***
Making our way behind the praetorium, Santino, Bordeaux, and I unpacked the small, two man tents we’d added to our assault packs. Night had fallen, and we set up a portable battery powered lantern that lit up the small area where we intended to make camp. Combined with the glow sticks we had hanging from our vests, we had plenty of illumination.
Not to mention a crowd.
The tents were extremely simple in design. The frame was folded in on itself, and was made out of an extremely thin, flexible, and lightweight material, but also extremely durable and water proof. Laying it out, right side up, I pulled on a tab, and immediately backed away. No longer pinned in place, springs connecting the poles together shot out in a choreographed sequence, and within five seconds, a small, black tent materialized out of thin air. Those watching were stunned. I heard snorting coming from the praetorium, and looked to see Galba shaking his head before returning inside.
The three of us pounded a few stakes in the ground to secure our tents, before backing away to admire our handiwork. Hands on his hips, rifle still hanging in front of him, Santino shook his head.
“You know, sir,” he said, speaking to Vincent, “I’ve been thinking.”
“That would be a first,” I jibed.
He ignored me. “Since we’re going to be cooped up in these small tents for the entire winter, I was thinking maybe we switch up our swim team pairs. Just to shake things up.” He made this last comment while looking at Helena, flicking his eyebrows and nodding toward his tent suggestively.
I punched him in his shoulder with more than just playful force.
“Never mind,” he said, rubbing his arm.
“So, sir?” I asked Vincent. “Do you know anything about this particular legion?”
“Actually, I do, but not much.” He looked around to make sure there weren’t any legionaries around, even though he spoke in English. “Unfortunately, despite it’s being named for the goddess Fortuna, this legion’s luck doesn’t last very long. It spent time on the Rhine and fighting the Britons, but was eventually destroyed in 70 A.D. along with a sister legion.”
“Just out of curiosity,” I continued. “Since Galba apparently trained this legion, who does it fight for during the ‘war of four emperors’?”
“Ironically it sides with Vittelius, and fights directly against Otho and Galba. You have to remember that most of these men won’t be serving in the legion thirty years from now during that civil war, so even though Galba first raised the legion, there would be little loyalty left to him.”
I nodded. That made sense.
“Sir?” Santino queried. “How could you possibly know all of this?”
Vincent looked at Santino blankly. “I’ve been studying the classics since you were in diapers, son.”
Santino shook his head. “And I thought Jacob was a dork.”
“Anyway,” Vincent said, moving on. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m taking a nap.” He spoke with the first hint of lightheartedness I’d heard from him since taking command. Santino sighed, realizing he’d have to share the tent with the much older man for the winter.
Knowing my roommate smelled much better than Vincent did, I didn’t have any such problems, so I went inside my own tent without comment. It was roomier than it looked from the outside, and I estimated it could fit at least three men about my size comfortably. I figured Helena and I, along with our gear, would fit snugly. Taking off my pack, I placed everything against the left wall, and unraveled my bed roll. It was thin and light, and while warm, I suspected I’d still need to borrow some Roman blankets for the winter.
After laying everything out neatly, I removed my shirt very gently, quickly becoming aware of the extremely large bruises spreading from the left side of my abdomen to my right shoulder, and all along my back. They hadn’t hurt during the march and our first night because I’d been too tired to notice them, but I now was beginning to feel them. Combined with my arm, which still hadn’t been properly tended to, I was quite a mess.
Helena came in and zipped the tent closed behind her.
Similarly unarming herself, she laid her bedroll down next to mine while I tried to redress my wound. I covered it with a new bandage, and tried to tie it off using my free hand and teeth. Helena noticed my clumsy or inelegant effort and moved close, taking the bandage in her own hands.
“Here,” she said softly, “let me do that.”
“Sure.”
The wound wasn’t that deep, but it traversed nearly my entire forearm. The scar would probably last my entire life, but I didn’t mind. It would join all the rest.
Helena removed my sloppily arranged bandage and cleaned the wound as best she could. She took meticulous care of my arm, tending to it like a seasoned nurse and worried mother both. After cleaning it, she sprayed it with an antibacterial ointment, smiling at me sweetly when I flinched from the sting, and finally replaced the bandage, wrapping it tightly and securing it firmly.
She seemed satisfied the bandage wouldn’t easily come off, so she moved her eyes to the extremely large bruise on my side. She frowned and probed it with a gentle touch. She must have thought it would be soothing, or something, but it was anything but. I winced at the pain and had to jerk myself away from her.
“Sorry,” she said gently, moving her hand to my unharmed, but bare chest. “It looks bad.”
“Really? Can’t be any worse than the last bruise I had,” I said sarcastically. In fact I couldn’t have been farther from the truth. My entire body felt like it was on fire.
Helena opened her mouth to speak but shut it with exaggerated slowness. It didn’t take a genius to know what was on her mind. I laid there in silence as well, trying to figure out how best to broach the subject of our earlier kiss. It would have been far easier had it been as innocent as it seemed, but it wasn’t. Emotions had been high, adrenaline and endorphins pumped by our frantic rush to reach Caligula, and while the feelings had felt real enough – the question was how much they meant.
Helena leaned away from me suddenly and crouched on the balls of her feet, her forearms resting on her thighs. “Jacob, about earlier…”
I leaned myself up and waved a hand to cut her off. “It was what it was, Helena.”
Her eyebrows narrowed. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”
“I care for you, Helena, I do, and that kiss…” I shuddered in comic relief and she smiled, “but there was a lot of emotions bandying about, brought on by a very stressful argument. I’m not so sure that’s the best way to start something more intimate. I don’t want to risk our friendship because of our impulsiveness.”
She stared at me and sighed, falling backwards onto her butt to sit more comfortably. “I understand, Jacob. I suppose I feel the same.”
“You do?”
“Don’t sound so relieved. I’m sorry I came off so strong, but I meant what I said back there.” She paused and reached out to grab my hand. “And I do need you, but I don’t want our insecurities to jeopardize what we already have. You’re my friend, and that’s enough.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “For now?”
She smirked and gazed at me intently. “Perhaps.”
I didn’t smile, but inwardly I felt good. Here was one of the first mature conversations I’d had in a long time and it was relieving. Our bond of trust had been rebuilt and it felt stronger now, more real. I squeezed her hand reassuringly and let go before lowering myself gently onto my bedroll, my head feeling only slightly better than it had a few minutes ago. While my emotions had been soothed, the physical ailments certainly had not.
Helena laid herself beside me and started to unbutton her pants. She stopped and looked at me. “Close your eyes, Lieutenant.”
I smiled and did as I was told, clapping my hands over my eyes for good measure.
“If we’re going to be living together, I think we’ll have to come up with a few
rules.”
“Cohabitation rules?” I asked.
“Call it what you like, just keep your hands and eyes to yourself. Okay, you can look now.”
I turned, half expecting her to be laying there naked, having just played me a minute ago, but I found her bundled up in her sleeping bag, nothing but her head and arms exposed. It was for the best I suppose.
She looked at me with dreary eyes. “We’re going to be okay, right?”
I took a deep breath and looked toward the ceiling. “I really don’t know, Helena. We may have changed history by keeping Caligula healthy and sane, but I don’t know how much it will change. He may never reclaim the throne, and we’ll be targets right alongside him.” I took a second to think. “And if we can’t get back to Rome, I don’t know how we’ll be able to find the sphere. I don’t even know where to start even if we do find it and I…”
The sounds of soft snores coming from Helena interrupted me. I glanced over to find her completely asleep. It was probably just as well. She didn’t need to hear my useless musings on if and how we could get home. I had no idea about anything really, and it wasn’t worth speculating at this point. It was best to stay positive. Lord knows life wasn’t about to get any easier, and we had to focus on the present. I had no idea when our last day in ancient Rome would come, but it wasn’t impossible to foresee it coming soon.
One way or another.
Part Three
The Last Roman (The Praetorian Series - Book I) Page 48
