IXILLIUS FINISHED SETTING his tent and went on his usual tour through his century for the night. He'd been blissfully free of the nightly visit from Naevius so far, and was enjoying the lack of insults and twisted, mental pummeling intended to make him forsake his bond over the 'daughter of Avilius', and simply strengthening his will to keep her. All afternoon there had been crazy rumors about Alex defecting, or abandoning the Legion, or bringing the locals into a treaty, or in one case spiriting away a stallion and turning him into a man, which she brought back to serve the tastes and humors of the First File. At some point, even a few stories he'd heard when he'd first enlisted came up with a new spin that said the legendary Horseman – supposedly the sword brother of Avilius, but was a man with no name – had resurrected a dead horse and was riding beside Minerva's 1st to keep watch over Alex on behalf of a blood-sworn oath to Avilius. As the men finished setting up the encampment, tight conversations flared the rumors even hotter.
Brasus joined him about half way through his rounds, returning from the errand Ixillius had sent him on, silently falling in step and participating in the nightly inspection as if he'd been there from the start. Ixillius saw that Quintus Abelardus was still missing, and made a note to question Brasus once they could speak privately as the Optio seemed fully aware of the absent Legionnaire.
"Our commanders still drag their feet on the promotion for Marcus Lucilius, their recommendation of a younger man with higher birth stalls their decision making," Brasus began his report for his actual errand. "I was able to speak casually to a Tribune, and solidify his fear of impending death waiting in the trees these past days, leaving him with the sense that a man with ten years of service may prove an asset to the command structure should the First File meet a horrible end." Brasus paused and spoke to a few of the men regarding their arrangement, leaving them to the correction as he caught up to his commander again.
"Did you update the First File?" Ixillius asked.
"I did, and with the same report I just gave to you. Celsus Calix was most emphatic about ushering his new Optio of choice out of this century and placing him quickly in the 1st and 1st," Brasus paused for a moment in his words, a grin sliding onto his face. "I was left with a strong impression that the First File will personally address the matter."
Ixillius chuckled at the expense of the senior officers who would be bearing the brunt of the First File's attention to the matter.
"I imagine that negotiation will be much like turning Max from a mare in heat."
"A laugh and a joke?" Brasus stopped in the middle of the path, mocking amazement. "Who are you, and where is my Centurion!" he demanded, drawing smirks and further cat-calls from the surrounding Legionnaires who had been living under their Centurion's poor humor these past weeks.
Ixillius was about to reply when he noticed Naevius weaving through the tents in his direction, on foot this evening. The fool must've finally lamed that stallion, Ixillius thought. Brasus saw the sudden change in his friend and looked back over his shoulder at the walking Centurion, his features going blank the moment he saw Naevius.
"Finish the rounds," Ixillius ordered his Optio. "I'll square off with him out here in the open air, tonight. At least the weather is pleasant."
"I'll see what I can find us for dinner." He pressed a hand to Ixillius's shoulder as he passed and continued on the rounds, hearing the two Centurions greet each other behind him and begin the nightly exchange of hate.
***
It was an hour before Ixillius was able to get back to his tent. Brasus arrived a few minutes after, already without armor and washed up, obviously watching for Ixillius to return because he arrived with two plates that were still hot. Brasus helped his friend disarm, and spoke an overly detailed report about the final few tents in the evening rounds while Ixillius got himself cleaned up. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the single sleeping pallet in Ixillius's tent while they ate, chatting about nothing.
"So, what did Alex do to Naevius?" Ixillius asked once his plate was empty and he held a full wine skein.
"What makes you ask?" Brasus countered, mockingly innocent.
"The man was more uncivil than usual, which says a lot." They both drank to that. "You had just come from speaking to Verus, and when you saw Naevius, your face went blank."
"You're suspicious that I choose to hide my intense dislike of the man?"
"No, I'm suspicious that Quintus Abelardus was missing this evening – which I'm expecting you to explain – and you looked like you were suddenly playing cards for both your sons' tuitions and all three of your daughters' dowries when Naevius arrived tonight. Alex stirring up trouble is the only possible common link after the rumors this afternoon, so what did she do to him this time?" Ixillius drank deeply as he waited for Brasus to reply. The Optio finally grinned after taking another drink.
"It was less what she did to him, as what she did for him," Brasus smirked.
The Optio dropped his voice low and talked partly into his skein to make his words harder to listen to outside the tent as he retold the events as Verus had described them. By the end of the tale, Ixillius was lounging on his pallet like a boy, laughing and listening to the story. His earlier good humor was fully restored and Brasus spoke freely of the widely known parts of the events as the wine loosened his tongue. Both of them spent minutes laughing at the extent the rumors had reached, as well. Just as Brasus had exclaimed disbelief about Max being hitched to a cart crossing the mud, Ixillius forced Brasus to swear who Alex had unknowingly sold the horse to, collapsing to his back and laughing madly once Brasus did.
"Naevius, of course, sent messengers immediately to the Legate and Prefect with the formal complaint as soon as he found out," Brasus continued once Ixillius was listening again. "Once fortifications were started, Alex, Verus and Naevius went into a trial before the Legate. The Prefect called Quintus Abelardus forward to sit in to spot for lies."
"Trial?" Ixillius asked.
"She sold a fighting stallion of Rome to the enemy, who she appeared familiar with." Brasus slanted a grin at his commander. "Naevius complained of treason."
"Oh," Ixillius replied, growing serious and cursing under his breath.
"The 'man above', as your Lady says, must have been watching the encampment fairly close, though." Brasus held the skein back to his mouth. "A young fellow with a bandaged neck arrived under truce half way though the trial, bearing the sale receipt that named the horse and proved Naevius had signed as the seller!"
"Did Naevius go on trial?" Ixillius asked, speaking into his own skein.
"No." Brasus took an extended drink as Ixillius waited impatiently for him to continue speaking. "The Prefect read the receipt and reminded the Legate which horse had been sold." Brasus stopped to take another drink and grinned that Ixillius plucked the skein out of his hand. "That dumb little gray that keeps dumping his man and running for the camp at every battle, you remember?"
"I do," Ixillius said, handing back the skein, his grin returning part way that Naevius had been riding that infamously horrible little horse. "So what happened?" Ixillius pressed when the Optio didn't immediately continue.
"Well," Brasus started, relishing in holding the punch line. "Verus swears, and Quintus Abelardus confirms," he held the skein back to his lips, "that the Legate clasped hands with, and thanked, the Lady Avilia for ridding the Legion of a useless horse. The Prefect nearly fell from laughing, and the whole thing was dismissed. The fellow under truce with the sore neck left with a full skein of the First File's family wine for his trouble!"
Ixillius dissolved into laughter again. When he finally sat up to have a drink, his eyes were watering and his stomach hurt.
"I would have liked to have seen that," he told his friend. "That well explains the tirade Naevius dumped on me tonight, as well," he continued, taking another drink and still chuckling at the story between swallows.
"Why do you continue to give respect to that prick?" Brasus asked, his grin fading. "Two weeks of torment, and he seems to just be getting started."
Ixillius shrugged, weighing his words before speaking. "I confirmed with Quintus and that prick actually is the closest family tie she has out here, even such a thin thread through her grandfather's cousin's marriage," he admitted, staring at the skein in his hand. Then he turned his face to his friend. "If I don't pay respect to him, what does that say for how I feel about her?" Ixillius grinned at his friend's guarded expression, often worn when the topic of Naevius came up. "Besides," he continued, "I need not say the things out loud when we both think them."
Brasus finally grinned and touched the skeins together as if clinking fine glasses.
"Now that I can drink to."