and sleeping, when she didn't spend her time with taking care of him. He had some pictures about her leaning above him and touching his wounds. He felt much pain, but he never complained. He didn't mind the aching. At least, he knew he was alive.
-Forgiveness, why are you here? - He asked after a minute.
-You don't remember anything? - She was confused.
He had some pieces of memories in his head, but the whole picture was missing.
-My wife is dead. - He said mournfully and he closed his eyes. His breath was deeper, but gloomy.
Julia was moved by his emotions. Even if he didn't say a word of how he was doing, it was easy to see how affected he was.
-Appius confirmed it already. - Julia said slowly, insecure.
-Appius? - He was immediately present again. - What has Appius to do with it?
Julia watched his spontaneous move attentively. He sat up in the bed and gazed at her with impatience. He needed more information, she seemed to know things he wanted to know.
-With all due respect, you really don't remember anything? - Her doubts weren't strong. It was rather a kind of disbelieve. She wondered how he could forget the way he defended her just a few days ago. As she was travelling with her husband, they were attacked by a Barbarian horde. The fight started unexpectedly. Nobody had assumed that the enemy could attack a Roman convoy on the North-Eastern borders of the Pannonia province within the Roman Empire. Julia remembered that she started being worried about her integrity due to perspective of spending her time just with her husband. Maxentius Claudius wasn't a pleasant man. He was much older than she and she was already almost twenty. Half year ago, she had to marry him due to the request of her father. Julius Fabius gave her away to a man she didn't respect and didn't like at all. Julia wondered many times what was more important to her father than her dignity.
Marcus Lucius noticed her absence and his impatience grew exponentially. If his curiousness and impatience would have been shown on a graph, it would have looked like an upward-sloping function which increases faster as the state of nosiness increases above the x-axis. He repeated his last question and ignored the pain in the chest. He knew he shouldn't have changed his position, because his wound opened itself and blood appeared on the grey pieces of material. His voice was determined and brought Julia back to reality.
-I think I should call Octavian. - She spoke calmly, shyly.
-Fair enough, but please stay here. Stay and tell me what you know. - It didn't sound like a request, rather like an order.
Julia's body was tensed and Marcus Lucius wasn't sure whether she didn't like talking to him or whether she didn't like the topic. She seemed to be insecure and feeling unwell. Her muscles on the naked arms and young face were visibly strained. She analysed whether she should go away or stay. As her eyes moved vividly in the short moment of desperation, she noticed that Marcus Lucius started to bleed. Automatically, she stepped forward and took the material from Marcus Lucius's chest.
-Lay down. - She ordered and enormous strength was noticeable in her voice.
He didn't react. He defended his position: he wanted to know what happened.
-If you tell me... - He was weak, but he didn't intend to give up. He could fight for his wish up to the deadly end. Julia noticed it and reacted appropriately.
-I will, if you lay down first. - She was next to him and bowed over his body. She didn't argue, she offered a compromise. She analysed the disaster he caused to himself. The wound bleed increasingly. She put her hand on his chest and looked Marcus Lucius into the eyes.
-You lay down, I'll tell you what you want to know.
He calmed down quickly and let her push his body down onto the bed. He followed her moves and let her pull her hand towards his chest. It was extremely painful, but he didn't lose his senses. He observed how calm she acted. Earlier, she made a chaotic, insecure impression, but in the moment of stress and risk, she didn't let herself get worked up in any way. He watched as attentively as possible how she took a clean piece of material and put it into a strange substance that smelt totally unpleasant. Then, she rubbed something into his chest and he thought there was a fire set to it. His heart almost jumped out of the body. His forehead was wet with sweat and his arms and legs started to tremble. He didn't feel good, but he kept focussing at Julia. Her face was calm, in contrast to his condition.
-Hush, hush, and breathe deeply. - She whispered and washed his sweat away from his forehead.
Her voice calmed him down. It was easier to manage the pain when he was focussed on Julia. He didn't follow her moves, but he stared at her eyes. They were monitoring certain parts of his body. Apparently, she tried to determine how bad were the injuries caused by his latest action. She smiled when she saw that other wounds stayed partially closed. It was a nice, satisfying smile. Still, she wasn't happy about the state of injury on his chest. She wasn't a doctor and was not able to treat him properly. All she knew about treating wounds, she learned from Octavian. She repeated everything he showed her and hoped that her actions were appropriate. She washed away the sweat from Marcus Lucius's chest and head. He was visibly grateful for it. After some minutes of fast, careful actions, Marcus Lucius noticed that her speed started to decrease. No further moves were needed to stabilise his condition. She was relieved, when the bleeding stopped. Marcus Lucius saw it in her eyes. She didn't respond to his gaze. Her right hand was lying on his chest and kept pressuring a piece of wool material against it. Her eyes were focussed on his chest. Her breath was regular. She spread the kind of coolness he needed. In this moment Marcus Lucius stretched his arm and touched her fingers. She got nervous for a moment and she wanted to take her fingers back, but his grasp was heavy. For some seconds, he looked her in the eyes and she returned the look. Something in his look forced her not to yield. Marcus Lucius's look wasn't clear. He was half-dreamy he called her with the name of his dead wife.
-Decima... - He whispered and his grasp became stronger.
She wasn't sure how Marcus Lucius felt right in that moment. He was excited, but dashed. Julia assumed that he loved his wife, because he obviously missed her. Julia noticed the longing note in his tone when he called her with Decima's name. Julia's didn’t crave for Maxentius. She wasn't able to pretend being down after his death. Therefore, it was hard to imagine for her what Marcus Lucius felt.
Julia played along and let the wounded man dream as long as his vision involved just holding her hand. It was a pleasant, nice gesture of him and Julia esteemed it. Up to that moment, she didn’t have many occasions to perceive a manly touch. Marcus Lucius's skin was rough, compared to the wrinkled, dry skin of Maxentius, but she liked it. Her father's skin was old and wrinkled, too, but it wasn't disgusting to touch. Maybe she was just negative-minded towards Maxentius, because he had hurt her so often in a short period of time. They were married for a half a year and he had already managed to make her hate him to the bones. He had raped her and used her body violently. She wasn't able to oppose, because she was weaker and she felt obligated to her father's will. If Julius Fabius decided to give her away, Maxentius could possess her the way he wanted, because it was his right. Julia was raised to be supportive to the head of the family. Her father was an influential, complicated person always striving to achieve his targeted goals and he wasn’t used to hearing any word of resistance. Maxentius seemed to be similar and therefore, Julia started rather thinking about killing herself than to oppose directly. When Maxentius was killed, she felt extremely relieved in the first moment. Relief was stronger than uncertainty. She didn't think about the consequences of the attack, this only hit while sitting in the wagon during the further journey, and she started worrying about her future. Up to the attack of the Barbarian horde, she was travelling with her husband to Britannia. Maxentius was supposed to take command there. Julia wasn't informed why, but she assumed that her marriage definitely played a role in Maxentius's new position. She was a playing card in the hands of both men: her father used her to expand his power
and Maxentius confirmed his own importance with the surname of the Fabii family. Her family held considerable power, almost total power, for much of the early Republic until the defeat at Veii. Even after that time, with her family so depleted, the sole survivors carried awesome auctoritas due just to their illustrious name. Maxentius became a part of this family. Julia was screwed. She felt like a prisoner until she got a short moment of freedom, when Maxentius was killed in the ambush. She reminded how his head turned red, how blood poured from his head. She noticed unknown people behind his back. They screamed and moved fast. She couldn't hear them though. It was strange to see the whole danger coming up to her and not being able to resist. She wasn’t even scared. She wasn't afraid of losing her life. In this moment, she saw Maxentius dying and trying to touch her for the last time, she stepped back and watched how he gazed at her with anger. The more furious he was, the calmer she became. She even smiled or at least, she reminded to contemplate whether a smile would be appropriate in these circumstances.
While she stood without any movement, she noticed how soldiers and slaves from the other two wagons fought against the barbarians. She heard swords hit each other, causing such an iron-like, unpleasant sound. She heard screams supposed to scare the enemy or to give courage to the fighting people. She saw movements of the surrounding and she wondered why she wasn't scared anymore. She felt totally nothing except complete indifference. A great question mark filled her mind. She wondered why she didn't have any power to struggle or why she was not afraid of men attacking her. While she analysed her strange perception, she saw a man on a horse coming into the fight. It was Marcus Lucius. At that time, she didn’t have a clue who he was. She admired the lonely rider in the red tunica betraying his affiliation to Roman army. He looked dazzled and tired, his clothes were dirty, but the closer he came, the more professional he looked. The movements of his sword were precise, accurate and faster than Julia’s eyes could follow. Every barbarian touched by Marcus Lucius's sword fell to the ground with a scary grimace on the face. Marcus Lucius didn't wear any armour. He didn't notice the cuts he collected or he didn't permit himself to feel the wounds. Julia reminded how he had looked at her. There was something in his eyes that fascinated her. It was just a very short moment, when their eyes met, but from this moment on, Julia felt like a normal person again. Her life became valuable to her, again. She got scared by the fight around her and screamed instinctively once or even twice. She wanted to run away, but the soldiers duelled with barbarians on her escape route and it was impossible to flee from there. She stepped back to the wagon and saw how two barbarians won over a legionnaire and came closer to her. Out of nowhere, Marcus Lucius appeared again and killed them within a few seconds. He stood in front of her and suddenly, he got a strange look in the eyes. He was tired and wounded. He was losing his consciousness while someone yelled his name.
He kept holding his sword, turned back to her and with his last strength, he protected Julia from further, attacking enemies. He started losing his speed and got hurt even worse. Julia empathised with him. She didn't want him to die. He was the one, who tried to protect her, even without knowing her. He had to be a good man. She observed how his arm moved and how a group of further legionnaires finally approached from the direction of Aquincum. Julia recognized Appius, whom she had met during the stay in Aquincum. Maxentius wanted to show off with his new wife and stepped by his old friend, as Maxentius called Appius. They didn't seem to be good friends as Julia noticed during a common dinner. Appius stayed reserved and politically correct. His face expressed nor joy nor unhappiness. Maxentius didn't speak much, either, which wasn’t normal. Usually, Maxentius could talk for hours, which was exhausting, if you had to follow his thoughts.
Julia remembered how Appius yelled Marcus Lucius's name and how fast Appius came to the place where Julia was standing. There was something warm in Appius's tone. He knew the suddenly fallen soldier well. She kept looking at the stranger, who laid on the ground. His bleeding was strong. His eyes were closed. However, he smiled as if he would remind something outstanding. The corners of his lips trembled. Sweat drops appeared on his forehead. Appius bowed over the stranger and tried to talk with him.
The scene from the past reminded her at the latest bleeding she could stop during the present day.
-You... You look sad.
Julia thought she was dreaming, when she heard the whisper of another person's dry throat. She trembled from the sudden shock. She didn't expect Marcus Lucius to talk to her. He was looking at her and she caught his gaze. She wasn't sure whether he knew who she was. He called his wife's name sometimes when he was starring at her. It confused her. At first, she continued saying him, she is not Decima. She introduced herself every time he spoke to her with a smile. Then, after a couple of days, she gave up and ignored it. Octavian said that as long as Marcus Lucius was deeply wounded and hallucinated, it was possible that he mixed up names, people, occurrences. Octavian also said that Marcus Lucius could lose his memories and that it was possible that they were coming back with time. Now, Julia wondered why Marcus Lucius didn't call her Decima again. He didn't use any name. He simply gave a statement.
-How are you doing? - She asked shy and helped him to drink water.
He seemed to thank her with his look in the eyes. There was a kind of dashed fire that increased when he communicated with her. Preferably, she would have stepped back, when he was talking to her. However, he kept holding her hand for hours and every time she tried to take it back, his grasp became stronger. He didn't want to let her go. She didn't feel uncomfortable enough to go away, so she kept sitting next to him and let him hold her fingers. It made him calmer. It was important to her. She liked him, when he slept like a baby and breathed regularly. When he was calm, she could relax, too. She hasn’t felt so good since she left her home in her father's villa in Naples. It was months ago. For more than a half a year, she was on the road. She wanted to rest somewhere.
She missed the places where she used to spend time. She loved to stay hidden in the part of the garden she called “her secret empire” and spent there any free minute. It was her ultimate getaway spot. She was her father’s only daughter. She had three brothers, who served in the army. Until Maxentius came, nobody was interested in what she did. She could stay in the garden for hours. She avoided any pressure by her mother and got out of the way of any requests, orders and further obligations, she didn't like. This worked well up to the day, she had to marry Maxentius. From that moment on, everything changed. Her freedom was gone. She felt robbed and mugged. Every memory hurt and made her nervous. Her pulse raised and her hand started sweating.
-You're not good.
She heard Marcus Lucius speaking for the second time and she noticed, she hadn’t answered his questions and he didn't reply to her question. He didn't say many words in the last two weeks, despite the rare, short moments of getting back his consciousness.
-I'm fine. - She said hastily.
She didn't like the situation. She wanted to hedge and win a comfortable distance. Her voice sounded determined and surprisingly cold. He didn't expect her to talk in such a reserved way. Therefore, he didn't mention her chaotic pulse he felt while holding her hand or the sweat drops that appeared suddenly. Additionally, the years of living within a group of soldiers taught him to keep silence about uneasy topics. He simply knew she didn't want to talk about anything. It was fair enough.
-How are you? - She repeated her question as she tried to bring the conversation round to another point.
-I'm fine. - He answered slowly. He wasn't sure whether she noticed his pain, because he wasn't sure how his face expression looked like. He tried to control himself, mostly he succeeded.
A serious, heavy silence filled the room. It was a strange situation, so both of them stayed concentrated on their own thoughts. They didn't look at each other, but he kept holding her hand. She was able to percept his heartbeat then. She sat down on the floor and had to stretch her arm so that
he could hold her fingers on his chest. She stared at the opposite wall and wished that Marcus Lucius stayed unconscious. She liked to take care of him, but it was easier when he had lost senses. She liked his smell, even though the medicine she got from Octavian stunk. Still, Marcus Lucius smelled desirable. She liked to touch his skin. Secretly she stroked him more than required to clean the wounds or to check his health condition.
Marcus Lucius analysed what he knew about how he get into a wagon with an unknown girl. The last thing he clearly remembered was holding Decima in his arms. Actually, it was just the body of Decima. She was dead. Her throat was cut and the blood managed already to take a stable form. She was long dead when he arrived. The corpse bride laid next to the bed where they used to sleep together, when Marcus Lucius was in town. Her dark blue legs were crossed in a way that would be painful for every normal, healthy human being. Marcus Lucius saw that they were broken. Her nose was red and extremely huge. It was broken as well. Her mouth was full of congealed blood. It looked so artificial and improbable that he was almost sure it couldn't be true. The lines of rigid blood marked the way of her suffering. Probably, she was slapped in the face at first, then, her legs were broken and in the end, her throat was cut. Marcus Lucius wanted to hope that she didn't suffer for long, but it wasn't so obvious. He wanted to know why she was mistreated and why it all happened. He held her cold, stark body and he was extremely upset and increasingly furious. He could kill the whole world if he wouldn't keep holding Decima's body in his arms.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed in the apartment. On Decima's wish, they owned an apartment in a multi story apartment block called insulae that catered to a wide range of residential situations. Decima didn't feel well in the country villa of Marcus Lucius's mother located in the hills outside of the city that never slept. Decima wanted to stay in Rome, in the proud, noble city, where even the buildings were solely intended for large scale accommodation with several floors in height and showed the dignity and grace of
Vengeance & Remission (Introduction) Page 4
