The Centurion’s Wife: Reunion by the_white_buzz..,

Laelia was sitting on a small stone bench in a pokey courtyard, her face turned up to catch the first rays of watery winter sunlight peeping over the neighbouring tenement. The bustle of the chaotic street at the end of the alleyway was muffled enough to ignore, and for the few moments she could spare from her weaving, she closed her eyes.

She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, releasing the tension from her shoulders.

Opening her eyes once more, she looked down at her hands, covered in callouses, an eternal ache in her wrist. She had to take breaks more often now, the ache having turned into a terrible pain more than once, when she’d been driven to ignore the warning signs and complete her work anyway. Those had been hard days; but then no day had been easy since Lucius, her husband, had left Rome with the legions.

She sighed, rubbing the aching wrist with her hand, and looked up at the sun once more, allowing the thought of her husband to lead her mind down more pleasant, well-worn paths.

She’d always loved him, she thought wistfully. They’d grown up together in a tiny vicus with no name by the side of the Via Appia. His father had owned the caupona on the opposite side of the via from her own father’s merchant stall. She’d started off thinking he was glamorous just because he was older than her; but as she’d grown older herself, her feelings had changed. The childish crush had evolved into a heady infatuation as he’d turned from a skinny-limbed boy into a tall, handsome young man.

Whenever she’d been able to, Laelia had followed him with her eyes. She’d often see him outside the caupona, social and charismatic, mixing with the customers who stopped there. On festival days, he’d taken part in foot races with other boys in the field near the shrine of Silvanus, and though he’d often won, the small victories never made him arrogant.

She remembered the day that she’d noticed his eyes seeking her out. She’d been helping her pater, Laelius, in his stall. He sold beaded jewellery, and she’d been modelling two bracelets, holding out both her arms while an older woman pursed her lips in indecision. Laelia had glanced towards the caupona, and found that Lucius was looking directly at her. He’d been talking with two other young men, but his shy smile as their eyes met was just for her. She’d felt heat prickling at her neck, her heart hammering. She’d hastily looked back to the customer, telling herself it hadn’t meant anything… but it had.

Back and forth across that roadway their love had flowered; first in more long looks and bashful smiles; then in tentative greetings and passing words; and later, in shy meetings carried out on a stone bench beneath Laelius’ watchful, benign eye.

When they were an appropriate age, they were married.

Wishing to build a life of their own, away from the restricted world of that tiny vicus, they’d settled on living in Rome. Lucius had already decided on joining the legions, thinking he might be abroad for a year or two, but it was the only chance he might have to make their fortune.

She smiled to remember those precious months in the tiny domus they’d secured for themselves. The size of the place hadn’t bothered either of them — when they were at home, they’d spent their time in the narrow bed, exploring one another, making love with a tenderness and care that’d driven the thought of Lucius’ coming departure from both of their minds.

Yet the moment had come anyway, and only months after their marriage, Lucius went to join the army under Titus Vespasianus and marched for Judaea. That had been five long, fearful years before.

‘Are you Laelia, wife of Centurion Lucius Saturninus?’

She was startled from her thoughts by a young man who’d come down the alleyway unnoticed, and was standing, looking at her in inquiry. A tremor ran through her, and reflexively, she stood. She’d wished and hoped for word of him for so long, but now the moment had arrived, she found she was terrified it would be bad news. For a wild moment, she considered saying no and sending the messenger away.

She felt breathless as she said, ‘I am. Is there news?’

The messenger smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t be alarmed. I’m here to tell you that the victorious Legio XV has returned, and the Centurion asked me to bring you to him at their encampment outside the walls, if you’ll follow me?’

For a moment she could only stare at the messenger, the tumult in her chest of happiness, nervousness and a thousand emotions with no names leaving her speechless; but at last she found the words to ask, ‘He’s here?’

The messenger nodded, his smile mirroring hers as this fact sank in. ‘He is.’

‘He’s a centurion now?’

‘He is.’

Flustered, excited, she said, ‘I can’t believe it! One moment, I’ll just fetch my stola.’

The camp outside the walls of Rome came into view, row upon row of tents laid out with precision. The guards were relaxed, and waved the messenger and Laelia through with barely a glance.

She looked around wide-eyed. She’d never been in a military camp before; she felt as though she’d stepped into another world. She stayed close to the messenger.

There were men everywhere, drinking, laughing and joking, all of them looking relaxed and happy to be home, she supposed; she’d expected that. What she hadn’t expected was the women amongst their number, mixing with the men. While some may have been their wives, like herself, she could see that many, perhaps most, were meretrices.

This was a new, unpleasant thought. Had these women been with the army all along? The possibility that Lucius had been intimate with someone else was disturbing; but, she thought, it had been so many years…

They’d reached a large tent which the messenger explained housed some of the centurions, before saying kindly, ‘Just wait here for a moment.’

He ducked into the tent, leaving her standing alone in the muddy roadway, surrounded by men who eyed her mostly with idle curiosity, though some with more than that. She pulled her wrap tighter around herself, but not wishing to be cowed, she stared back.

It was only for a moment – then the messenger reappeared, followed by two other men who looked at her with interest as they passed. She watched them walk away together, chuckling between themselves.

The messenger called her back to the moment. ‘You can go in now, madam.’

She thanked him with a smile as he held the leather tent flap up for her, and stepped inside.

‘Laelia.’ His voice; the voice she’d struggled to remember, the voice that she’d longed to hear again. Deep and warm, full of love, full of happiness.

‘Lucius,’ she said as she crossed to where he stood, into his embrace, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder and kissing his neck as the happy tears came.

He stroked her back as she wept, holding her close.

‘I’m home. I’m here,’ he murmured, close to her ear, his voice shaking a little with his own emotion.

When her tears were spent, she smiled, wiping her cheeks with a corner of her stola, and took a moment to study his face.