“And I know that our friends wouldn’t look down at her in any way, but it’s not them that I worry about. It’s the men in the other Cohorts, and the officers. You hear how the Tribs and Legates talk about our women, and you know how some of them will go out of their way to take a Gregarius’ woman just to show that he can. If one of those slimy little bastards tried that with Juno, I’d end up just like Atilius.”
Vibius was right, or at least partially so. The nobles, and indeed even some of the rankers, looked down their noses at women who joined themselves to a Legionary as little better than a whore, and while other Gregarii who might feel that way were wise enough to keep their mouths shut about it, officers had no such compunctions. At least, bad officers did not; I noticed over the years that the Tribunes and Legates who we respected the most returned it back, the one possible exception being Labienus, but he won and much is forgiven with a man like that. Nevertheless, I did not think that this would be the same for Juno, part of the reason being what I relayed to Vibius, but another part of it was because he was my friend. I must admit that it is a mark of my hubris that I believed that my reputation and authority would shield Vibius, but more importantly Juno, from any of the scorn and risk posed by predatory officers.
Besides, I had formed a half-cooked plan that I was sure would solve more than one problem, and I sat forward, eager to launch my attack. “I understand all that Vibius, but I've got an idea that I think will put your mind at ease. What if,” I paused for a moment, for no other reason than to make him wait, his earlier expression of consternation replaced by an almost pathetic hope “you bring Juno, and she can move in with Gisela? They can live together, and look out for each other.”
I am not sure what reaction I was expecting, but it was not what I got. Instead of showing any enthusiasm, Vibius’ eyebrow raised again, and I knew this expression intimately. It was the same look I got when I proposed that to save time we cut across a neighbor’s field that we always avoided because of the very large, very angry bull that claimed it as his domain. We were around eleven and twelve, so I felt that we had grown sufficiently strong and fast enough that getting past some tired old bull would not be much of a challenge, a sentiment that Vibius did not share. I only convinced him by taunting him to the point where his anger overruled his caution, and despite the fact we made it across unscathed, it was not without a mad dash and a dive over the stone wall, the bull’s breath literally blasting our heels as we dived over. A fact that he never let me forget, and I was half-expecting that damn bull to be brought up now. Thankfully, he remained back in that field in Hispania.
“Have you talked to Gisela about this? I mean, is she all right with this idea?”
Of course I had not talked to Gisela, so while I waved the question off and gave a snort of manly contempt, Vibius’ question ignited a little nagging fire in the back of my brain. “What does she have to do with it?” I demanded, and for a moment I was sure that Vibius’ eyebrow was going to reach new heights that neither of us had ever seen before. His open skepticism stung me, and I continued a bit more hotly than needed, “Gisela will do what I tell her to do. She’s my woman, and she lives in my house. Besides, she’ll love Juno the same way we do. How could she not?”
I think that idea had more impact than anything else I said. As far as Vibius was concerned, Juno was as close to perfection as a mortal could be, and indeed, who could not grow to love her the way he did?
“Well,” I could tell he was weakening, and I thought hurriedly for something to tip the scale, as he said slowly, “if she lived with Gisela, I think that’s the only way I could see this working. Still, I just don’t know.”
It was then I was struck with the inspiration. “What if you could go back home to get her, visit your family and bring her back?”
I knew I had convinced him, his other eyebrow shooting up to join the first in a look of surprise and joy. “You’d sign me a pass for that long? I mean Titus, it'd take at least a month.” “More like two,” I responded. “But you’ve earned it, and we’re sending men home on leave now anyway. In fact,” I tried to sound casual, “I was thinking that I might take some leave as well.”
I had been thinking no such thing, and in truth, I was not sure that when it came down to it, I could afford to take the time away from the Cohort, what with Celer lurking around. However, if it convinced Vibius, I would at least consider it. I was pleased to see that my last remark tipped the scale, and Vibius and I spent the rest of the evening, the alea board forgotten, talking excitedly about finally going home.
I planned on spending the next night at the house in town, except that I found that certain urgent matters suddenly cropped up that demanded my presence in camp, so I sent Zeno to let Gisela know that I would not be coming home that night. She took it well enough, as she did the next night, when other matters came up. On the third night, Zeno came back clearly flustered, apprehensive about relaying the message that Gisela gave him to deliver to me. On the fourth night, he staggered back, the blood barely dried from the cut on his head where a cup bounced off of it. It was then I realized two things; I was putting off talking to Gisela about the whole Juno idea, and that pregnant women are at least temporarily insane. This did not make going home any more attractive a proposition, yet I knew further delay would make things worse, and I will confess right here and now, walking up the street towards the house my heart was hammering in much the same manner as it did before I went smashing into a line of Gauls. The lamp was burning outside the door as always, but it was not the warming, welcoming sight to me that it was meant to be. In my state, it marked the entrance to Hades, and I spent several moments pacing outside the door, working up the nerve to go in.
“Oh-oh, someone must be in some trouble. What did you do, Centurion?”
Snapping my head around, I saw an older man, a Roman merchant from the look of him, grinning at me. For a moment, I felt an angry retort rise up, then it disappeared in a wave of sheepishness, and I found myself giving him a rueful grin. “I’ve been staying away a few nights.”
“Ah, found another bed to warm, did you? Well, that may be a man’s right, but in my experience, women don’t tend to see it that way.” His reference to another woman was the first time it even occurred to me that this was a possibility that Gisela might consider, and if my heart were racing before, it was a mild trot compared to what it was doing now, my stomach now threatening to join in the mad dash. My dismay was plain for him to see, so he wrongly assumed that he had guessed right. “Well, in my experience Centurion, a gift is always the best way to smooth these things over. The shinier the better.”
“She’s pregnant,” I said miserably, his face instantly changing to one of open sympathy, and even worse, pity.
“Gerrae! Well, then I’m afraid that you’re in for it, Centurion. At least you wore your sword, but you might want to go back and get into full battle gear for this. Good luck.” He turned to continue on his way, but I plainly heard him mutter, “You’re going to need it.”
It did not go well that night. Not only was I denied the right of the conjugal bed, I was denied the physical bed as well, banished instead to spend the night in the servants’ quarters, making them a bit nervous as you can imagine. I could have simply gone back to camp, yet for some reason, an instinct that I never felt before told me that it was important that I stay the night. I was right; in fact, I sent the freedman back to camp to inform the Primus Pilus and the Centurions of my Cohort that I was delayed by urgent business in town, and that Celer, as the next ranking Centurion, would take command of the Cohort until I returned. Although I was not happy with the idea of Celer running things, I reasoned that the amount of damage he could do in a day would be far less than the damage done to my relationship with the mother of my unborn child if I left the house. My instinct proved to be correct; in fact, the act of staying and not returning to camp had more impact on Gisela than any of my words did, since she knew not only of my devotion to the army, but my ongoing battle with Celer. The fact that I stayed to talk to her smoothed the waters more than any gift, and it was an important lesson for me in how to keep peace in my home. I decided that it was not a good idea to bring up the whole Juno question, given that I just made the peace, so when I did return to camp shortly before midday I now was faced with either avoiding Vibius, who was eagerly waiting to hear how things had gone, or lying to him. Fortunately, Celer did not get a chance to inflict much mischief in my absence, and I took over the Cohort to resume our day.