HELIODORO FINISHED LEADING the training and then watched as broken limbs straightened under the Lady Healer's hands, the gentle firmness she applied to men who would have killed her without a thought an hour ago. Celsus Calix was sitting up and had been staring at him when he'd finally worked up the nerve to look. The green gaze empty of tells, but full of accusations. Heliodoro had seen men in the same state that Celsus Calix had been in when the Lady Avilia charged the Parade Ground, but he'd never seen them still alive after. With the aftermath of the battle still fresh, and seeing the Lady Healer at her trade (and not requesting payment), Heliodoro wondered if either woman could be killed by only men.
The Lady Avilia's slave looked at Verus, and then turned to stare in the direction that he was glaring, locking eyes with Heliodoro. His blood chilled under the afternoon sun as he realized the rumors were true: this slave had bested the Lady Avilia, who had just destroyed six Legionnaires with only a palus. This slave was also now the trusted guardian of the Lady Healer and Celsus Calix in the Lady Avilia's absence; one woman replacing both warrior and warhorse.
The Prefect lay unconscious, unchecked by the Lady Healer, his breathing labored through his ruined nose and damaged mouth, and the swelling where he'd been kicked distorting the side of his face. Heliodoro debated sending for a healer for his uncle, then decided against doing so as he'd have to pay, and he didn't want Celsus Calix to see him aiding an obvious enemy to the ex-First File.
Rarely had Heliodoro seen battles of five on one where the one was the only one standing at the end, and he'd never seen a single sentence spoken to end a rage. The messenger had borne the Emperor's crest, and the Lady Avilia simply stopped her attack at one quietly spoken command. She'd glanced at the crested armor, he'd spoken, and she'd dropped the palus.
The Lady Healer finished binding the final broken arm of the last Tribune on the field and called men forward to take the injured officer back to his tent, still not requesting payment. She ignored the Prefect and went to sit with Celsus Calix, her fingers pressing and probing at his torso as she asked quiet questions that he answered either to the positive or the negative. Heliodoro moved away with the crowd now that the interesting parts were over. He avoided conversation during the midday meal and the walk into the city, his thoughts racing, and then threw himself into the afternoon's work. He wanted to stop thinking about what he'd seen, and comparing that to what he'd believed until this morning.
***
Ixillius ordered more wine, planning to remain drunk and oblivious until the following afternoon at the very soonest. He'd originally planned to spend this evening with Verus, discussing lessons to teach Alex in tactics and strategies now that Ennius had made known he wanted her to continue training civilians, and ... and then she'd been called to Verona. To become engaged. With the Emperor's blessing.
Ixillius didn't regret throwing the cursed ransom buying his wife into the canal. He prayed the coins would wash all the way to the sea for the fish to play with the useless gold.
He waved away the lodgeman's third offer of a meal. Ixillius's thoughts had started to float not long ago, and he didn't want food interrupting his drinking. He was well beyond basic reasoning when he noticed someone was sitting closer to him than the empty spaces further down the table. With an effort, he focused on the man that was ordering wine.
"A good man shouldn't drink alone." Aetius Vitus rested his elbows on the table and waited for his own wine.
Ixillius stared at the Imperial Messenger. The man had helped at the winter spring, and Ixillius liked and respected him very much, but he wasn't interested in having his drinking interrupted right now. He was still too keenly aware of the thoughts and feelings ripping him apart from the inside, in spite of the wine he was attempting to drown them with. Aetius seemed content to sit in silence and watch the rest of the people in the crowded lodge avoid the table they were sitting at. The lodgeman offered Aetius a meal, but the veteran waved the plate away and just ordered the wine to continue.
"To fools," Aetius toasted and took a long drink from his skein as Ixillius emptied the skein he was holding. Two full ones were set on the table by girl who nervously held her breath and then raced away from the table. Aetius barely registered her behavior, turning to the task of drinking at a pace that took years of practice to attain.
"They do that to you too?" Ixillius asked. "Women?"
"That?" Aetius snorted a laugh and nodded. "That started soon after I joined the Legion," Aetius recalled and Ixillius nodded in agreement of his own experience. "I never understood why. Then, while I was in Germania Inferior, I met a woman who didn't seem to think I needed to be feared at all. She laughed at me the first time I met her." He smiled at the memory.
"What happened with her?"
"I married her," Aetius replied. "As quickly as I could." Ixillius drank deeply from the new skein in his hand, the reminder sharp in his chest. "We were happy for a time, and even had a daughter," the old Legionnaire reminisced. "Then she died, so ..." he let his voice trail off, shrugged and drank, the old history nothing that he could change. Ixillius latched onto the conversation. The topic was something that was not his current problem so was immediately better than what was in his thoughts.
"What happened to the child?" he asked.
"We were forced apart. She grew up," Aetius shrugged again, "I didn't see her for a long time."
Ixillius let the silence stretch, not knowing what to say. To lose a wife and a daughter ... he drank deeply as the name Alex told him floated up through the wine. He needed to drown the name, too.
"She's married now." Aetius smiled as if he'd not only made his terms with the fact, but was happy for her. "She made a good match in the man, but settled for less than her due." He turned on his stool and leaned his back against the table.
"If the man is good, leave her with him." Ixillius heard his voice cracking, his emotions leaking through. "If she's happy ..." he took a shuddering breath.
"I've no intention of having her break her marriage." Aetius afforded Ixillius a small grin as the Centurion wiped his eyes, "I've a good opinion of him also, through his century's recommendations and from meeting him myself."
"He's in the Legions?"
"He is," Aetius nodded. "He's in Minerva's 1st."
Ixillius thought hard, the wine slowing his usually quick wits. Aetius had been in good spirits when they'd parted the night before leaving the winter spring.
"You found your daughter when you came to the 1st," Ixillius smiled at the man, genuinely pleased at the veteran's good fortune.
"I did," Aetius smiled back.
"There are many good men in the 1st," Ixillius affirmed. "Tell me his name, the least I can do is make sure she continues to fare well with him."
"Quintus Abelardus made the same offer," Aetius said, still smiling. "I'll not place that burden on you as well."
"There's no burden," Ixillius argued. "I'll have Quintus give me his name if you won't."
"You'd do that?" Aetius asked, a touch of wonder in his voice.
"I would, and you have my sworn word that I will," Ixillius nodded resolutely as Aetius clasped hands with him over the agreement. "If you won't tell me about the husband, tell me about the wife," Ixillius leaned his elbows on the table. "What's your daughter like?"
"My daughter?" Aetius looked up at the ceiling, considering as he took another drink. "She's her mother in everything, but mostly for being too smart, and her father in being too stubborn," he winked at Ixillius. "She's more than I hoped or expected her to be. Her marriage is happy, as well, and I couldn't beg a better husband for her. He loves her madly, and treats her better than any father has the right of asking a son-in-law to do."
Ixillius grinned along with the older man's obvious pride. Then he drank deeply at the thought of his own, opposing situation with his in-law. Aetius watched him, humor pulling at his smile.
"But today," the older Legionnaire continued, "her mother's intelligence was too quick for one of Verona's highest citizens and she demeaned the Emperor's cousin before telling him she was already married. When he discovered you are equestrian and disowned he was livid, and now we'll have to deal with the politics. The rumors from this afternoon are bad, but getting the facts to block them shouldn't be too hard once you've sobered up," Aetius nodded, as if the matter was already settled. "My apologies for lying to you at the winter spring when I said I was coming to Verona. I actually rode to Rome and set up what was needed in person. Octavian was kind enough to speak with me for the minutes I needed and I actually did receive his blessings, not like the lies his cousin was hoping would work long enough to marry your wife."
***
When Portia arrived in the city, Heliodoro greeted her with concern for her false tears. The men he'd been working beside left him behind so he could deal with his ward in private, knowing emotional young women required greater attention ... Portia held out the mask he'd worn a few times and relayed the hasty plan, her tears ended now that the audience was gone. He studied the mask for a long minute, not taking it. The plan for tonight was rushed and sloppy; an attack of opportunity driven by emotion against foes that continuously proved formidable. Of the usual amount of men there would be six missing, as well. Seven, actually, due to Marcus disappearing two nights ago (most likely drunk and occupying a brothel again).
Heliodoro studied Portia. She'd become more confident in the past weeks, something his peers were noticing. She now thought through her actions and, since the news of her brother's death and the rumors around how Dario had fallen, she no longer blindly took orders from their always promising and never delivering uncle. She had gained the same nobility as the other women who were training, which had increased her marriage prospects well beyond what he'd been hoping – with a potential for aiming higher if her attitude continued improving. He needed nothing for himself that he couldn't attain, but she was an orphaned bastard. He had always wanted more for her than he could find in a husband due to her sullen behavior and abrasive speech.
He'd thought his uncle's schemes could elevate her status into a good marriage in spite of her personality. With her new promise, though, that elevation had become unnecessary. Two men who'd laughed last year that Heliodoro was looking for a husband for her had asked him last week, separately, if she was yet engaged.
"Well?" she stated, growing uncomfortable under his gaze.
"Tell me honestly," he said. "Would one of my friends satisfy you? You would not be a wife, but there is little difference in being a mistress when you are well cared for."
Her eyes widened, her mind racing at the opportunities. Instead of answering quickly as she would have weeks ago, she swallowed hard and completed the thoughts in her mind as well as she could.
"That would be..." her voice trailed off, the growing excitement suddenly snuffed out. "Impossible. None of them tolerate me, let alone –"
"Two asked if you are yet engaged in this past week," he interrupted.
"Two?" she stuttered, incredulous. "Which two?" she asked, trying to assess the opportunity in a few seconds.
"Does that matter? You could have your pick. My friends have started speaking of your improvements in conversation, and in combat."
She blushed fetchingly at the compliment and her mind again started working through her response before blurting out anything. Heliodoro could already see her decision before she started talking again, and the knot in his gut since seeing the Prefect attack Celsus Calix and the Lady Healer finally started to relax.
"I would be the happiest mistress in all the Empire with one of your friends caring for me," she whispered, tears collecting in her eyes. He kissed her temple and hugged her close.
"That means we are beholden to no other man but Augustus," he smiled, "And no other achievements than the glory of Rome."
He wanted to laugh and shout at seeing Portia toss away the mask, and smiled that he was no longer involved in the tactically foolish attack tonight. The futures of his ward and himself now stretched beyond tomorrow morning. He lifted her up and swung her around like a child, both of them laughing.
"You must tell me who asked you for me!" Portia demanded as he set her back on her feet.
"No," he replied. "I want more asking by the New Year celebration, so I won't let you focus on only the two who have asked so far."
Once they were back in the camp, he walked a longer route than was needed to get back to his tent so that he could enjoy the attention she was getting, and show her off to more than just his friends.
***
Ixillius froze in the act of letting the skein drop so he could look at the man as the old Legionnaire's words pounded against his ears. The man who Ixillius thought of as 'Aetius' drank casually and watched the people in the room, as if he'd said nothing out of the ordinary in admitting to being Alex's father. Aetius – no, Avilius – turned back to the table, the same smile he'd worn when Ixillius had told him weeks ago that he was training civilian women spread on the older man's face.
"She actually got the fool to admit he thought wearing armor looked ridiculous, with Ennius and me standing beside her, and then turned his comments into slights against Rome. That idiot didn't even realize the depth of the insults he'd given the Legions until after she left, when Ennius starting throwing the disrespect back in his face," he stopped to chuckle. "I'm certain once Celsus the senior knows the story, every Legion passing Verona will know what was said."
Ixillius swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, and lowered the skein back to the table.
"Dria was understandably upset when she came back into Verona. Ennius told her you knew about my father's summons, and then she discovered you hadn't gone back to the encampment as ordered," the older Legionnaire sighed. "She wanted to come searching with me, but I knew you'd be in this state and I didn't think having her that angry while you were still this drunk was wise. Celsus Calix was brought to his father's house to recover – you'll have to get that story once you're sober – and I left her with him these past two hours while I searched for you. He seems to be the only one with any sway over her," he took a drink then muttered with a grin: "She's not even listening to that Lady Healer she brought here, and the gods all know she's never listened to me while she's in this temper, not even as a small child." Avilius finished his wine and waved for the lodgeman to deliver meals. "You didn't pick this lodge for the food, I see," Sertor mumbled as he started eating. "Eat, son. When the flavor is bad warm, cooling won't improve the taste. You'll want food in your stomach to soak up the wine so you have a chance at calming Dria down."
Ixillius ate mechanically. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss of what to think or how to act. He knew that Avilius had just said many things of importance, but he couldn't remember a single word past the confession of being Alex's father.
"Come on." Sertor paid for their wine and meals once their plates were empty, eyeing his son-in-law knowingly. "You need to get outside."
***
Alex paced the room, more worried about Ixillius than she wanted to admit, and furious with her gigno. Sertor had let slip that he'd come to Minerva's 1st when they'd been stopped at the spring – while she'd been 'away' – posing as an Imperial Messenger named Aetius Vitus. Ixillius had spoken highly of the man when mentioning him to Alex, but had been oblivious that the messenger was her gigno. Verus supported her fury as he was still upset from the attack this morning, and from not knowing the full politics around 'Aetius Vitus'.
Mikey had been rescued from the poor company they provided by Ennius's departure to the Legion for the night and his request to take his leave from her privately. Mikey hadn't come back after Ennius left, but Victoria crept into the room to sit and listen to Alex and Verus discussing the multitude of vindictive and fruitless options at their disposal for exacting revenge on Alex's gigno. The conversation did nothing to improve the current situation, but Alex felt better knowing they were united in their anger, and they managed to have a couple laughs over the outrageous ideas that occurred to them. Alex spun as the door opened, then she and Verus both sighed in frustration as Mikey ushered in two slaves carrying a meal fit for seven men.
"You must eat," she ordered both of them, outmatching their glares with her own. Verus rebelled with a muttered string of expletives that made the younger of the two slaves blush.
"Mind your mouth in your father's house," the older slave chastised. "You were raised with better manners than that, Celsus Calix."
Verus bit back his initial response and instead made a polite apology, receiving a curt nod from the older slave as she led the girl out.
"What?" he snapped in response to the disbelief on Mikey's face. "Veressia spent more of her time raising me than on anything else for fifteen years. You think to own a person means they should be abused or disrespected?" He nodded toward where Victoria was sitting. "Slaves become freemen and freemen serve Rome. I'll throw you out of my father's house for thinking of slaves as anything less."
"And I'll bring her back in," the older slave, Veressia, said as she came back in carrying wine. "Quintus Abelardus told me about your leg at the gathering your father held in your honor. You should prove your respect to such a good healer that you're still alive instead of barking at her like the cur you pretend you're not. Now do something useful with your mouth and eat as you were told to."
"Unrelenting barbarian," Verus accused as she filled a plate with his favorite foods.
"Posturing idiot," she snapped back, pulling his cane out of his hand and pushing him back onto the cushions on the couch. She dipped to his level to hand him the plate and held out her chin expectantly. He dutifully kissed the offered cheek and made her burst into a smile when, as she straightened up, he wrapped her waist in a spontaneous hug. He sighed contently as she squeezed him back.
"Father needs to stop marrying twits and make you his mistress," Verus stated.
"You and your idiot ideas, every visit the same since you joined the Legions," she chastised, patting his back before pushing out of the hug to return to the kitchen.
"You fight with every woman?" Alex asked, smirking at him as he started eating.
"Not all women," Verus shrugged, smiling up through his eyelashes. "Only those with enough of a mind to argue back."
***
Ixillius wiped his mouth and straightened up. Avilius was waiting a few steps away, watching the people passing in the street, genuinely amused about the stares and snide remarks. Ixillius was very aware that he and Avilius were under-dressed for being on this street, and vomiting up everything in his stomach as more than one richly-dressed group passed on their way from one house party to another only added to the embarrassment.
"That should help," Avilius stated as they started walking again. "You shouldn't get much worse tonight. Besides, Dria is much angrier with me than with you."
Sertor monopolized the conversation as they continued their walk, telling a story of a time when Alex was young and had been angry about something her father had done and had chastised him in front of a hall's worth of people. The story was meant to be humorous, but Ixillius could barely hear the words as he followed Avilius to the Celsus house. A slave, apparently posted for that purpose, ran inside the yard soon after seeing them approaching.
"So much for a final opportunity to vomit," Sertor mumbled after the slave disappeared. "Has she yelled at you in her other languages yet?" Ixillius shook his head for 'no', still unable to find his voice. Avilius patted his shoulder. "The words sound worse than they are."
Ixillius wasn't certain if Avilius was telling him, or himself. The older man sighed, bracing as if preparing for battle, and nodded once when he was mentally prepared to enter the yard.
"Let's go," he stated. "The scolding will be worse the longer she waits, and I feel Celsus Calix won't be our ally tonight."