Ruth Downie - Semper Fidelis

The road grew emptier and Virana’s spirits visibly sank as they turned north. Finally they were on a track that was mostly churned mud with patches of grass sprouting in the middle. After a few minutes Tilla saw smoke, and beneath it the thatched cones of three or four buildings. “Is that it?”

“I feel really, really sick.” Virana’s head hung down. She had let her hair fall forward over her face. “I think I’m going to faint.”

Tilla tucked one hand firmly under the girl’s arm and urged her forward. “Not far now.”

Beyond the gate, a pair of geese announced their arrival to two young men who were loading a mule cart. Farther back toward the houses, a barefoot girl of about ten was milking a goat. It was a scene that reminded Tilla of her own home in the good days. Before the raiders came.

The girl moved the bucket out of kicking distance and abandoned the goat, running toward one of the buildings. “Mam!”

A woman emerged, pushing graying hair out of her eyes with exactly the same gesture as Virana. She stared at the two figures by the gate. “Where have you been, then?”

“As if we can’t guess,” put in the smaller of the young men, sounding more disdainful than fierce.

The girl chased the geese away and dragged the gate far enough open for them to squeeze through. “You’re in trouble!” she announced gleefully. “Barita’s still sulking and I’m not big enough to do things. Who’s that?”

Virana glanced at Tilla and mumbled something. The bigger brother looked Tilla up and down and gave a noisy sniff through a flattened nose before observing, “She can bring you here anytime.”

Tilla introduced herself as a friend from Eboracum.

The smaller brother swung a basket of cabbages up into the cart and said, “At least this friend’s not in uniform.”

“Remember your manners, you!” snapped the mother. She turned to Tilla. “You’ll have to excuse them: They take after their father-not that he cares. I do my best, but they take no notice. None of them. Will you get off that gate? How many times?” The small girl grinned and slithered to the ground. The woman turned to Virana. “You, get in the house and put some proper clothes on. What do you think you look like, running around like that?”

Virana cast Tilla a look that said, I told you so! although she had not.

Tilla said, “Perhaps-”

“She looks like what she is,” observed the smaller brother. “A cheap little bitch who opens her legs for the soldiers.”

“Shut up!” Virana shrieked at him. “Just shut up!” Then with a sob she buried her face in her hands and rushed toward the house, the pink skirt trailing in the mud.

Her mother rounded on him with “Now see what you’ve done!” as if it were all his fault. To Tilla she said, “Nothing but trouble since the day she was born, that one.”

Tilla said, “I think she has a kind heart.”

“Hah! That’s what they used to say about me. Too kind, I was!”

“What about you, then?” The smaller brother, who really was very rude, had turned to Tilla. “You another friend of the soldier boys?”

“Take no notice of him, miss,” put in Flat-nose. “All mouth and no manners, him.”

“I came to bring your sister home,” said Tilla, deciding the rude one was not worth the bother of slapping. “She was not sure she would be welcome.”

“She don’t have to be bloody welcome,” observed the rude one. “She lives here. What’s it to do with you?”

“I am a friend of your sister,” said Tilla. “And since you ask about soldiers, my husband is a senior medical officer with the Twentieth Legion.”

In the silence that followed, she was conscious of them all staring at her.

“Well done,” muttered Flat-nose to his brother.

The small girl said, “Are we in trouble, miss?”

“Not you,” Tilla assured her. She turned to the brothers. “Perhaps, when you have finished loading all those things you are hoping to sell to the soldiers you despise so much, you will escort me into town?”

“They’ll escort you into town and like it, miss!” said the mother before they could answer. “And they’ll keep their big mouths shut for a change. Miss, you come into the house for a sit-down and a drink while you’re waiting. You two, get that load on. You should have been off at dawn. At this rate, the emperor will be gone before you get there.”

Tilla’s eyes adjusted to the gloom inside the house while she breathed in the familiar smells of wood smoke and cabbage water and dog. Virana approached and offered a cup of fresh goat’s milk. She had changed into a dull brown tunic tied loosely around the middle with braid. Her eyes were swollen and her hair was even more disheveled than usual. Tilla said, “Virana, your mother needs you. And it is safer for you to be here.” Safer, at least, than ending up in a whorehouse in Deva. But she could hardly say that in front of the mother, and without it she was not sure her claim sounded very convincing.

Virana sniffed and went back to sit next to her little sister on the log by the hearth. Her mother thanked Tilla for bringing her home, adding with a sidelong glance, “The longer she hangs around the fortress, the more shame she heaps upon us. At least her sister got herself properly betrothed to a decent-”

“She wasn’t betrothed!” interrupted Virana. “Only officers can get married, Mam. Everybody knows that.”

The mother sighed. “Well, he can’t marry her now, that’s certain.” She raised her voice and called into the shadows behind her. “Barita, come and say hello to the officer’s wife!”

A muffled voice from the darkness said, “Leave me alone!”

“If your father were here, my girl, he’d have you out of that bed in no time!”

No reply.

The mother shook her head but made no attempt to roust her daughter. “I’ve told her she can’t keep this up. There’s plenty of lads round here would take her on. She’s not disgraced herself like this one.”

Suddenly there was movement. A wild-haired, blinking figure in creased clothes shambled into the light. She moved toward her mother. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” she hissed. She turned to address her sisters and Tilla. “You will never understand! None of you!” With that, she shuffled back toward the darkness.

Tilla said, “I am sorry for your loss.”

The girl spun round. “You? What do you care?”

“Oh, Barita!” sighed her mother. “There are plenty of other lads!”

“You are right,” agreed Tilla, wishing she had kept quiet. “It is none of my business.”

“It was never anyone’s business,” retorted Barita. “You’re just like the rest of them. Wash your hands and walk away!”

Virana folded her arms. “Anyone would think she is the only one with troubles.”

“Oh, will you two stop!” cried the mother. “Barita, put on your good tunic and comb your hair.”

Tilla drained the milk and said she would go and see whether the cart was ready. She was halfway across the yard when Barita’s voice called after her: “They place bets! Geminus and his men were betting on whether Dann and Sulio would get across the river!”

“Enough!” Tilla spun round, raising one hand for silence. “Say nothing more.”

“Walk away, officer’s wife! Pretend you haven’t heard. Just like everyone else.”

Even with her hands over her ears, Tilla still heard, “Tadius and Victor tried to get it stopped. None of the others had the courage to help. Not one!”

Tilla could feel her own heart beating. Flat-nose and the rude one had paused to watch her from the far side of the cart. The girl was standing with her hands on her hips, waiting for a response. Tilla walked over toward her. “You have not spoken about this,” she said. “I have not heard it, and neither have your mother and your brothers and sisters.”