that his meaning had gotten through. Her reply was short, and accompanied by a flippant grin and a mischievous glint in her brown eyes.
"Ixillius," Brasus cautioned softly, reading his friend from experience.
"There's no fear in her, Brasus," Ixillius replied curtly.
"I see that from here, as well," his friend agreed.
"I come here three nights ago at ease and well in my cups, and she watches me like I'd murder innocent children in their sleep. Now I come here livid and handle her roughly and she smiles at me."
His words were clipped with the anger he felt, but he was slowly becoming enthralled with her lack of response.
The only reply was the click of the door latching as Brasus let himself out. The click boomed in the silent room, shaking Ixillius from his fascination. He released his hold on Alex as suddenly as he'd applied it and turned to the table, jerking the stools up and slamming them into their usual places and glaring, as he sat, at the open space on the floor where Alex's bedding should be.
She moved around behind him and sat in her usual place on the stool closest to where her furs should be. He noticed her limp was much less pronounced, and grew even more frustrated that he couldn't question her about what she'd been doing this morning. He dug into his meal and tried to figure out how to explain anything in this ridiculous day so that she could possibly understand.
***
Alex ate in silence. She didn't spend a lot of time talking seeing how nobody understood her, and she'd also never really been that chatty. About half way through the meal, Ixillius started talking. Brasus's name came up often in the first few minutes, and another name that sounded like 'tequila', but wasn't, came up often throughout the rest of the meal. How he talked about Tequila Guy, she decided to call him, it sounded as though this dude was the root of most of the anger Ixillius was venting.
She listened to him talking and watched him gesturing as attentively as if she knew what he was saying. By the time the meal was done, he had finished his main tirade and had moved on to punctuated outbursts, every now and then banging a fist on the table and making the plates and cups bounce.
Alex watched his frustration remain after most of the anger had faded, trying to think of something she could do to help for the moment. She was keenly aware of the mounting debt she owed this man, first for rescuing her, second for nursing her, and now for maintaining her, and was just as aware that she had very little to offer in return. His interest in a physical payment from her seemed so close to nil that she assumed he had a woman, or more than one. Besides which, she wouldn't be able to do that until her rib healed. Which left nothing else she could offer from the perspective of her current status.
He sank into a sullen silence, drawing doodles on his plate with a scrap of leftover cheese. She was exhausted from the morning's activities, doubly tired from having eaten, but stood and limped back to her rolled furs. He scowled at her and kicked her stool across the floor to his bed as she knelt and pulled the wineskin from the middle of the roll. He was glaring at the fallen stool when she stood and turned back to the table, apparently having decided he didn't want to look at someone he could only talk at, rather than with.
Alex unstoppered the wine skin she'd hidden the morning after her outburst, the one he'd tried to give her at dinner that night. She filled both cups on the table, trying not to grin at his comically surprised expression. He stood as she struggled to replace the plug, her strength failing already, much to her chagrin, and took the wineskin from her faltering fingers to replace the plug. All of his features had gentled and his face was softened from its earlier anger. She smiled at him, understanding completely the frustration of a hard luck day, and held up his cup to him now that it was full of wine.
To her surprise, he tossed the wineskin in the wash bowl without taking his eyes off her. He took the offered cup, but set it back on the table without taking a drink. Alex questioned him with a look as he cupped his hands gently around her face and closed the distance between them to inches. For a second, she thought he would kiss her, but instead he simply spoke softly and earnestly for a moment.
Alex swayed when he stepped back and his arms appeared to steady her. Sleep was pulling at her hard now that her stomach was full. She turned to where her furs had been, then remembered she still had to lay them back out. Dammit.
Ixillius chuckled and said something else, then she was being half pushed and half carried backwards. He lowered her easily onto the cot, silencing her protests with simple physical handling until she lay down and was tucked under his own covers.
***
Ixillius couldn't believe it. He'd just been shouting at her for nearly half the hour and now she was pouring him wine, completely unabashed, after he'd kicked her stool instead of her out of the sheer frustration of her incomprehension. His anger melted into shame. It wasn't like she could suddenly learn to speak with him in his language any more than he could with her in hers.
He stood and took the skein she was struggling with, searching her face for any recognition of the content of his earlier tirade. Finding nothing, she shocked him again by handing him one of the cups she had just filled, an understanding smile at her lips. He stoppered the skein and tossed it aside, then took the offered cup to set it back on the table.
He wrapped her face with his hands, wanting badly to ignore her obvious wounds and hurts and find out if she would gut him as easily as the villager should he try to bed her. Yet he found himself completely incapable, knowing he would hurt her further.
"I think I've just fallen in love with you," he told her. "I really think I have. And I know you're no slave, but I have to claim you as one or I risk losing you to the dens, where we're preparing the slaves to take back to Rome. I pray you'll be able to understand what I'm going to do."
Her eyes blinked uncomprehendingly and he slowly released her, enjoying the feeling of her skin under his hands too much to hold on for longer. He was ready to steady her when she swayed. Sleep still took her quickly after every meal and he was surprised she had lasted this long. That she had stayed awake for him. She was heavier in his arms than when they'd arrived in Bonna a few days ago, but still light in weight and gaunt in feature.
She turned in his arms to where her bed of furs should have been, her shoulders sagging with the sight that they were still rolled neatly away. He chuckled at the irony.
"Looks like you will be sleeping in my bed sooner than I thought," he said, leading her to his small cot and laying her down. She fussed against him, weakly protesting, but he just pressed her down, holding her in place easily with one hand as he pulled the blanket around her with the other.
He sat on the floor and leaned his shoulder on the side of the cot, watching her once she fell asleep. Brasus would be returning soon with the collar, and Ixillius would have to try and get it around that slender neck once she awoke, his name burned into the leather.
Watching her pulse at her throat, he prayed to any of the gods that might still listen to him that she wouldn't kill him for doing it.