The Centurion's Woman

Chapter 29

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.