The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 11

THE NEXT NIGHT there were twenty new men waiting on the Training Ground when Alex and Verus came out, some Legion but most Auxiliary, and at least triple the size of the usual crowd watching. She made sure to greet Dario by name, and then set those who were unfamiliar at sword work into basic drills under the eyes of practiced Legionnaires who volunteered when Verus asked. Once the trainees were settled, she and Verus started into their regular routine of stepping through the forms she'd already taught him at the speeds he chose, then she either taught him something new or they practiced one of the forms he knew, depending on what he wanted to work on.

        Tonight, Verus had just wanted to practice things he knew. Alex borrowed a sword again and stepped through what she wanted to work on, pausing now and then to watch Verus or any of the others and offer coaching. She wasn't surprised to see Brasus at the front of the crowd tonight, and took advantage of having him there to spot her for what she was working on. For how quickly he came to her side, she assumed that was why he was at the front again.

        She was surprised, however, when half of the new trainees opted out of the sparring matches and instead drifted over to watch what she was doing. When she broke off for a drink of water and to return the borrowed sword, talking with Brasus about what he'd noticed she could improve, one of the trainees had nervously called for her attention.

        "Lady Avilia," he started, using her formal title. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

        She shrugged, thinking through the best words to use.

        "Many places, from many teachers."

        "Why do you fight, Lady?" another trainee asked.

        That one actually stumped her for a moment. Training had just been the way of life after her momma died, and had been part of her early childhood games before her momma died if she was honest. But after, her gigno had fallen back on what he knew when their family became just the two of them. Then when he disappeared, training had been a reprieve from society. The wages from the two clubs she taught and trained at paid for her engineering degree, and a weekend defense course for the survivalist company had landed her a job she'd liked. Then she'd had to kill a client in self-defense and the training had become more than a hobby, elevating back up being the way of life that her gigno had taught her. She hadn't ever really been without it.

        "I do not know anything else," she finally replied.

        "Have you fought in a war?" the first questioner asked.

        "No."

        "But you've killed men, right? Before the slaves in Bonna?" asked Dario.

        "I have."

        "In duels?" a different trainee asked, obviously hoping for an exciting story.

        "No," Alex replied simply and everyone in hearing distance seemed to lean forward expectantly. Alex looked around, sighed at Brasus's raised eyebrow, and sheathed her sword. "I have not had enough strong wine tonight to tell the stories," she said, getting a few chuckles.

        "Are you going to fight in Illyria?" someone in the crowd asked.

        "If my father says to," she replied, dodging around having memorized her own grave's inscription.

        "That would make you fight?" Dario asked.

        "What makes a woman go to war?" another voice in the crowd piped up before she could reply.

        "I am a poor choice of a woman to ask," she laughed. "I have trained for all my life, so for me to war is by one order from the good First File. For a woman, not me, she is usually to fight for love or hate."