didn't completely cover his own scent. Julia liked it and she enjoyed the rare moments, when she collected enough courage to sniff, always anxious that Marcus Lucius could wake up any moment. Maxentius didn't smell good. He stunk like sweat and an undefined icky thing. It wasn't a pleasure to bide long next to him.
Sometimes she could even gather enough courage to stroke Marcus Lucius's neck and a part of his shoulder. She did it briefly, almost non-perceptively. His skin was pleasant, even when rough and full of small scratches. He was well trained and it was impressive. These arms she barely touched, protected her during the ambush. These fingers held the heavy sword partially covered with blood and this hand moved the weapon perfectly, magically, beautifully. She liked him being asleep or unconscious.
The whole daily routine was quite predictable. Julia stayed at Marcus Lucius's side and tried to minimize the time outside the wagon, even though the space there was limited and could make you claustrophobic after over a week spent in there. Still, Julia liked familiar spaces, rooms, surroundings. She used to stay at her father's home for almost whole life. Then, she had to travel with Maxentius and being on the road with him was horrible to her. The wagon was like a trap to her, a cage, a limited space, where she wasn't able to breathe. She hated it. Now, she felt free here. It was the same wagon with the same limited space, but she felt good. She felt safe. She wished to keep this state for eternity. She knew it was impossible, but still, she savoured the nice illusion.
Octavian came into the wagon twice a day: shortly after the legionnaires woke up and again after the stretch of way for the day was finished. He didn't speak, he simply looked around, checked Marcus Lucius's condition and left the wagon. His brief visits marked the beginning and the end of the day. He was on time and reliable like the sunrise or a Swiss watch.
Until noon, Julia washed Marcus Lucius and rubbed the special mixtures in his body. She wasn't able to define the improvements of Marcus Lucius's health condition from day to day, but looking at him every now and then made her assume that he was better with every minute. She was happy about it. It meant she did a good job. Besides, the burned part looked better and better, so it meant that Octavian's action was right, too. She wasn't ready to apologize for all the unspoken insults she addressed at him during the last days.
In the late afternoon, Julia used to have a nap, because she wasn't able to sleep during the nights. She sat on the floor of the wagon, next to the bed, where Marcus Lucius was sleeping, with her head on her knees. From there, she was able to look out through the small window of the wagon and focused on the shadows of the nature outside. While she momentarily nodded off, her head kept falling to her right shoulder. When her legs fell more to the ground and she lost her balance, she woke up.
She didn’t drink enough water and almost didn't eat anything at all. She was losing weight, but it didn't catch anyone's attention, because almost nobody saw her. She used to have a normal body, neither slim, nor fat. Now, her arms were more slender and her bones were visible beneath the skin.
When they arrived at Gesoriacum (also Bononia), a Roman port city on the English Channel important for Classis Britannica, where Caligula stayed over, before he travelled to the island, Julia saw a light house built based on directions of Caligula. Julia had already seen some port cities in her life, but she was always impressed by the great architecture and technical progress of the Romans.
When Octavian stepped into the wagon, Julia retreated to the furthest corner as she usually did. He was convinced that she was scared of him and he didn't intend to hurt her at all. He noticed some bruises on her arms that she got after he pushed her away twice, and he was ashamed of it. He didn't apologize, because he simply couldn't find suitable words. However, Julia wasn't scared, but rather ashamed that she wasn't able to say Octavian how sorry she was for her silly resistance.
This time, there was no routine in Octavian's acting. He stayed in the middle of the wagon watching Marcus Lucius sleep.
-We'll go to the ship directly. - He said silently.
-A ship? - She seemed to be worried.
-Yes, it's the fastest way to get to Eboracum. - Octavian confirmed and started at her curiously. He wondered what scared her more: he or the suggested means of transport. - If we would stay here, on the land, we would have to stay in the camp over night. The probability that we could be demasked is higher here. On the ship, you'll get a cabin and have your privacy. Ina few minutes, my men will come here and you'll get a litter carried by local slaves. We'll put Marcus Lucius on it and you'll get the second litter.
Octavian's had a determined look, but not as cold as usually. Julia wondered what happened to him in the last days.
-I don't need a special litter. I'll go next to him.
Octavian wasn't happy about it, but he didn't intend to argue with her. He nodded once and stepped closer to Marcus Lucius. Within seconds, he woke the wounded man up and described the situation to him. Marcus Lucius showed his understanding of the plan.
-Are you doing better? - Octavian asked quietly, almost too quiet for Julia to hear.
Marcus Lucius nodded slightly. There was a special code between the two of them. Maybe it was due to the fact that they both learned under the command of Appius. Maybe it was just a sign of their special predisposition to understand each other.
Julia stood just a few steps away and didn't understand the communication between them. She waited for the litter and then, as it was brought, she observed how Octavian helped to lift Marcus Lucius and shift him on the litter. Then he came to Julia and took her widest ribbon away. She wondered whether she should start struggling or let Octavian do what he wanted to do. As he went away with the ribbon, she was confused. She wanted an explanation, and got it in form of his action. Octavian put the ribbon on Marcus Lucius's head and covered his face with it. The material was transparent enough to let him breath, but it didn't allow strangers and uninitiated people recognise the face. Even though the litter had a kind of baldachin protecting Marcus Lucius from the unknown witnesses, Octavian wanted to double the protection. It wasn't just about the one wounded man, but about possible collateral damages involving many people, who were important to Octavian.
He, personally, accompanied the litter to the ship and noticed how insecure Julia’s steps became the closer she came to the water. It was possible that nobody else noticed her tentativeness, but Octavian saw the girl already a couple of times in different situations and was able to judge whether she felt good or not while doing something. Even if he was just few meters away from her, he was able to feel her tension.
Therefore, he wondered what happened next. As Julia's fragility increased and her legs became shaky just some centimetres in front of the wooden, provisory bridge between the ship and the land, a hand came out of the material curtain of the litter's baldachin. The strong, determined fingers grasped Julia's dainty hand. Marcus Lucius hold her carefully, but decisively. She wasn't able to see his face, she wasn't able to speak with him, but they communicated in the most secret way every human being could use: it was intuition and empathy. Or, you could say it was Marcus Lucius’s highly developed, sharp sense of observation.
Julia didn't oppose and she didn't change her mimic. However, Octavian saw a sign of relief in her eyes. She looked anxiously around every now and then, but her step became steadier and less shaky. She held Marcus Lucius's hand as strong as she could. It was hard for her to let lose when Marcus Lucius had to be brought to the cabin and lifted onto the bed there. She was unsteady and waggly again, leaning on the wooden walls of the ship, thinking about every step. The ship wasn't sinking. It almost didn't move, but she acted as if the end of the world would come any moment.
Octavian made sure that Marcus Lucius laid safely in the bed and wasn't recognized by anybody, then he sent away all guards and slaves from the room. They passed Julia on the stairs and greeted her for goodbye. She didn't answer and kept grasping on any kind of stable surface. She trembled and was convinced she would vomit imme
diately. As the last person passing by, Julia saw Octavian. He didn't pass her, but stretched his hand out to her. It was a peaceful offer, but Julia didn't easily accept it.
-I don't need your help. - She sounded proud.
-You do. Come along. - He answered in his typical cold way.
She refused again. He remembered that he had mostly pushed her away or ignored her, so she had a good reason not to accept his offer, but she was indeed in need. As neither his statement nor a kind of order helped, he added what Marcus Lucius told him in the cabin just a moment ago:
-It's Marcus Lucius's will.
It was like 'open, O sesame', a magical phrase in the story of "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves" from One Thousand and One Nights. Julia stood frozen for a moment showing disbelief, then, she stretched out the hand and allowed Octavian to help her. His hand was rough as Marcus Lucius's. Surprisingly enough for Julia, Octavian was warm and pleasant to touch. She wondered when the resources of ice melted and changed into a pleasant surface.
Octavian
Vengeance & Remission (Introduction) Page 10
