The Perfect Match Chapter 3: Part 3, a gladiator fanfic

"He is here."

Abruptly, Hildegarde's tears ceased. She dabbed them dry with the edge of her skirt, and steeled herself to step out into the night. She was too ashamed to look back at Match. She regretted the childish display of her emotions, but found that she cold not control them. The soldier, HER soldier, was with her a last and she was reminded, yet again that they could never be together.

Moisture was still drying on the girl's cheeks when she stepped outside. As her mother had stated Godeoc was waiting there. In spite of her sadness, she had to smile at his appearance. He seemed almost overly scrubbed his fair skin shining pink in the moonlight. He smiled at her as nervously as a young boy, though he already had sons nearly Hildegarde's age, and a daughter who had borne a child herself.

"You look very pretty." He said softly, and then stared down at her feet.

Hildegarde had heard stories of Godeoc's prowess as a warrior, but she found the tales hard to believe when he acted as he often did in her presence. Since the day that she had healed his youngest son of a knife wound sustained in battle, he had behaved as if he were in awe of her. He treated her very gently and politely. He would be the perfect husband if only there were a spark.

There wasn't. Trying to feign excitement for the evening's adventure, Hildegarde tore her thoughts once more away from the Roman and concentrated on the path ahead.

He was leading her to a rock by the river where they often sat to talk and gaze upon the stars. She assumed that Godeoc was trying to be romantic-more than one member of the tribe had remarked with astonishment at the fact that he would waste time on such niceties- and especially with a girl like Hildegarde but he was undeterred. As they headed silently toward their destination, the young German scanned her memory for something interesting to say that would not reveal the presence of Match.

"I think I heard that your daughter is pregnant again." She said as they reached the rock.

Godeoc smiles shyly. "Yes. She is young but very strong. The Gods will bless her with another son before the frost comes again next fall."

Hildegarde nodded. "And I hear that you have purchased a new horse as well."

"Yes....from another village. I needed a workhorse to extend my fields..."

Silence once more.

Hildegarde sighed, completely at a loss about what to speak of next. She swung her legs over the stone cliff and dangled them over the river while looking upwards toward the stars. How she wished that she were here with Match! Things would be so different. She would be lost in his arms by now, their bodies pressed close....

The effects of her daydream must have shown on her face, because when she opened her eyes, Godeoc was staring at her strangely.

"Hildegarde?" He whispered.

"Yes?" She tilted her head in a questioning manner as if to say "What is it?" However, her message was misinterpreted. before she knew what was happening, Godeoc's lips were upon hers, pressing gently against her mouth.

Hildegarde was too surprised to react immediately, but as she came to her senses, she wrenched away.

"Hildegarde!" Godeoc's voice was hurt and confused as she jumped to her feet, biting her lip to keep her tears at bay. "Hildegarde, I'm sorry..." he stammered. "I thought...since we....I"

"I am sorry." She said sincerely. Now that she had time to think, she realized that the gesture had been meant tenderly and in the reasonable expectation that it would be welcome. "Godeoc, I promised you an answer to your proposal tonight."

He looked at her hopefully, his soft brown eyes nervous and deep.

She took a breath. "I'm sorry, but I must say 'no'"

"But you....your mother." To his credit, Godeoc bit back the words that he was going to say. There was no point telling her that such an offer might not be made again- that there would be no one to feed her family when the snows were deep, and no children to care for her when she was old. Hildegarde noted his forbearance and realized, with a pang, that the irrationality of her choice must make the rejection all the harder to bear.

"It isn't you..." She whispered, wanting desperately to ease his pain. He had been very kind to her, and deserved much better than what he had gotten.

"there is simply no....passion between us." She blushed at her words, but forced herself to meet his eyes to see that he understood.

"No passion for *you*" he corrected.

Hildegade gasped. Until that moment, she had never suspected that his interest was anything more than a desire for mutual benefit. Was he in love with her? That revelation made her guilt seem deeper. "It isn't just that" she continued quickly. "You have a very honorable family. How would they feel if you....tainted yourself with an alliance to me?"

"They accept my word." he said sternly. "I am the father in my house."

She nodded, noting that she was getting no where with her arguments. "Thank you, Godeoc." she leaned forward to kiss him again. Rather than a romantic gesture, the caress was a chaste peck on the cheek. "I appreciate that you have been kind, and I thank you for allowing me to commit the folly of listening to my heart."

"You are young." He said sadly.

"Yes." She nodded, knowing that he was right. If she had lived to see as many summers as the warrior, she would understand that practicalities often outweighed the longing of a heart, but she would not relent.

"I must go home. My mother will be waiting."

"I will walk you."

"No. That isn't necessary."

Hildegarde offered the man a tired smile, and then slipped away, relieved that the interview was over. She would still see Godeoc from time to time- her village was very small, and everyone who needed a healer was bound to come to her hut- but she knew that they could be civil. She hoped that her mother would take the news as easily as the prospective groom.

"Well?"

Hildegarde had hoped, irrationally, that her mother would be asleep, but her luck did not appear. The woman was waiting on the stoop of the house.

"Where is Match?" Hildegarde asked, ignoring her mother's question.

"Inside, sleeping....." she growled in frustration. "Where is Godeoc, what did you say?"

Hildegarde sighed and looked away. "I said..." she took a deep breath. "I said 'no'."

"No?" Rodelind spoke the word in disbelief, and then fell silent as though she were in shock. Hildegarde watched anger build in her mother's face like clouds gathering for a storm.

"NO? Hildegade, HOW COULD YOU?" Angry tears began almost immediately at the corner's of Rodelind's eyes, and the disappointment in her expression the impotent horror that her daughter would throw so much away was like a slap in the face to the girl.

"Mother, please understand...." Hildegarde began, feeling like crying herself. "I do not love him..."

"Love." Rodelind spat the word as though it were a curse. "Surely you have learned from me where love will take you. I married for love, and where did it get me?" She gestured wildly toward the hut, her motions accenting the distance between the little shelter and the cozy bundle of huts in the village proper. "Love got me a husband who is somewhere South, sleeping in a soft bed with a foreign mistress. Does he even think of me, Hildegarde? Does he think of you? Is love worth such a risk?"

Hildegarde stared mutely at her feet. She had never heard her mother speak of her father in this way. She had often wondered what had become of the man, but she had never considered, until this moment, that her mother would wonder as well. They had hated her father for so long that she had forgotten that things had been different once- That her parents had been in love, and that her mother had burned for the man as hotly as Hildegarde ached for Match even now.

"I am sorry." the girl whispered.

"Sorry? sorry doesn't feed us? Sorry doesn't bring us back to the tribe."

She took a breath, and then began the argument that Godeoc had been too kind to make. "Do you honestly believe that you will have another offer? You are waiting for love, but do you have real hopes that it will ever arrive?"

"Yes!" Hildegarde's voice reverberated with conviction. "I have found it already."

"Already?"

Hildegarde clinched her teeth. She had said too much, but it was too late to stop now.

"I love Match."

"The Roman?" Rodelind recoiled in horror. "Hildegarde! He's barely even human."

"That isn't true." anger was replacing the fear in the younger woman's voice. "He is everything that I have wanted...it is fate that we are together."

"He's a monster.."

"No....true, some of his kind are....cruel, but he is kind. Oh, mother, if you had seen him as I have..."

"Seen him?"

"Yes, from the forest. He is so gentle and kind....."

"From the forest...Hildegarde, you've WATCHED him?" The disgust in Rodelind's voice was thinly veiled. She did not understand her daughter's behavior.

"Mother, I love him."

"Love." the older woman bit her lip. "You don't even know what it means."

"Healer?" Both women turned to see a frightened girl at the edge of the yard. She was staring at them wild-eyed, as if afraid to come forward.

"Healer?"

"Coming." Rodelind gave her daughter a look that said "We shall finish this later" and then went to answer the summons. The girl had come from the chieftains house in the center of the village. His wife was in labor but her progress had stalled. Stepping into the house for her medicine chest, Rodelind quickly sprinted away.

"I love him..." Match blinked in the darkness, barely able to believe his ears. For a long time, the angry voices of the two women had been drifting into the little shelter, keeping him from sleep. He realized after a moment that the women were speaking of him, and strained his ears to hear them better.

"I love him." Hildegarde had said. His heart was beating with excitement at the very thought. He had suspected, from his first memory that they were somehow bound together, at last, he knew why.

Match heard footsteps entering the hut and very still in the darkness until he discovered who it was. There was the sound of shuffling feet, and then of a shawl being hung on one of the pegs by the door.

"Hildegarde?" He called softly.

There was a moment os surprised silence. "Yes?"

Match sat up, squinting through the darkness to make out her face.

"Is your mother...? "

"She isn't here. The chieftain's wife is having a baby."

"Oh."

Match pushed his coverings away. His torso was bare, the smooth, muscular planes of his chest shining in the moonlight.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"You were crying earlier."

"I am better now."

"Did Godeoc go away?" Hildegarde's mother had explained the situation earlier. He knew that the girl was expected to marry the older man who had called after dinner. He suspected, from what he had overheard, that the meeting had not gone to plan.

"He is gone."

"Are you unhappy?"

"No."

Match moved toward Hildegarde in the darkness. She watched him very carefully.

"Why did you tell him no?"

"I don't love him."

"Is marriage about love?"

"I wish that it would be." She twisted her hands at her sides, dreading the question that she somehow knew would come next.

"Do you love someone else?"

She wanted to lie, but it was impossible. The Roman was looking at her with such tenderness....why should she bother to deny the truth. Her mother was right. He would be gone soon, only a memory, why leave open the possibility that she could torture herself with memories of what might have been? "Yes."

She answered boldly. "I'm in love with you."

After a hour spent exploring the wood along the road, Quintus was becoming very nervous: the sundown had already begun and there was no trace of Antonia. Soon it would be so dark that his searching would become useless. But how could return to the camp without finding the woman? He had no doubt Caesar would be furious with the men who had let her go out without noticing her, but he hoped to lessen the monarch's ire by showing him his niece was

returned in good health. Quintus also hoped Marcus Aurelius would bestow a nice punishment on the inconsiderate woman. The legatus himself had prepared a harsh indictment to release the moment that he saw her-.

But first he had to find Antonia.

He was about to abandon hope when his horses whinnied loudly.

"Shhh, be quiet," Quintus hissed. His stallion was still young and untrained to battle. He had not learned to stay silent, so as to avoid revealing hisposition to the enemy. Before the soldier could do anything the horse whinnied again but this time another whinny echoed from the thick of the forest and Quintus eyes darted in its direction. It was clear another horse was close by…but who did it belong to? Antonia or a barbarian?

The legatus decided to take a chance and led his horse through the trees,

shouting, "Antonia, is that you? Antonia!!!!"

Antonia heard someone calling for her and with a sigh of relief shouted back, "I am here! I am here!"

She heard the voice calling her name again and she began to walk in its direction, hoping to meet her rescuer.

When Quintus' and Antonia's paths finally met, the young woman's relieved expression disappeared. She recognized the Legatus at the first glance and his furious face chilled her.

Quintus let himself feel only the slightest bout of relief before attacking her with all his pent up anger and frustration. Without even greeting her, he shouted, "What do you have in your head?!? Sawdust? Don't you know how dangerous it is for a woman -- for anyone to be out here alone? Why couldn't you stay in your tent and sew like a normal woman?!?" His face was red with anger and he was not trying to control it.

His last remark made Antonia forget the justice of his accusations and she shouted back, "I only wanted to take a ride! I was not doing anything wrong! --And I can mind myself!"

"Oh, of course! But ,if that is true,what were you doing so far from the road? Were you picking flowers? No my lady, you were totally, completely LOST!"

"That's not true!" Antonia cried, lying to defend her wounded pride, "I was not lost!"

"No?" Quintus quirked an eyebrow and added with a matter-of-fact tone, "So you will be able to find your way if I turn my horse and gallop away...." And he began to do just that, reining his stallion as if preparing to leave her.

"WAIT!" Antonia was not able to cover the fear in her voice. Her pride be

damned, she lowered her head and admitted, "You are right, Quintus, I am lost. Please don't leave me here alone."

Quintus grunted, and for just a second his stern expression softened. But when he spoke again his tone was still hard. "Now follow me closely, I must take you back to the camp. And let's hope the moon gives us enough light to see the road."

Antonia nodded and in few moments they began their trek back to the castrum.

Or at least they tried to do so.

Quintus' worst fears became reality when he realized that, in the dark, he could not find the road. In the dark forest there were too many trees that looked the same and too many little paths among which he could choose. It was like a giant labyrinth and unlike the Greek hero Theseus - the killer of the Minotaur - he had no Arianne's yarn to led him out of it.

Sighing with frustration and hating himself for having to do so, he stopped his horse and said, "I can't find the road in this darkness. We will have to wait for dawn." His tone was devoid of emotion, but Antonia knew how much it had cost to him to say those words. She was not the only one with a great pride.

Half-expecting a sarcastic remark, Quintus was surprised to hear her simply say, "All right, want you want to do?"

"I think we should find shelter for the night. Back on the trail we've been following, I noticed a rock formation...I seem to remember it from one of my earlier explorations looking for Maximus. If I am not mistaken, it has some kind of cavern where we could stay and light a fire. At the very least, the rock will provide some protection from the wind if we stay against it."

Antonia nodded, approving his plan-Not that she had any other choice....

Without saying more, they turned they horses and retraced their steps.

A few minutes later, the large shape of the rock became visible in the

Pale, silvery moonlight. Quintus stopped his horse and dismounted, an action readily imitated by Antonia. They tied the animals to two strong trees -- Quintus checked the woman's work, while Antonia bit back an irritated remark -- and then he explored the rock with his hands. As the legatus had remembered, there was a little cavern, cramped but large enough for the both of to pie down protected from the elements.

"Go inside," he ordered the emperor's niece, before returning to the horses and rummaging in their saddle-bags. As he had hoped, he found some strips of dry meat and biscuits, plus the water mixed with wine he had in his goat-skin. It would be enough to feed them for that night. Putting the food back into the leather bag that he threw other his shoulder, he knelt to the ground and began to search for some dry leaves and wood to start a fire. It was not an easy task, considering the recent, heavy rains, but the rock had protected some portion of ground from the water and he was able to find what he needed.

Match stared at her for an instant, and she barely breathed, feeling, irrationally, that her future in some way hung on his response. She had sent Godeoc away, had angered her mother, all for this instant: the moment of truth.

Match said nothing. He closed his eyes slightly and made a move to turn away. Hildegarde felt a deep pain begin within her chest. He was going to reject her!--

And then he spoke softly.

"I don't know if I love you or not....." He looked up at her, and the pain melted away in the warmth of his soft blue eyes. "I don't remember."

Hildegarde took in a shuddering breath. She wanted to tell him that he did love her- to make up a history that they had never shared, but she could not bring herself to enlarge the lie, and so she merely took his hand and squeezed it. "Perhaps we can make new memories..." She whispered."

Another pause.

There was an uncertainty in his eyes that made her tremble, and her nerves began to return again before he spoke. "I don't know if I am free to love you." He said plainly. "I have forgotten my past, and you did not know me."

Hildegarde's expression neither confirmed nor denied the supposition.

"I could be married. I could have children....sons...."

This fear was, at least, valid. The girl's face tightened as she considered, for the first time, that what he was saying could be very true. She had no way of knowing whether he had a family or not. The Romans were very far from their homes, and the lovely lady that she had seen descending from the carriage earlier in the week was the exception, rather than the rule. Most women in the camp were ragged camp followers, or barbarians like herself who had worked as servants or slaves. What if he were right?

But he couldn't be! Hildegarde's heart refused to accept the possibility. Wasn't it clear that they were meant to be together? That the Gods had drawn him into battle for the very purpose that he would hit his head on the stone and finally enter her world. Whatever he had in Rome could be replaced. She would keep him safe, make him happy.....

"I watched you." She admitted softly.

"Watched me?" He blinked.

"Before....before you fell. That is how I found you....you were not with a woman then." It was not a lie, but not the truth either. She looked to his face, seeking the effect of her words.

Match licked his lips, and then closed his eyes as the memory returned again. She had watched him. Yes...he remembered. The face, staring at him from the woods....the animal- was it the beast that he had been hunting?...and a loneliness....a longing....

With a start, his eyes flashed open. The pieces fell suddenly into place. It was Hildegarde that he had wanted. Hildegarde who had saved his life.....

He did not know the words to say. Strange syllables that he did not understand wanted to come to his lips....amata... what did it mean? Since he could not conjure a verbal shape for his revelation, he gave it physical form instead. In one smooth movement he slid his arm around Hildegarde's back and crushed her to his chest.

She was so warm! So yielding!- and almost frighted as well. Her eyelids were half-closed, shadowing the dusky irises in a cloud of soft lashes. Her skin was flushed, her lips slightly parted...Without waiting for permission, he leaned forward and claimed her lips with his own. His movements were firm, and unrestrained. His tongue slid softly around the rim of her mouth, and then along her teeth, coaxing her to open to him.

Hildegarde felt as though she were being lifted into the sky. So many sensations that she had never felt converged on her at once that they seemed to overload her brain, leaving her with only a distant, heady feeling of floating detached from reality. He was everything that she had thought he would be. Strong, gentle, passionate....it was several moments before she regained her senses enough to reciprocate, but when she did, her actions were bestowed, if inexpertly, with a fire to match his own.

"Match..." she murmured against his ear.

He answered with a languorous caress along her back and then, reluctantly, let her go.

"Your mother will be home soon." He said, self-consciously nodding toward the door.

Hildegarde sighed in agreement.

"We should rest." he whispered.

The girl nodded again, and then slid to her place on the floor. Match lay down beside her, facing her in the night. He was near enough to touch her, and he leaned forward to touch her face.

"Tell me about your life." He whispered.

"Everything?" Hildegarde barely knew where to begin.

"Everything." he whispered tenderly, punctuating the remark with a gently stroking of her hair.

Still trembling, Hildegarde began to speak.....

In the cavern the atmosphere was becoming oppressive. Silence fell like a curtain of lead between its two occupants. Quintus said nothing, merely chewing the dried meat with slow, meticoulous movements, his eyes fixed on the woman sitting in front of him.

In the firelight her attire had been revealed at last, and the legatus finally understood how the girl had been able to slip unnoticed past the sentries. Even if he would never tell her so for all the gold on Earth, Quintus was impressed by Antonia's cleverness- not to mention the fact that, for some mysterious reason, she was unsettlingly attractive dressed in a military uniform. Quintus scowled at the thought, an action which did not escape his companion.

Antonia finished her meal, wiped her hands on her tunica and then, crossing her arms on her chest asked boldly, "Well, are you going to say something? Or do you want to spend the rest of the evening chewing and glaring at me?"

Quintus swallowed and then replied, "What am I going to do, or what do I want to do?"

"Both."

" I am going to sit quietly, try to get some sleep, and conserve my energy to bring us home in the morning. I would like to teach you a lesson- to teach you to obey something other than your own impulsive desires." His tone was hard, a sure sign he was still furious with her.

Antonia should have stayed silent but the comfort of the food in her stomach and the warmth of the fire, brought her temper back to the surface, "Oh yes? And how would you propose to do that?" She tried to stay cool, and appear disinterested, but failed miserably.

"I would like to turn you over my knee and give you such a spanking that you won't be able to sit on a chair- much less steal another horse - for at least a week."

"And why don't you do it?" Antonia tempted him, leaning forward, her light eyes glittering in challenge.

"Don't tempt me Lady, my patience is very thin." Quintus' voice was devoid of any mirth. He was deadly serious but Antonia could not stop now, it was too exciting, "You would not dare do it- not to the Emperor's niece!" She taunted leaning against the cavern wall with an assured smirk.

More rapidly she could have expected, Quintus was on his feet and then upon her, grabbing her roughly by the arms and wrestling her to his side, "I wouldn't be so sure." he hissed, his face a few inches from hers.

"Let me go!" Antonia yelped. She had played with fire and now she could see that she was about to be burned.

"You should have thought about it before provoking me." Quintus snapped, maintaining his threatening facade. He had no intention of hurting her, he only wanted to frighten the girl a little, to make her pay for all his worry, but having her so near him, her fast, warm breath caressing his cheek and her ample breasts pressed against his chest, caused an effect he had not anticipated. Barely conscious of his own movements, he dragged her body more tightly against his own, and then he kissed her. It was a brutal, punishing kiss but to his surprise Antonia, after a second of paralyzed stupor, did not rebel against it. She responded with an ardor matching his own. When they finally separated, they were both breathing raggedly, their eyes wild with rage....and another emotion neither of them was cared to acknowledge.

Quintus released the emperor's niece as if she was burning and she jumped away. Without exchanging a single word, they retreated in their respective places, unwilling and unable to meet each other's eyes.

The rest of the evening was spent in silence, while Quintus and Antonia lost themselves in their thoughts. Not surprisily the centered on the same subject- THE KISS.

Quintus could scarcely believe what he had done. When he had taken Antonia in his arms he had only planned to call her bluff, but then his body had taken control of his mind. Why had he done it? To embarass her? He was not that kind of man. Then why? Because he was relieved that he had finally found her? Yes, that was a good explanation......but was it the true one?

On the other side of the cavern, Antonia's thoughts were just as confused as Quintus'. I kissed him. she continued to repeat in her mind. Why did I do it? She thought she had done it to show the legatus that she was not a woman to be dominated- but, if it was the only reason, why she had liked it so much? Antonia closed her eyes and once more she felt the feel of his lips on her own. Oh no, I can't go on like this! I was only a kiss, for Gods' sake! Forget it and go to sleep, tomorrow will be a long day. Feeling calm again -- being rested to face her irate uncle was a powerful incentive -- Antonia lay down on the ground, turned her back to Quintus, and covered herself with her cloak. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, to concentrate herself on the noises made by the fire. Very slowly she felt herself fall asleep, won by physical and emotional fatigue.

Quintus awaited for Antonia's breaths to became deep and regular and then slowly got up, approaching her and sitting down again. He knew the night was going to be cold and 'her' side of the cavern was more protected by the wind which blew outside. However, not wanting to provoke another confrontation, he had stayed silent and unmoving till she had fallen asleep. Once he was settled near her, he pulled his cape around his shoulder and fell asleep.

Quintus woke up in the middle of the night as a wolf howled in the forest. He looked around him and shivered. The fire had almost died during his rest. The air had a sharp chill, and he would not being too surprised to discover it was snowing. His gaze turned to the place were Antonia was lying and he immediately noticed how badly she was trembling, cuddled under her cloak. Something constricted it the soldier's heart. The woman seemed so small and powerless....A sudden, strange need to protect her surged in his heart and, being to tired, he did not questioned its source. He merely acted. He snuggled near Antonia, arranging their bodies in a spooning fashion, with his chest pressed against her back. He arranged his cloak above both of them and then slipped his left arm around her waist. It took some minutes but thanks to the added bodyheat, Antonia's shivering ceased. Quintus smiled slightly in the dark and then let himself fall asleep, feeling very warm and oddly content.

Hildegarde did not know how long she had lain awake talking to Match. Since he had no history of his own, he was particularly keen to hear every detail of her own, and she told it readily, grateful that, at last, she had someone to listen who would judge her for her own merits, and not the infamy of her father.

She watched her companion closely as she detailed her family's tortured history with the Romans, painfully aware of how her fascination with Match must somehow follow from curiosity about her father. She had never admitted it before, but she wondered almost everyday if he were still alive, and if he ever thought of her. What was his life like, in the sunny lands that lined the sea? Did he have a house with stone walls and wooden floors? Could he draw streams through his house that delivered water at the turn of a little key as she had heard the tribesmen who had lived among the invaders explain? Was it warm in the winter, and did he miss the snow? She wanted to ask Match his opinions on all of these things but, of course, he did not remember, and she would not risk reminding him of his past.

They drifted closer as they spoke. At first, he was merely caressing her hair, then holding her hand. Finally, by the time her mother's arrival through the fur flap that covered their door brought her once again awake, they were entwined tightly in each other's arms.

Rodelind made a sharp sound of shock and, reluctantly, Hildegarde moved away. Seeing this slight concession, her mother said no more, but the girl could sense the painful disapproval in the older woman's silence.

As she slowly returned to consciousness, Antonia became aware of a pleasant warmth against her back and around her waist. She did not want to question its origins, but the sharp contrast between that sensation and the chill that seemed to sting her face and toes was too great. Slowly she opened one eye and looked around . Still sleepy, her mind needed a moment to remember where she was but with the memory also came a question, "Where was Quintus?" She looked toward the spot where he had been sitting the night before but, In the dim light of early morning he was nowhere to be found. Frowning, she tried to get up, but something stopped her. It was then she realized the source of the heat across her stomach. It was an arm. A male arm. Quintus' arm, and behind her back there was his chest.

Antonia's eyes widened in surprise, but she did not move. What was he doing? And how had he gotten there? She smiled wickedly to think how pleased she would have been to have found herself in this situation as an eleven year old girl...then the look faded as she remembered the kiss from the night before. Was it any less welcome to a twenty-two year old woman? What was happening to her? Antonia shifted her weight, slightly, hoping to see Quintus' face, but when she did so, she gasped in surprise. He was awake, and seemed to be watching her!

With a cry, Antonia freed herself and jumped on her feet, starting to shiver at once as the cold air met her skin her. Quintus, lost in his own daydreams, blinked at her sudden movement and could not stop pang of pain to see how poorly she had reacted to his presence. Feeling hurt -- and not wanting to wonder WHY he should feel so -- he snapped, "Put on your cloak! I don't want you to catch a cold, not after all the trouble I went to last night to keep you warm."

"What?" Antonia inquired, sliding the garment around her shoulders without protestation.

Quintus stood and said, in a matter-of-fact tone, "You don't think I held you for my own pleasure....I was merely trying to stop you from catching pneumonia ....I would hate for Caesar to accuse me of not caring enough for your imperial health."

Antonia blinked quickly, hoping that she could stop the humiliated tears that sprung instantly to her eyes. "YOU!" She cried, so outraged that she searched around her for something to throw at him, but there was nothing.

Quintus left her steaming and went to the other side of the cavern to collect their few belongings. "I am going outside to tend to the horses. I suggest you to use this moment of privacy to do...whatever you need to do, because there wont be any more stops until we arrive back at camp." And with that, he walked away leaving Antonia all alone.

Because her mother had worked throughout the night, it was Hildegarde's duty to prepare the breakfast, and she awoke before the dawn began to streak the sky to inspect their larder and plan the morning meal. It was early winter, and the ground was covered in a heavy snow that had fallen during the night, but there were still plenty of berries and grains that they had saved from the harvest. It would be many months before their diet was reduced to beans and dried meat. Perhaps, after they ate, she could show Match the trails for hunting, and could prepare fresh venison, or other game for their dinner.

Hildegarde prepared the meal carefully, secretly hoping to impress Match with her abilities. The meal of maize and cranberry cakes was a bit elaborate for an ordinary meal, but her guest seemed to regard it with appreciation- a fact which made the reproachful gaze of Rodelind bearable.

After the dishes were cleaned and stacked in their basket, she told her mother of her plan to take the stranger hunting.

Rodelind merely nodded. She wanted to warn her daughter to stop- to remind her that she was risking her heart with very little hope of success- she knew that someday, perhaps soon or in the distant future, the Roman's memories would return. Hildegarde's own broken heart would be the price of the lesson that her mother had learned- that in love, every piece of happiness risks greater pain.

"Do not be gone long." The woman cautioned.

Hildgarde nodded. She gave Match the bow and arrows that her father had left behind plus his sword, then, bundled in heavy furs, they set out into the forest.

The little thickets that surrounded the village had been turned into a winter wonderland. A freezing rain, which had fallen before the snow left a layer of ice on every tree, so that each slender branch appeared dipped in glass. The icicles and snowdrifts glittered on the snow in the bright sun.

"Where should we begin?" Match asked quietly. Though he knew from his conversation with Hildegarde that he had been a hunter, he could not seem to remember much about what he should do. The weapon beneath his arm felt clumsy and unfamiliar, and nothing that they passed seemed familiar.

"There!" Hildegarde said with excitement. "Deertracks...do you see them?"

Match nodded at the small indentations in the snow. "Yes."

The pair followed the trail in silence, until they came upon a thicket beside a slender stream.

"Look!" Hildegarde hissed, ducking almost automatically as the deer that they had been following, a magnificent specimen with heavy antlers, pricked its ears in apprehension.

"what do I do now?" her companion asked.

"Shoot it!"

"Shoot it?" He knew that the concept was connected in some way with the weapon that he held. He had imaged, in the back of his mind, of arrows arcing regally through the sky- but he could not know that ,as a Roman General, in command of auxilaries of Syrian Archers, (and before that, a member of the cavalry whose only weapon was a sword and spear), he had only the barest training in its use. At Hildegarde's insistance, he selected an arrow from his quiver and threaded it into the bow. The notch on the back, slid into place more easily than he had feared.

"Steady..." Hildegarde coached, placing her hand on his elbow to brace it. "Aim.....NOW!"

On her signal, Match released the arrow. He watched it speed through the air.....and fall into the snow almost ten feet from the deer. Although it had not been hurt, the animal was instantly alert. Stomping its hooves, it bolted for the heavy cover of the forest.

Match cursed under his breath.

"I can't remember how---"

"It's okay." Hildegarde soothed. "You have been injured. It will return to you soon..."

Five hours later, the girl was not so sure. Her story-- that Match had been a wandering hunter-- was quickly falling apart. Nearly a dozen arrows had been lost, and they did not even have so much as a squirrel to show for it. It was getting dark.

"Lets head back." She said wearily, turning to trace their footsteps back to the town. She had barely rounded the corner when a large, brown shape entered her field of vision.

"Hildegarde!"Match shouted. "Watch out!"

The snow-covered landscape might have been beautiful in different circumstances. To Quintus and Antonia, however, the situation was only another obstacle to overcome. The white blanket which now covered the ground not only made more difficult for the Legatus to find the road to the camp, but also slowed the horses considerably. The beasts advanced with tentative steps, carefully testing the ground before putting weight on their hooves. The two riders were silent and concentrated on the road. Antonia was clad again in a full uniform: the helmet on her head protecting her from the ice which fell from the tree branches. Although she was worried about what would happen to her when she faced Marcus Aurelius, and was desolate with the certainty that she would be sent away, she also felt strangely happy. She had rested well in Quintus' arms. Her desire to make him feel guilty for what had happened so many years before was beginning to fade. Antonia was could sense that the way she looked at Legatus Clarus was changing. Riding behind him, she could not help but notice the curve of his strong back, the way his thighs clung to the horse or the proud posture of his head.

Suddenly the object of her observation raised his hand in the air, commanding her to halt. Antonia reined in her mare and trotted up to Quintus' stallion where she asked quietly, "What is it?"

"I don't know. My horse pricked his ears and he is showing signs of nervousness." Quintus scanned the forest around them like a hawk searching for prey, but he could not discern anything unusual.

"Maybe he heard a wild animal...a deer or something like that."

"Perhaps..." the legatus hestitated, unable to shake the feeling that they were in danger. "We should speed up. We are too vulnerable in this open space."

"Very well, I'll do whatever you want."

Quintus arched an eyebrow at the demure words and a little smile appeared

on his lips. Was this the same obstinate girl he had threatened to spank the evening before? Still grinning, he shook his head and returned to studying the landscape around them.

After a while they reached a clearing in the woods which looked like the

beginning of the road to the camp. Antonia beamed, "Look Quintus, you found it!"

"Shhhh! Be quiet!" Quintus worried tone made the rest of her words die on her tongue. Pushing her horse near the legatus, she asked, "What is it now?"

Quintus pointed to the ground,before unsheating his sword. "Look."

Antonia followed his finger with her eyes and gasped when she saw the outlines foot-prints in the snow. From what she remembered of her father's teaching she determined that at lot of men had walked in that place -probably around fifteen. She felt a shiver run along her spine but she suppressed it. This was not the time to show her fear: She could not know to whom the prints belonged but she hoped the view of two armed Roman soldiers might

deter them from doing anything rash. She drew her sword and flanked Quintus.

The legatus gasped at the sight of her determined face and bared steel,understanding at once what she was trying to do. He felt a bout of admirationfor her courage....she was so feminine but at the same time the undeniable heir to general Claudius. He looked in her eyes and nodded with approval, "From now on, no matter what happens, follow my orders to the letter and don't speak for any reason. Whoever left these prints must not know you are a woman, they must believe you are a young man."

He did not tell Antonia his suspicion- that the barbarians were very close- or his fears on what would happen to her if her identity were revealed. He was grateful that, for whatever reason, she seemed content to follow his lead.

Antonia nodded her head, and Quintus walked his horse around her mare, examining her attire, then adjusted her cape better, so that it covered the portion of her braided hair which peeked from beneath her helmet. Satisfied at last, he motioned with his head, "Let's go."

They had barely covered a hundred yards when a terri fying scream broke the stillness of the forest and a group of bear-skin covered men jumped onto the road from the hill which overlooked it. In what seemed like only a second, Antonia and Quintus were surrounded by more than a dozen Germans armed with short swords and axes. The legatus looked around him, trying to find a way to escape. He noticed that one of the attackers seemed wounded, his sword held a little lower and looser than the others....Perhaps if they charged against him they could break through the circle. Quintus considered the plan, and then thought about Antonia: she might look like a soldier, but she was not one...He flicked his gaze in her direction and noticed how pale she was. Though her expression was calm, the tightness of her knuckles on the reigns and the blankness in her eyes told him that she was almost paralyzed with fear. There is no way she would be able to follow his lead and attack the barbarians.

The Germans tightened their circle, forcing him to make a choice. With a sigh, Quintus understood there was only a thing he could do: he let go of his sword and raise his hands. Antonia saw him and gave him a questioning look. Quintus' heart constricted at the lost expression in her eyes but he could not offer comfort. He could only direct her to follow his moves. As the first German grabbed the reins of Quintus' horse, Antonia left her sword fall and raised her hands, her head bowed in defeat.

Hildegarde turned quickly, and then she screamed. She had been moving so steadily through the forest, that she did not realize that she had walked directly into the path of a large brown bear. It was unusual for the creatures to be out in the snow- usually they spent all winter hibernating, and the unexpected nature of the encounter made the sudden appearance all

the more frightening. What should she do? Hildegarde was frozen with fear. She knew that the best thing to do was to pretend to play dead, but she could not will herself to do it. In spite of knowing it was the worst possible tactic that she could try, she took off in a sprint toward the little cliff that they had just climbed. Unspuprisingly, the animal followed. She screamed again as she stumbled on a rock. The creature was almost upon her now. She dug her fingernails into the .ground, trying to regain her footing, but she was too late. She cried out again, this time in pain as as sharp claw raked across her back.

Hildegarde twisted her her head backwards, unable to fight the strange desire to face her attacker, and what she saw made her heart leapt to her throat. The creature was lunging again, its teeth bared...she clenched her eyes, tensing for what she knew must come. Instead of slashing, however, there was a low growl, and then the sound of the creature turning away.

Hildegarde's back felt as though it were on fire, and it was difficult to gain her footing, but her adreanline rush outweighed her pain. She ran for a tree, and only then did she look back.

Match had attacked the animal and had saved her life. He was facing it even now, the long, heavy sword that he had worn in a sheath upon his back bared and waving menacingly at the creature. She watched in half-sick fascination as the struggle unfolded. She was fearful, recalling too well her beloved's feeble attempts at using the bow and arrow but relieved to find that his skill with a blade was as advanced as his prowess with a bow was deficient.

He was going to win.

Hildegarde's nerves sang with joy as Match artfully parried the lunging throws of the great bear's claws, and , finally, his chest heaving with exhaustion, moved forward and sank the blade deep into the creatures heart. She barely breathed for a moment, shivering as the death throes of the animal echoed through the barren woods. at last, it was still, and Match released the handle of the sword. It was over. The creature was dead. She smiled at him in relief, puzzled as the colors of the forest seemed to fade, and then dissolve.....

Match gritted his teeth and held his ground as the bear took its final breath. His heart was pounding. The terrifying events of the last few moments had been so unexpected that he was nearly in shock. At last, it was over. His shoulder was bleeding slightly-- one of the animal's claws had glanced across his skin, but otherwise he was unharmed. He hoped that he could say the same for Hildegarde.

Looking toward the girl, Match dropped his weapon in alarm, and began sprinting toward her. She was weaving unsteadily and then, just before he reached her position, she fell, slumping into the snow, the pure white of the ground stained scarlet....He scooped her into his powerful arms, gasping at the sight of the blood pouring from her back. The animals claws had dug even deeper than he feared. He had to get her home- and quickly.

Rodelind was in her garden when Match arrived home. She was clearing away the snow from the tender winter vegetables. She tilted her head to the side, wondering where her daughter was, then shrieked in fear as she noticed the burden Match carried in his arms.

"Hildegarde!" she cried, rusing forward. "What happened? "" She did not wait for a reply.

"Romans!" She spat.

"No...." Match ran past her into the hut, lowering Hildegarde onto the soft furs, and arranging he on her stomach so that her wounds would be open to her mother's ministrations. "It was a bear."

"A bear, at this time of the year?" Rodelind was suspicous.

"Yes. We came across it when we were retuning from our hunt. Hildegarde tried to run away, but....."

Rodelind glanced at the man's bleeding arm. "You are hurt as well?"

"Not really." he shrugged her away. "It is Hildegarde who needs your help."

Nodding in agreement, Rodelind set to work. She was relieved to determine that, more than anything, the girl was suffering merely from shock. The wounds were deep- they were certain to scar but no great damage had been done. She would heal.

Rodelind prepared a poulitce and bandages, moving more slowly after she had regained her composure. She watched the Roman's face, amazed at the tenderness and concern that she saw in his features. Perhaps Hildegarde was right. They had no way to know what past deeds he might be responsible for, but it was clear, from the guileless compassion in his face, that in his soul he was a decent man. Maybe she could learn to accept him. Why risk alienating her only family and friend for the shadow of her own fears? For one terrifying moment, she had thought her daughter was dead, and the lonliness of the instant had seemed to suck all the light from her world. She could let Hildegard do anything- even leave with the Roman if that were her choice- as long as she knew that her daughter was happy and alive.

After tending to her daughter, Rodelind left the hut. She was needed in other parts of the village. The chieftain's wife was still recovering from the birth of her child the day before, and there were several families suffering from minor ailments that she needed to attend to. She also planned to call on Godeoc if he would admit her- to apologize for her daughter's behavior. She didn't know precisely what she would say, but she knew from bitter experience the pain that came from rejection.

Match remained by Hildegarde, watching as she slept. She had awakened, for an instant soon after arriving at home, but her mother had prepared a potion to make her sleep. It was better for her to conserve her energy, the older woman announced. That way, her body could concentrate on healing itself.

Match smiled at the steady rise and fall of her chest, grateful to know that she was safe. As he watched her, he considered his feelings. He barely knew the girl- they had been together a few short days, and yet, he felt on many levels that she was his soul's companion. She had spoken to him late into the night on the evening before, and in her hushed stories of her father's departure, he had felt an echo of his own loneliness. He had also lost something that he loved, though he could not recall what that might be. There were so many things to admire about the girl. In addition to being beautiful, she was clever, and skilled. She knew almost as much about medicine as her mother, and her abilities in weaving and pottery were in evidence throughout the small dwelling.

Thinking back to the morning meal, the warrior reflected on the thought that he could be very happy here. He did not remember his true tribe, but it would be inconsequential if he took Hildegarde as a wife. Men always lived with their wive's families. He could belong here, on these soft furs next to Hildegarde, their children could play on the floor.

"Match? What are you thinking?" Hildegade's soft voice alerted him to the fact that she was still awake.

"Shhh....." he commanded, laying his finger across her lips. "Rest."

Hildegarde remained obediantly motionless.

"What happened?"

"You were attacked by a bear, do you remember?"

"Yes....barely....It seems so long ago...."

He grazed her cheek with his lips. "Your mother's medicine has made you sleepy. You will remember better in the morning."

"You....you saved my life...."

Match gave her another kiss, this time closer to her lips. "Then we are even." Hildegarde tried to rise from her furs, but Match's hands pushed her back down. "Rest." he whispered again. "I will be close by." Wanting to resist, but lacking the energy, Hildegarde did as she was told.

A door slammed shut and Quintus and Antonia found themselves alone in almost pitch blackness. As soon as he heard a bolt being pulled, the legatus hurried to Antonia and pulled her toward him.

"How are you feeling?"

Exhausted from the long march in the deep snow which their captors had forced her to undertake Antonia did not think to lie or to feign a strength she did not feel. She leaned against him gratefully and whispered, "I am at the end of my endurance... I don't know how I am able to stay on my feet."

Quintus smiled and brushed a few loose locks from her face, "You were very brave and strong, to accept all their pushing and shoving without giving away your identity."

"You really think so?"

"Of course."

Antonia answered with a weak smile and then turned her head to look around her.

They were confined in low hut. It was not very large, with thick stone walls a single, high opening for light and air like the little buildings Romans sometimes used for curing meat. Stepping out of Quintus' arms, the young woman walked few steps away and slid to the floor, her back resting against a wall. Quintus followed her example, and soon they were sitting side by side.

"What do you think they will do with us?" Antonia murmured.

Quintus shook his head. "I don't know. I only caught a few of their words.....I think they want to keep us prisoners, but I don't know if they want to ask a ramson for us or if they want to... interrogate us."

Antonia paled at the word 'interrogate', because she knew what it really meant: torture.

She was torn away from her dark thoughts by the sound of the bolt sliding open once more. The door swung toward them and one of their captors entered carring a small lamp, which he hung to the wall. Then he threw something to the ground and walked away.

Quintus stood up and went to examine what the man had left behind. It was a packet containing strips of dried meat, a chunk of oat bread and some water in a goat-skin. It was barely enough to feed two persons, but at least it was clear the barbarians did not yet wish to let them starve.

He picked the items up and brought them to Antonia. Then he sat down again and began to divide the food into two portions. He moved to lay the larger one in front of Antonia. She noticed it and stilled his hand. "We will eat the same amount...I don't want you to starve in my behalf."

"Antonia....I am a soldier, I am used to this but you..."

" I wont eat at all if you don't have the same amount as me." She was unmovable.

Quintus sighed but obeyed, "You are a stubborn woman do you know that?"

"I know- And I think you like it." Antonia smiled and in the dim light her

teeth flashed briefly.

Quintus shook his head and whispered in a voice so low that only he could hear, "Yes I like it very much." then he cleared his throat and added sternly, "Now eat!"

"Yes sir!" she made the military salute and then began to eat her dinner.

The next morning, the snow was still very deep, and the air had turned colder than before. Still, the little house was cozy, and the young German girl had no reason to leave the warmth of her small hut. Match happily took over her chores- lighter than usual to begin with, since there was little that could be done out of doors. Rodelind was gone again. A bout of the flu had affected most of the town, and it seemed that everyone was calling at the same instant for a healer to visit their home. This made Hildegarde happy for a number of reasons. First, the game and other supplies that her mother would collect in payment would stretch their winter stores- strained somewhat with the unanticipated addition of Match. Also, the woman's constant absence would give her time alone with him.

Match.

Hildegarde stretched luxiuriantly and opened her eyelids slightly to look across the room to where he was stirring her broth. All morning, he had been fussing over her like a mother hen, anxiously checking her bandages, proping her up with rolls of cloth, and trying to distract her with jokes.

He seemed to sense her watching him, and turned his head. "How are you feeling?" He asked tenderly, bringing a bowl of steaming soup to her position on the floor.

"Much better."

"And the pain...?"

She smiled reassuringly. "It is fading."

Match sat the soup on the floor, and then lightly lifted the back of Hildegarde's tunic to check the bandages beneath. She shivered as his fingers brushed her bare skin.

"Cold?" He asked, quickly dropping the covering back into place.

She remained silent, unwilling to admit that it had been precisely the opposite- his lightest touch had filled her with an almost unbearable heat.

"What do you want to do today?" He asked, trying to change the subject. "It is snowing outside again, and your mother may not be able to return."

Hildegarde tried to surpress her grin at the images of the "games" which rapidly came to mind. "Oh, I hope it doesn't snow that much!" Hildegarde lied as she sat up. "but a game would be fine..."

"Do you have a lantriculi board?" He asked.

Hildegarde squinted in confusion, and then her expression rapidly devolved into horror. A Latin word- did he remember? "No." She said, quickly, hoping he would not guess what had just occurred.

"A pity. I love to play." He paused, and Hildegarde held her breath as she watched him realize that he had caught another memory from his past and then struggled to bring it more sharply into focus. At last, his features relaxed. He had abandoned the fight, and the girl could breathe once more. "At least, I think that I do." He laughed. "But no matter, what do you propose...?"