The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 7

(Three weeks out of Bonna.)

ALEX LEFT MAX to plod along beside the cart and played with Hades instead. She'd been surprised when the little crow had shown up two days into the march, less so when he'd left after less than a day, and totally shocked when a week later he'd shown up again. Since then, he'd simply hung out with her in the cart or played in the surrounding trees if there were other crows around, taking off to go scrounge up meals but always returning at night to roost on the top edges of Verus's tent.

        It had been two weeks since Gabinius had taken off at high speeds for Illyria, the letters from herself, Verus and – she'd learned later – Ixillius tucked closely to his chest. Verus had attempted to convince Gabinius to stay another day to continue working Alex over for everything she knew, especially the information where he knew she was being intentionally vague, but had failed. Then the First File had spent three days hashing over it and blaming Alex for ruining his ability to bend men to his will because she was – in his words translated through Gabinius – as obstinate as a rub-sore ox and defied him at all times such that the men had lost respect for him.

        After three days of putting up with it, she'd snapped at him to tell her one time she hadn't done what he'd ordered. He'd grinned, ready to list off a mountain of offenses, and then started to look confused. He'd walked along beside the cart, in silence, for nearly ten minutes as he'd wracked his brain to come up with one thing he'd ordered her to do that she hadn't done, his frown deepening with each minute. Then he'd quickened his pace and strode away from the cart and hadn't talked to her for two days. He'd glared at her a lot, though. And his subordinates suddenly became very, very polite to him.

        At the end of the second day, after he'd laid down to sleep, she'd walked into his private room in the tent and sat on his stomach and annoyed him by repeatedly, gently, poking his cheek with one finger until he finally yelled at her to stop.

        "Why?" she'd replied, using her snottiest tone. "To sleep, to eat, to stay in the cart? I want to walk tomorrow." She started poking him in the neck when he didn't respond, chuckling when he clenched his eyes as tightly closed as his jaw. "I see you do not sleep, big brother."

        He tried to roll to his stomach and pull his hood over his head. She worked one hand around to his face and pinched his nose shut. His cursing was creative and spoken at high volumes when he rose to his hands and knees, dumping her off his back, and pinned her hands near her sides so she couldn't poke him anymore. There were a lot of words she didn't recognize, and even a couple English and Russian swears thrown in that he'd picked up from her.

        "You will go to sleep, you will eat, and you will stay in the cart!" he'd yelled at her.

        "I... want... to... walk!" she'd yelled back.

        "I don't care what you want!" he'd hollered. "You will not walk until the bruise is gone!"

        "Ugh!" she'd exclaimed. "Why?"

        "Because I say so!" he'd roared. She'd regarded him for a moment, then pushed up on her elbows and kissed the end of his nose.

        "I want to walk," she'd stated, as if they'd just been talking normally. He'd stared at her, incredulous and furious, and then closed his eyes and took three deep breaths.

        "I'm going to murder you," he'd said calmly, finally looking at her again. "I'm going to wait until you're asleep tonight, and then I'm going to slit your throat so I will no longer have to deal with your constant arguing."

        "You are the one to make the words to me, I only make the words back to you, so this is you who is to argue."

        "I start conversations," he argued.