“He’s gone!”
Flavia had no need to ask whom she meant. “Gone where?”
“To Rome,” she answered, her chest heaving.
“You’re mistaken.”
“He left with the Greek a short time ago. One of our people saw him on the road.”
“He would never abandon me.”
Varacinda’s teeth pressed nervously into her lower lip but she said nothing.
Flavia picked up her clothes and dressed and then grabbed her bow and quiver. She leaped onto her horse and raced for the trees.
She tore through the woods and made for a nearby hill that overlooked the road leading from Aquabona. When she reached the summit, she could just make out the small Roman column receding in the distance. The riders were too far to distinguish, but Rufio’s blue tunic was easy to see.
Just an escort. He’ll be back tonight.
She resolved to wait.
Throughout the day she sat on the grass and her horse grazed nearby. Larinda came with a flask of water and a basket of bread and fruit. They lay untouched beside her while she stared endlessly at the road.
As the shadows lengthened, her body began to feel unbearably heavy. She felt as if she could hardly move.
Below, the road had become a hideous thing, mocking her with its emptiness.
Finally, in the failing light, she pushed herself to her feet. Sensing her sadness, her horse came up and nuzzled her. Flavia pressed her face to the mare’s graceful neck and cried softly.
“Did you think a soldier of Rome could not obey a command?”
She snapped her head around.
“Rufio!”
The sun’s dying rays fell onto his silver hair and blue tunic and the belt and dagger at his waist.
She tried to speak but no words came.
“I met Larinda in the settlement,” he said. “When she saw me, she wept.”
“But we saw you leave . . . on the road . . . I saw your tunic. . . .”
“I’ve been in the fort all day. My tunic?” Suddenly he laughed so loudly he startled the birds roosting in the trees. “That was Diocles. He asked for one as a memento. He needs more muscle to fill it out, but he has time.”
Flavia moistened her lips. “What did you mean—not obey a command?”
“You ordered me not to abandon you again. I’m a centurion of Rome—I’m here to show you how a man of Rome obeys powers greater than himself.”
“Oh Rufio!” she said and sprang toward him like a deer.
She leaped into his arms and crushed herself to him. She pressed her face against his cheek and felt the pleasant sting of the stubble of his beard against her skin. She kissed his cheek and ear and neck and inhaled deeply of his scent.
“Love me forever,” she commanded.
“I will,” he whispered as he coiled his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, fragrant now with oil of cedar and the blossoms of spring.
LEGION Page 34
