IXILLIUS WAS BUNDLING Alex back into his cloak to take his leave, hoping to rekindle the earlier foreplay on the walk back to his rooms, but expecting that, after making a spectacle of her injuries, Alex would be less inclined to copulate. Verus had hugged her gently, to her surprise, thanking her for providing solid circumstances to get his half-brother out of the Legions, dishonorably discharged, and for the excuse he'd wanted for some time that would allow him to have the idiot severely beaten.
Ixillius was grateful that Alex didn't speak the language, saving her the responsibility of caring if the youth whose life she had saved just yesterday was severely punished.
A hard knock on the door broke up the casual farewells, and Quintus answered. An Imperial messenger stood there, hard ridden and covered in road dust.
"First File of Minerva's 1st?" The man asked, gruffly, eyes flicking around the men in the room.
"Verus Celsus Calix," Verus stated, identifying himself as he stepped forward.
The meeting turned sour as soon as the messenger started speaking. Alex didn't know what was said, but all the men around her grew serious quickly, Ixillius and Brasus especially grim. The man handed over a wax sealed document of some importance, and then left as suddenly as he came. Verus immediately called for more messengers, sending the boys out as quickly as they arrived with barked orders.
Verus broke the seal on the document and unrolled it, scanning over the message. He turned his head from it suddenly and handed it to Brasus with a clipped command. Brasus deferred to Ixillius, and on his commander's curt nod took the document and began reading out loud. Part way through, Ixillius had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
Brasus finished reading, the words sour in his mouth. Verus called in the messengers that had arrived while Brasus read, sending them out with the notifications to all his superiors that the Imperial Messenger had not found them quickly, so had come to Verus's door.
"It'll be three days at least to get word to the cohorts that are out. We'll assemble fully where we're supposed to meet with the other seven Legions in a week's time. Don't let your men unpack, my friend," he said to Ixillius. "They're not starting for Rome tomorrow, but they still march in three days' time. I'll send word to Aquilus Naevius, as well, that if he further harasses any cohorts other than his own with his ridiculous lack of patrol scheduling I'll see him whipped before the entire Legion."
Brasus, Ixillius and Alex took their leave, Brasus immediately going to the encampment to break the news to his men. It seemed odd to step out into the mid-afternoon light after so heavy a message. It should be dark already, out of respect. Ixillius pulled his thoughts together and had organized the plan for his century by the time they arrived back at his room. He took his cloak from Alex and slung it around his own shoulders, pausing as she re-tightened the fastenings she'd loosened earlier. He pulled her into a hug, wanting to crush her tight to his chest, but not wanting to hurt her.
"I promise I'll explain when I get back tonight," he said, kissing the top of her head. "At least you get three more days rest in Bonna before we start to march."
He smiled tightly at her then turned and left to follow Brasus out to the encampments, the concern on her face etched warmly into his memory. It was well past his usual time for the evening meal when he spotted Quintus and sent the man to purchase and take food to Alex. Quintus hovered for a moment, and Ixillius paused to acknowledge him.
"Any message for the Lady Traversi, sir?" The Legionnaire asked, casually using a married title rather than common terms for a woman. Ixillius had noted the man's increased level of respect for Alex during the meeting at Verus's rooms earlier, it had been his main reason for asking Quintus to go now, but the question gave him pause. Some of the surrounding men turned to listen, the title catching at their ears as keenly as the rest of the rumors they had been passing around all day.
"Give my respects, and convey that I'm to be further delayed," Ixillius answered, making no attempt to correct the use of a formal title under his name for Alex.
Quintus saluted smartly and took his leave, ignoring completely the sudden burst of hushed conversations exploding up as he strode away. On hearing the rumor later, Brasus had also begun to use the married title for Alex.
"You too?" Ixillius had asked him.
"Quintus says it is so. The man has a flawless memory and no imagination. His word has more weight than any other fighting man in Rome among the Legates. It must be true," Brasus smirked and winked at his friend, noting that the Centurion subtly preened as he rolled the title across his own tongue.
They had enlisted at the same time, both volunteers among a majority of conscripts, and had been friends since the first day of meeting at the recruiter's table. Brasus was reminded of the conversation they'd had weeks after meeting, when it had been Brasus falling in love with the slave who'd now raised both his boys and given him three daughters, and Ixillius providing the caution.
"You've told me to rid myself of her on more than one occasion, but now you name her as my wife?" Ixillius asked, suspicious of further mischief.
Brasus sighed, his thoughts collecting for a few moments before he replied.
"My father is a horse breeder, and a good one. I was raised beside horses, you know this." Ixillius nodded in agreement. "I may have a distrust for your woman, but no animal has ever shied from her, and often I saw the pack horses tied to the cart she rode in on the march into Bonna nuzzle at her hands even in the condition she was in. Men make many errors in their judgment of people, but horses seldom do."
Quintus returned in the expected amount of time, only saying that the Lady Traversi had a matter she wished to discuss once Ixillius returned, but he'd been unable to grasp what the content might be. The busy hours passed quickly, and Ixillius's final conversation with Brasus for the night wound to a close. The next three days would be a hard press to resupply for a fighting march, rather than the expected easy return to Rome, but the men were not strangers to a quick preparation for a long march. His thoughts turned to food and sex once the day's work was complete, and he left the encampment glad of the three extra days in Bonna.
***
Alex slept and had done some light stretching and simple fighting routines as the afternoon wore on. She missed having books to read. The time of the usual evening meal came and went, and still Ixillius didn't return. Concern for him was making her restless, she was already frustrated as all hell, and now something bad had happened seemingly to the entire Legion and she was laid up on the injury list.
She grinned and shook her head as she realized that she was fretting, pacing the room like a penned lion. After another hour crawled past, hunger drove her to select a different fur from the pile she'd slept on to use as a cloak against the evening chill. She'd seen the place she assumed Brasus and Quintus had gotten their food from on both trips over to the bathhouse. A small, nearby building with an open door and men coming out with covered plates and heading off in different directions, others returning empty plates. She didn't know if they'd serve her on credit under Ixillius's name, but was hungry and restless enough to give it a try and see.
When she stepped out of the building, she was confronted with a long line of people and animals filing deeper into Bonna. Soldiers, the lightly wounded and unscathed, marched past, while the others with more serious wounds rode in carts like the one that had carried her. Shackled slaves limped and wailed along at the center of the column. Alex felt her hunger dissipate at the sight, suddenly more grateful for the collar she wore, and the man whose name was stamped on it.
Down the line about half a block from her, a ruckus erupted around a line of horses being led. One of the beasts, noticeably bigger even at this distance, was aggressively asserting a dislike of the current treatment. Men were soon shouting and scrambling towards and away from the angered animal. Alex grinned and joined the small crowd that walked down the line and gathered to see the spectacle.
The horse causing the problems sent another man flying into the dirt. It was a big stallion, dark chestnut colored, standing at about sixteen hands Alex estimated, tearing up his leads and fighting against the too-small bridle that cut hard at his mouth and ears. He stood at least two hands taller than the next largest horse, and the cavalrymen trying to approach the big stud kept finding themselves tossed aside like puppets. The horse was...
Alex began to lose her color, her hunger for supper turning to ash in her mouth. She knew this big stallion, she swore it. He looked exactly like... But he couldn't be. She looked up and down the line of slaves, but didn't make out the limping form of Mark among the shackled crowd, the horse trainer and her casual friend with benefits from back in her time. She stared at the tops of the white-haired scars ending just above the mud on the back legs of the big stud, which matched exactly where Big Man Max had gotten tangled in a roll of barb wire as a foal, eight years ago. Max had been the horse she'd ridden the most during her two years working as a survivalist trainer, helping Mark with training him when the horseman's club foot stopped him from being able to ride the tricks he was teaching the fast-learning stunt horse.
The stallion lunged toward the crowd, breaking the last tether tying him to the cart like it was string. His strong kick shattered the side of the little cart, spraying fragments and chunks of wood out behind him into the slaves, cavalry, and surrounding crowd. He eyed down the two nearest cavalrymen who had been trying to contain him with murderous intent.
"Max!" Alex commanded, drawing the stallion's ears and breaking his attention on the two men. "Hold, Big Man."
The stud stamped and tossed his head, trying to throw off the ill-fitting bridle. Alex came out of the crowd, dropping her fur cloak and holding her hands out to what had essentially been her horse for the past two years.
"Whoa, Big Man. Whoa, Max. Let me help you, Big Man," she rattled off the words as soothingly as possible.
The stallion turned and pushed his head into her waiting hands, sides heaving, as he snorted out his anger and pain to her.
"Careful, careful, hold, Max, hold." The bit and earpiece had both left cuts, the leather bridle was set to its largest and was still too small by at least an inch. If she pulled the bridle off as it was, it would tear at his ears even worse. If she tried to unbuckle it and separate the bit from the leather, it would pull at the bit and possibly tear the sides of his mouth even worse.
"Hush now, Big Man, I'll get you out of this, but you gotta hold steady."
Alex slipped her hand under the bridle, the big horse winced but held still as she adjusted her hand so it covered his eye, stopping him from seeing what she was going to do.
"Steady, Max, hold steady. Good fella. Just a few more seconds and you'll be free of this little device."
As soon as she'd covered his eye, Alex took out Ixillius's knife. As she spoke to the stallion, she slid the blade under the thin leather, hoping the knife was as sharp as it looked. With a quick slice, the leather parted. Max spit the bit instantly, which Alex expected.
"Hold, Big Man, hold steady."
The horse was quaking with the need to fling the bridle loose from his ears. Alex re-sheathed the knife and eased the leather out of the grooves it had cut behind his ears, talking soothingly as she did, so he didn't lift his head suddenly and tear his ears worse before she could get the bridle clear. The earpiece slid free and she stepped back quickly. The stallion braced his front legs wide and shook his head like a dog killing a rat. Alex dropped the wrecked bridle in the mud of the street and grinned at the horse. The cavalrymen who'd been trying to bring Max in had formed a loose ring at the inside edges of the crowd. The big stud lifted his head high and eyed down at all of them, ears pressed flat and teeth bared in fury.
"Max!" Alex chastised, drawing the stallion's attention back down to her. "That shit'll get you killed out here, Big Man. Back down. Back down." She held up a hand as high over her head as she could and he dropped his nose to it. "Good fella. Back down now, Max, back down." His ears flicked forward at her and his head dropped lower as her hand dropped so she was able to start rubbing his face and neck. "Good fella, Big Man, good fella." He calmed to her, but still snorted and stomped angrily if the uniformed cavalrymen tried to approach, his tail snapping side to side. "Easy, Big Man, easy."
After a few moments, Alex picked up the longest piece of rope she could see on the ground and eased it around Big Man Max's neck like a dog leash, tying it loosely. She still couldn't see Mark when she scanned the slaves, but she could see Max's ears twitching consistently to her left, his attention drawn away from her to what could only be his actual owner's voice.
She didn't know how she, Mark and Max had gotten here, or why they were here, or how her gigno had gone forward to her time. A few things Mark had said over the years suddenly sprang up in her memory, though, and she started thinking maybe he knew more than she did. Holding the long end of the rope as a lead, she turned and scanned the ring of cavalrymen that Max had just battered and muddied, seeing that most of them had someone in the crowd talking to them and gesturing toward Alex.
"Hold, buddy," she sighed, ground tying him and walking over to pick up her discarded fur. The cavalryman closest to her backed up a step. Alex wrapped back up, chilled, shivering and hungry, and held out her hand to the stallion. Max walked toward her obediently, as he was trained to do, and she took up his lead again, this time walking along with the line of men, horses and slaves. She needed to know where Max was going to be, and she needed to know where the slaves were going to be, and – knowing the verbal commands that Max was trained to and that there wasn't going to be a movie shoot here and now – she hoped like hell that the two places would not be within shouting range.
***
Verus had been glad of the notification that the 1st and 3rd had returned two days ahead of schedule, saving him the trouble of sending runners to them and forcing them on a hard run march to catch up with the rest of the Legion. He was also grateful that the news of trouble with one of the newly captured horses had been delivered by someone he found quite easy to watch delivering it, especially when he was told that somehow Ixillius's woman was involved, and Ixillius was not.
His own Optio, sent to verify the trouble with the horse, had brought the message that Ixillius's woman had requested him, Verus, by his familiar name to attend on her at the horse pens. The Optio had been sneering as he delivered the message, as if insulted that a collared slave would speak such a request as attendance by the First File, using the officer's name like family. Knowing the horse pens were near, and that Alex had certainly recognized her location as closer to him than to anyone else she knew, Verus donned his cloak over his clothing, having already taken off his armor for the night, and stepped out into the chill evening, his dinner half-eaten, and his stunned Optio trailing behind.
A strange scene met him at the pens. A sizable crowd of people, too many to be simply interested in the new horses, were jeering and laughing at the center pen. The people parted neatly as Verus approached, men who saw him started elbowing others aside to allow him to pass. He caught snippets of conversations, how the woman he was coming to meet had appeared from nowhere on the street, how she'd tamed a wild horse with a word, and more of the usual gossip he'd been overhearing the past two days since the killings in the bathhouse and then his idiot half-brother's ridiculous stunt. It all formed together in his head, and he filled in the blanks with some reality, coming to an assumed conclusion that was surprisingly close to the real event.
Alex stood in the middle of the pen, holding the end of a tattered rope looped around the neck of a truly stunning stallion, her back to the crowd of taunting spectators lining the fence. Neither she nor the horse noticed yet that he was here. Verus had made it his business to understand horses, and horsemen, even before he signed on for his twenty-five. It was an investment that had served him well over the years since.
"Sir," the startled cavalry commander, the Decurio assigned to the 1st and 3rd, nearly tripped over his feet as he turned to salute.
"Decurio," Verus nodded in return, noting the jeers were silencing quickly because he'd actually arrived. "What brings me out here at this late hour?"
"I, uh, that is, sir, the whore slave there, she—"
"Alex," Verus yelled, interrupting and turning away from the stuttering Decurio's ineptitude and toward the woman whose name he'd just called.
She looked over at him at the call of her name, smiling in visible relief. He climbed smoothly through the fence, the Decurio and his Optio hustling to keep up, and met her inside the pen as she led the beautiful stallion to him.
"Verus," she greeted him, nodding in respect.
He noted her posture and motions gave no hint of the injuries he had seen earlier today. It pleased him a surprising amount to be confronted with two such beautiful animals.
"Tell me, dear one," he said to her, letting the giant horse sniff at him and smiling when he was allowed to rub his hands over the soft coat. "What is your secret to having lovely studs turned to your hand so quickly?"
"Verus, Max," she said, by way of introduction, touching the man and the horse on their shoulders in turn, confirming his suspicion that she knew the animal well.
He inspected the big horse quickly, frowning at the recent injuries to the animal's ears and mouth that most likely explained the rumored disturbance with the new horse, but otherwise settling it in his mind that this was essentially a perfect animal. When the Decurio attempted to approach, Max laid back his ears and bared his teeth, stepping forward between Alex and the cavalryman. Verus chuckled and patted the stallion's strong neck, his inspection leaving him beside Alex and opposite the two men in his cohort.
"Dearest Max, I believe I fell in love with you just now," Verus said quietly, chuckling as his Optio and the Decurio started backing quickly away from the large, and suddenly angry, horse.
He turned to Alex, who was doing nothing to stop the stallion from intimidating the other two men out of the pen. On seeing Verus turn to her, she pointed at her eyes, and then at Max, and released her hold on his lead, showing the horse her empty hands. Max snorted and charged the two men, thundering a few short strides to chase them out of the fence. With perfect timing, the stud skidded to a stop, tossed his head high and stamped around the perimeter of the pen, to the crowd's delight kicking out at anyone he deemed too close with either foreleg or hind, whichever he chose at the time.
Verus could feel his hands twitching with the desire to be riding such a mount. Alex called a command, and the horse fell still, tail thrashing. Another called command and the stallion rose to his hind legs, slicing at the air with his front hooves. The next called command had the stallion stepping high, prancing around the fence line to the opposite side of the corral as though on parade. The next command was accompanied by a hand clap, and Max turned and battle charged across the pen, missing Alex by inches. Verus caught his breath. Alex had been between himself and the charging stallion and the First File had still felt the wind of the big stud's passing. In one great leap, the horse cleared the fence and scattered the men who had just been jeering minutes before. Alex watched the stallion stretch his stride to a full gallop, then whistled sharply. The big horse spun fully around in the span of a heartbeat and was then charging back to the pen. He cleared the fence with a large amount of room to spare and settled into an easy all-day riding pace around the fence line.
Alex called to the big horse again and he trotted over to her, snorting and shaking out his mane, demanding rubs on his face and neck from Verus when she gestured that the horse to go to the man. Verus gladly obliged, quickly finding the spots that left the brute nuzzling at his stomach. Gods, he wanted this horse.
Alex pried Max's head out of Verus's hands and sent the stallion away to eat from the hay at the side of the pen opposite the largest group of men. She knelt, pulling Verus down beside her, and started drawing in the dirt. Three couples emerged, each of a man and woman, the first tied together at the hand, the second standing close but not touching, then the third a collared woman and cloaked figure holding a sword with their nearest arms forming a V shape.
"Alex and Jeremy," she said, pointing at the first couple. "Alex and Mark," she pointed at the second couple, then "Alex and Ixillius," she finished.
"Yes, Ixillius mentioned that," Verus grinned at her.
Alex erased the first couple and pointed at the man in the second.
"Mark owns Max," she said, nodding at the stallion, now quietly eating.
She drew a horse in various stages of training, the final being of a man figure yelling at a horse figure. Verus felt a cold discomfort crawling up his spine as he quickly aligned the sketches in the dirt with what he'd just seen Alex get Max to demonstrate.
"Where is Mark, dear one?" Verus asked quietly, pointing to the figure of the man.
Alex wiped the dirt smooth and drew a shackled man in startling detail with just a few lines, his left foot turned in, in a line of slaves that was flanked by Legionnaires. Verus didn't show the recognition he felt, there were many more than one clubfooted man in the world.
"Mark, Bonna. Mark owns Max," she said.
She locked eyes with Verus, as if willing him to understand something more. She suddenly pulled his cloak open, frowning at his tunic. She drew a quick shape and tapped on Verus's chest. Verus stood and called his Optio back into the pen. The man approached slowly, nervous of being back inside the same fence as the horse.
"Get over here, man," Verus called impatiently.
"Sir?" the Optio asked, attempting to appear calm.
"Take off your chest piece."
"Um," the man stammered.
"Now," Verus dropped his voice to a threatening pitch and the Optio immediately complied.
Verus passed the chest piece to Alex, noticing that the big stallion laid his ears flat as soon as she touched the bronze-plated leather. She walked over to the fence furthest from the crowd and hung the piece of armor on one of the posts, then walked back to stand beside Verus. She called out a short command to Max, whose attention was already fixated on the chest piece. The stallion tore apart that entire section of fence, destroying the chest piece and trampling the pieces of wood and bronze into the mud at his hooves. She voiced a second command, and Max tossed his head, snorting loudly – condescendingly, Verus thought – and then sedately walked back over to the hay and started eating.
Alex was watching the First File calmly when Verus turned back to her, his stomach churning at what he'd just witnessed. The crowd outside the fence was eerie in stunned silence.
"Mark owns Max," she stated quietly, pointing at the ruined fence, then at the image of the clubfooted man she'd drawn at their feet. "Mark, Bonna. Max, Bonna."
He didn't bother to look at it, but instead held her gaze.
"And Alex owns Max?" he asked. "Alex owns Mark?" he added hopefully.
She shrugged and shook her head no.
"Alex owns Max," she confirmed. "Mark..." Her voice trailed off and she shrugged again, appearing not uncomfortable, but just that she seemed to not think much of the man.
"I have men like that in my past as well, dear one," he stated.
Then, with a small grin, she leaned close and whispered so low that only he could hear, pointing back to the horse.
"Max owns Alex." She tapped at her chest, over her heart.
He smiled across at her, understanding perfectly. He caught her hand and held it to his own chest.
"Verus owns Max," he whispered back with finality, gaining a smile of grateful appreciation from the lovely woman before him, her relief confirmation that his ownership of the brute had been her intent.
He walked Alex back to his quarters, still holding her hand, leaving commands to have the horse immediately transferred to his ownership and moved to the furthest pens outside Bonna, by men without armor, well out of audible range from the slave dens for even the keenest of horse hearing. He settled his friend's woman on a stool and, taking the muddy fur she was wrapped in, bade one of his servants to throw it away and fetch a good winter cloak and felted leg wraps for her.
It only took a few minutes for Verus to write the letter to Ixillius, happy at being able to use their cryptic shorthand again. It was so much simpler than slowing his mind to write out every part and syllable as he had to do with every correspondence now. He summarized what had happened with Alex tonight, his part in it, a request to meet up to visit the slave pens tomorrow morning just prior to the midday meal and ensure that the fellow Alex had described remained in Bonna well after Minerva's 1st Legion had marched and taken Max with them. As a postscript, he added his personal thoughts about Alex, what Ixillius should do with the woman, and retracted his earlier statement of not wishing to have his own collar on her.
It was difficult for Verus to admit, not being inclined to enjoy the intimate company of women, but if his older brothers died barren and he was ever forced to marry and produce an heir, he would look to Ixillius to allow Alex as his wife for the task. The thought produced a pleasant, and surprising, warmth in his belly.
The servant returned with the cloak and wraps as Verus was sealing the letter. Verus bade Alex rise, dismissed the servant and wrapped her legs and shoulders in the warm wool garments himself, ensuring the hood on the cloak was pulled up to help hold in the heat. She grinned at his ministrations, her eyebrows raised as he tucked the small letter-purse into an inside pocket of the cloak.
"Look at this, you have me acting the mother," he kissed her chastely on the cheek and pulled the cloak tightly closed, then fixed it at the neck so her collar showed Ixillius's name clearly. "Yes, dear one, now you look the part."
***
Alex dismissed Verus's Optio with a nod once they reached Ixillius's building. The poor man had a general air of confusion that she assumed was common among those working for, or close to, Verus. He was a quick mind and commanded the respect of multitudes with easy charm and the evidenced ability to outwit the vast majority of the population, the population into which his current Optio unfortunately fell. Alex didn't ponder long on the thought of what his war tactics would look like, expecting them to be just as deftly executed as everything else he did.
She had to stand on the bed to hang her new cloak over the window slit, so loosened and pulled off her rabbit skin shoes, sighing with relief as the plainly tiled, heated floor started pushing warmth into her cold toes. She'd just dropped the letter-purse on the table and started to settle back into the room, remembering that she'd still hadn't eaten, when there was a polite knock at the door.
"Quintus Abelardus, Domina Traversi," the familiar voice called quietly.
Alex opened the door a crack, ensuring it was who the voice said, before opening the door fully. Quintus carried in the dinner plate and set it on the table, bowing respectfully and saying something else that featured Ixillius's name. She tried to ask when Ixillius would be back, but to no avail as she couldn't get the Legionnaire to understand. Quintus took his leave and Alex closed the door after him. Her belly rumbling hungrily, she took her usual seat on the small stool and dug into the single serving of wheat cereal with bacon, and a small loaf of bread with cheese.