Diana pitied the poor man. Even though he was not a legionary and did not take part in the fighting, he had to deal with the aftermath. If given the choice, most legionaries would sooner fight a thousand battles, rather than deal with the abject suffering that followed a single engagement. Diana nodded and then turned to Proximo, who stood loyally by, though his own senses were assailed by what they had witnessed.
“Return to the manor,” she directed. “Have the servants gather every spare blanket, bed sheet, towel, and whatever cloth we may have lying around. Have them boil water, as much as they can, fill every spare vat and jug in my possession. Also…tell my husband where to find me.”
“Yes, my lady,” Proximo replied, his face creased in worry. As soon as he had left, Diana turned to the orderly once more. She removed her stola, so that she was only wearing her tunic vest and riding breaches.
“It seems you are short staffed, as well,” she asserted as she proceeded to tear her stola into long strips.
Artorius was surprised by all the activity in his house. A cart that the gardener used was piled high with sheets and blankets. Wine vats and large clay jugs were stacked alongside with steam escaping from them.
“What’s going on?” he asked a slave, who was using a large rope to hold everything in place.
“My lady’s orders, sir,” the man replied averting his eyes downward. “This is to go to the hospital. We were also told to let you know that that is where you can find her.”
“The hospital?” Artorius asked to no one in particular. He had been there every day since their return from Frisia, visiting his wounded legionaries. He knew the squalid conditions that infected the place, and the thought of his wife being there horrified him. Suddenly, injuries to his side and leg seemed to cry out as he leaned against his vine stick, a realization coming to him. He hung his head, deeply ashamed. He had returned to the comforts of his manor house, not once thinking about how he could use his ample resources to help his men. Diana had spent five minutes in that hellhole and she knew what needed to be done. He cursed himself and started the mile-long trek back to the fortress.
Night had fallen, and it had started to rain by the time he reached the hospital. The cart from his house arrived but minutes after he did. He watched as Diana rushed from the door that led to the barracks portion of the hospital. Her hair was disheveled, her stola gone, and her tunic covered in blood and other fluids. She had attempted to keep her hands and arms clean, though these were still caked with grime and flaking blood. He stood fascinated as orderlies starting taking blankets and covering up the shivering auxiliaries that lay on the ground. Three more had taken vats of steaming water and a number of rags into the billets. Most of the rest went with Diana into the operating wing.
As he limped towards the door, he saw Diana emerge once again. She had been there since early afternoon and was completely exhausted. She had stayed on, even after the night shift at the hospital had taken over their duties from the day staff. She noticed her husband for the first time as she leaned against the door jam, her arm stretched over her head. She looked down, unsure what to say. When she looked up again, he simply nodded and took her by the arm. She directed their servants who had come with the cart to stay and assist the hospital staff with anything they required.
Not a word was spoken between them as they walked out of the gate to the fortress. Diana looked haggard in the torchlight, though the guards knew better than to say anything. Artorius pretended to not notice the looks of horror on their faces. As they approached a small stream, Diana stumbled off the path and collapsed to her knees. She started vomiting uncontrollably. Artorius knelt next to her, ignoring the growing pain in his side and leg that now made walking very difficult for him. Diana was now crying openly, her sobs echoing through the darkness.
“Dear gods, those poor boys!” she struggled to say. “So much suffering! What have they done to deserve this?” Her face fell into her hands as she let loose all the emotion that had been building up inside of her.
Artorius placed his arm around her shoulder, but when Diana turned to put her arm around his waist, she accidentally ran her hand over his stitched up side. He gasped in pain and collapsed onto his backside. Diana sobbed and turned away from him, beating her fists into the ground.
“I’m so sorry!” she cried. “I cannot even touch the one I love without hurting him!”
Artorius took a few deep breaths as he tried to clear his head. He then reached around from behind Diana and took both her hands in his.
“Here, you can grab onto me here,” he said as he pulled her closer to him.
“I cannot go home,” Diana whimpered, “not with what those boys are going through. It’s not right!” Exhaustion and sorrow consumed her, and she was in a type of stupor.
“Then we’ll just lay here,” Artorius replied, soothingly. He eased onto his side, pulling Diana close, her back resting against his chest, his powerful arms wrapped around her waist. He winced as he accidentally bumped his wound against a rock, but managed to stifle any further groans.
“I’m sorry,” Diana cried softly.
A chill breeze made her shiver and Artorius held her tightly. He was instantly taken back to the night on the Rhine in Braduhenna, though he refrained from mentioning this.
The glow of a lamp shone over them as a passing patrol spotted them down by the water. As Artorius looked up behind him, he recognized the voice of the Decanus leading the men.
“Centurion Artorius!” Sergeant Felix said with surprise. “You alright, sir?”
Diana had tucked her head and had her eyes shut hard. Artorius could not help but chuckle softly at the absurdity of their situation.
“Fine,” he replied. “Though if you could do me a favor; run back to the barracks and grab the blanket off my bunk in the Centurion’s quarters.”
“Of course, sir,” Felix replied, shaking his head.
The entire squad looked baffled as they all glimpsed at their commander lying in the grass, arms around his wife.
“Didn’t look like they were fucking,” one of the men muttered, drawing a sharp rebuke from Felix.
Diana giggled nervously, which helped relieve some of her emotional strain.
“I’m sorry to have embarrassed you,” she said softly.
Artorius ran the back of his hand gently over the side of her face, causing her to sigh.
“After all you’ve done for the lads, there is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he replied. “I hope you don’t mind Felix fetching us a blanket. At least now those poor auxiliaries stuck outside the hospital have some comfort, thanks to you.”
“I had to do something,” Diana replied. “I couldn’t continue to live in pampered luxury while those who give me that right suffer in the cold after they have given so much. It saddens me to think that this is the aftermath of all wars, and yet once the fighting is over, those who have given the most are immediately forgotten.”
“You were named after a goddess,” Artorius observed. “And now you have become like a goddess to those men. If ever the fates gave us a divine protector, I now hold her in my arms.”
Diana returned to the hospital two days later. She insisted on working as an orderly, despite her status as both a noble and a woman. She procured medicines, bandages, and blankets to supplement the Legion’s exhausted supplies. She also arranged for barrels of fresh water to be brought in and refilled daily. More permanent shelters were added to house the auxiliaries who had been outside. From sunrise to sunset she would assist the medics, while offering as much comfort to the sick and dying as she was able. It took a toll on her emotionally, though in the end it made her that much stronger. Her husband was like a father to the men of his Century, and now Lady Diana had become a goddess to the entire Legion.