Chapter Nine: Side by Side
"Wake up, lady."
"Ugh!" Octavia turned over on her back, and stared stupidly into the stern, humorless face of First Spear Centurion Lucius Vorenus. The centurion was one of those annoying people who always look immaculate no matter how long they happen to go without bathing or shaving. Even the red-gold stubble on his chin seemed to shine in the morning sun.
"You've got to make yourself presentable, lady. The gods have been merciful, and our tiny garrison has been relieved. General Metellus Cimber has just arrived with a full legion."
"Right . . . Metellus Cimber is here. Right." Octavia sat up, rubbing her eyes, still confused and trying to get her bearings. This wasn't her tent – the tent she shared with Brutus' mother, the poised and gracious Lady Servilia. Instead of a proper couch she had been lying on a plank of wood covered by a scarlet cloak. It was a Centurion's cloak.
"I took the liberty of covering you after you fell asleep," Vorenus said, stiffly, as if he were reporting to a superior officer. "You were a great help last night, caring for the wounded. I would say that your kind words and calm demeanor went a long way to preventing a panic . . . before our reinforcements arrived."
"Thank you, Centurion." Octavia gave the stern soldier a rather timid smile as he helped her to her feet. She wished that Vorenus would say something about how she looked, or how he felt about her as a woman.
"I'd advise you to make haste, lady. Your face needs washing, and your stola is stained with blood and dirt."
"Humph!" Octavia jerked her slim white hand out of the Centurion's grip, and marched back to her own tent with her head held high. She scrubbed her face almost angrily, promising herself that when she got back to Rome she would burn her clothes and soak in a hot bath for a week. And she would never even speak to Lucius Vorenus again!
"Ah, Lady Octavia!" General Metellus Cimber was a white-haired man with a round, red face and a friendly smile. He entered the large, well-furnished tent and kissed a freshly washed Octavia on both cheeks. "My dear, I can't to tell you how relieved we were to find you safe and sound in camp. I can't imagine what your mother would do without you."
"Probably the same things she does when I'm around," Octavia said cynically. "Lying, scheming, spreading rumors, ruining people's lives . . . mother is good at things like that."
The elderly general looked embarrassed. "Yes, well, I'm sure Atia will be very glad to see you again. You see, I have orders to see to it that you are escorted back to Rome at once."
"Is Brutus ordering his mother to return at once as well?" Octavia asked, raising one eyebrow in a pointed manner. The more she knew about Rome's new ruler the less she liked him . . . even if she did still secretly adore his mother.
Metellus Cimber looked very grim. "I'm afraid not, lady. You see, the Lady Servilia disobeyed the orders of your acting commander, Lucius Vorenus. She took out a detachment late last night, while you were resting, and went searching for the other legions on her own. But somehow she missed us in the dark, and though we still hope for the best, well, it appears she may have fallen into enemy hands."
"No!" Octavia felt as if she might faint. But she forced herself to be strong and determined, like Servilia. "We must find her!"
"Lady, we have detachments out scouring the countryside," Cimber said soothingly, catching the distraught beauty by the hand. "But the point is that with an uprising in full swing this portion of Cisalpine Gaul is far too dangerous for a lady like you. That is why you must return to Rome, my dear."
"Take your hands off me you old . . . you old fool!" Gentle Octavia had never in her life spoken so rudely to an adult. But she was beside herself with rage. Poised and ladylike Servilia was braver than any general, tougher than any legionary soldier. How dare these stuffy, self-important men abandon her to the enemy's tender mercies?
"Vorenus!" Octavia barked. She had just caught him saddling a beautiful white horse in a deserted section of the camp. "Get your men ready, and prepare to follow me. We're going in search of the Lady Servilia!"
"Not possible, Lady," said the red-haired centurion, patting his horse's rump. "You and I are to leave for Rome at once."
"I am Caesar's blood!" Octavia flared. "I give the orders here. Or have you forgotten your leader already?"
"Caesar was destroyed by the plots of your friend Servilia," Vorenus replied calmly. "Now that he's gone I'm not risking your life for hers. You have too much to live for, lady."
"That shows how much you know," Octavia muttered bitterly. She felt like cursing Vorenus, or kicking him in the shins. But all she could do was climb up on the horse he offered her.
The two of them rode out of camp together, side by side.