He examined the faces of the men listening to him expecting to see anger or resentment at his words but there was none. “I will do my best to help protect you, all of you, and your families and expect your loyalty in return, that is all I ask of each and every one of you.” He paused, “When we get back later, I want you all to tell those who are close to you exactly what happened today, leave nothing out. Tell it as it happened so everyone is clear, do you all hear me?” Heads nodded their understanding. “We have to be united against the legions of Rome, each and every one of us or we’re doomed to failure. Those men who have made those so called sacrifices to our gods have done nothing to help us in that aim, in fact they have merely done us harm. I would have persuaded those soldiers to help us but that is no longer possible because those fools did what they did. Do you all hear me and understand what I’m saying and why I’m saying it?” He asked. They did. “Come then, let’s get back and out of this weather.” He said and led them west.
Later that night in the warmth of the roundhouse he shared with Mott, he discussed the day’s events and watched as she screwed up her face in disgust as he explained what he had seen on Mona. He told her of the speech he had made to the men and what he had told them he expected of them, she smiled approvingly at his words.
“Husband I would expect nothing less from you and if they don’t agree,” she caressed his face, “we’ll know soon enough and we’ll take our people and leave, but I don’t think that will happen. The Silures, Ordovices, Deceangli and Demetae have sworn their allegiance to you. They are proud and know that you will do whatever you can to ensure their survival.” She kissed him.
“Do you believe that, even though I killed one of their druid leaders?” He asked now doubting himself.
She kissed him again and led him to their fur covered bed, “Yes husband I do.” She said and pulled him into bed.
Varro woke up three days later. He was barely aware of the time in-between from wrapping himself in a blanket and falling onto his bed, until he tried to open his eyes again. Blurred images flashed through his mind, fits of coughing, cold sweats and an almost drunken sensation, where was he? His eyes were still heavy as he struggled to open them, sensing someone was near. He felt something against his flesh and then realised he was naked but he didn’t remember undressing. He shook his head slowly and heard a slight rustle as his dark hair brushed the pillow.
“Ah you’re awake.” A voice said, slightly husky, he searched his memory, it was familiar, he tried to concentrate but the pain in his head prevented it. A wet cloth was applied to his forehead.
“You’ve been out cold for days, three in fact.” The voice said, “We were worried you might never recover at one point when you became delirious and started shouting and trying to fight us.
“What, what are you talking about?” He managed through a croaky voice.
“It’s me Varro, Brenna. I’ve been here since Grattius found you when you didn’t come to our room that night. He came looking for you and found you thrashing around, wrapped in a blanket, we’ve been so worried.”
He raised his head a little, it pounded somewhere at the back. “What happened?” He felt her sit on the side of the bed.
“The medicus thinks it was a fever brought on by the cold and rain, I’m so glad you’re alright now.” She touched his left shoulder. He focused his eyes and her blurred face became more defined, then clear, her own dark eyes compassionately staring down at him. He saw she was wearing a short sleeved tunic, her light brown thighs exposed. Automatically, without thinking, he placed the palm of his hand there. Her skin was smooth to the touch.
“You’ve been here all along?” He said trying to sit up.
“Stay still,” she said and poured some water, “here, drink this.” She held the cup to his mouth and he took a few sips. Then he suddenly tried to sit up quickly.
“The mission,” he said eyes wide, “we’re not supposed to be here.” She pushed him back, “Don’t worry, it’s been delayed until you’re fit to travel.” He lay back closing his eyes.
“Grattius wanted to go without you, but the Legate wouldn’t allow it and I didn’t feel happy with just him and Lita for company.” She looked at the window at the dark clouds above, “It’s probably a good thing you got ill here or we’d have been stuck outside in the middle of nowhere, no shelter, you could have died.”
“Grattius would have strapped me to Staro and brought me back.” He opened and closed his eyes blinking, “I feel like I’ve drank the legion’s entire wine cache, my head.” He brushed a hand through his thick black hair.
“Lie still and relax, in a few days you’ll be fine.” She rubbed his stomach. “You need to rest and recuperate. You know you men suffer worse from these things than women.” She smiled and looked down seeing the physical reaction to her touch, “See, you’re beginning to feel better already.” Her hand moved lower and the door opened.
“Ah awake at last.” Grattius said bursting into the room. Brenna pulled her hand back quickly. “We were beginning to think you’d sleep through the entire winter.” He looked down at Varro, “So, feeling better then? You’ve had Brenna looking after you for three days solid. She hasn’t left your side except to wash, even slept in that chair.” He looked at the large framed wooden two seat chair against the wall. They both stared at him, “What?” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh right I see,” he smirked, “feeling a lot better then?” He walked back to the door, “Well don’t overdo it, you’ll need all your energy once we get moving.” He grabbed the door handle, “I’ll be back later.”
Hearing the door closed firmly, Brenna smiled, “Now where were we?” Her hand moved back to his stomach and then went lower.
Four days later, Varro and his small party were ready to move out. Their horses were packed as were two mules that carried rations, clothes, blankets, bowls and food. The day was overcast, a grey sky overhead threatened rain but it was relatively mild as the clouds moved slowly above. Varro and Grattius were dressed in local garb and carried long swords, they knew the disguise might work form a distance but if anyone got close, they’d see their short hair and become suspicious.
“Juno’s cunt!” Grattius said looking down at his clothing and then up at Varro, “We look like a right pair of barbarian ball breaking bastards dressed like this, I just thank the gods my poor old mother isn’t here to see this, she’d slice me a new hole in my arse that’s for sure.” He said pulling at the thick woollen jacket he’d been given, “And will you look at these fucking pants!” He bent forward and examined the chequered trousers the quarter master had supplied him with, they were a dull yellow with light brown lines criss-crossing them, “I don’t know about a trip east, how about a fool in the circus?”
Varro smiled coughing, he still hadn’t fully recovered from his virus, “Ah we’ll be fine and at least our legs won’t get cold eh?” He looked down at his long trousers that matched those that Grattius was wearing.
“I’m glad our type of clothing is to your liking.” Lita said as she appeared in the stable with Brenna closely behind her.
“Yes, most attractive you both look,” Brenna added, “I don’t know if the females along the way will be able to resist you, it may take us some time to reach our destination.” She went to her horse and threw the saddle up onto its back.
“Very funny I’m sure, you two could join the act on stage. We could make a fortune between us, the two Roman fools and the barbarians with blades.” Grattius said securing his own saddle. “How I ever got myself into this mess I’ll never know.”
It took a few moments for them all to be happy with the way things were packed onto the mules and to sort out what they were carrying, weapons primarily, before they led the mounts out of the wooden framed building.
“Off somewhere nice then Centurion?” One of the young legionaries asked who looked after the horses and mules.
“Never you mind, you nosey little bastard.” Grattius said climbing onto the mounting bench located outside and jumping up onto his horse. “You just go and groom some of those animals in there and mind your own business.” The trooper who couldn’t have been more than twenty years of age looked hurt.