The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 8

ALEX HAD WALKED for about a minute and a half when she came to a pleasant little clearing, made by the fall of an old tree sometime during the past year. She stopped there and sat on one of the thicker branches, waiting, feeling multiple sets of eyes drilling into her. After another five minutes of just waiting, she heard obvious steps approaching her from behind and stopping at a distance. When she slowly stood and turned, a man was standing between the trees just at the edge of the clearing, talking very quietly with someone that was still hidden in the shadows.

        Now that was someone who could star in one of her client's romance novels, she thought. He was taller than most men she'd seen, even Ixillius. A dark mass of tangled hair framed a chiseled face that she thought probably bested Verus in a side by side comparison. Unlike Verus and his base of self-confidence, however, this giant had a presence that oozed prowess, and the leather banding and leggings he was wearing left little to the imagination about his physical condition being at a peak. His eyes were so dark as to be almost black when he finally turned to face her and stepped two paces into the clearing. His gaze settled on her heavily as he made his own assessment, sparking with amusement that her stare was level on him.

        "Do you to speak?" she asked.

        "I do, Lady Avilia." He nodded a greeting without dropping his eyes.

        Damn it, Alex thought. He not only knew who she was, his Latin sounded way better than hers, as well.

        "Your man says that I am to here to sell the horse?" the question was implied by her tone only.

        He grinned at her poor language skills and seemingly ridiculous errand, taking a single step closer and spreading his hands to highlight the weapons on his belt as if he was only shrugging. Alex wondered if he knew he was posing, or if posturing was the way he was. As he tilted his head and blinked his eyes, heavy with promise and little spark of anything else, she settled on the second choice unless proven otherwise.

        "He does tell me that. But why should I wish to own the loser of the race?" He watched her closely, looking for any shock or surprise, seeming off balance to find none.

        "I ride Max." She said the simple statement as a fact, shrugging. "And that is close enough," she added toward the footsteps slowly approaching behind her. "Young men are bold," she announced as the footsteps stopped, "and do not grow old if stupid."

        Everything in her posture changed. She slid into the fighting stance with a quick shift in her weight, and the grin she shot over her shoulder at the young man, barely out of boyhood, was feral.

        "Go back to the trees," she threatened quietly.

        He stumbled back from her, quickly for the first few steps before turning and attempting to walk with some measure of pride. When she turned back to the first man, regaining her initial docile posture and bearing, he was eyeing her with caution. Good, she thought.

        "You know what the First File says before I walk to here," she stated, but the man nodded anyway, still watching her carefully. "This horse is good for a woman," she glanced over her shoulder and cocked an eyebrow where she could see the youth in the shadows, "or a boy," she finished, turning back to the man in the clearing with her. "But the horse is to need rest, and to need care. First File says the price, the Legionnaire says the fair price to be only half. I sell the horse to you for a half of that."

        A shape materialized out of the shadows where the man had first stood and spoken to someone. The fellow who came out was older, very quiet, and had the same easy grace that Quintus possessed. Alex made a point to drop her eyes when she nodded a greeting to him, her gigno's lessons in respecting old soldiers ingrained so deeply that it was almost instinct, even when facing an enemy. He spoke too quietly for her to even catch a whisper, then turned and went back to disappear into the shadows at the edge of the clearing. The first man thought for a few moments, a task that furrowed his brow considerably, then gestured to his left. A young man came out, leading a young woman.