Chapter 23

As Frieda returned from guard duty, her fingers curled around a bow, she topped upon the hill and gazed out over the camp.

The once bustling and boisterous encampment was now silent as nearly a quarter of their followers had succumbed to the disease.

Mainly women and children were the victims but a few good gladiators had joined them in Charon’s boat.

But despite all of the killing, the sun still managed to rise over the horizon and mark a new day for the world.

Frieda was struck in awe for a moment as she realised that, long after she and the people around her had died, that the sun would still keep rising and falling in its ancient rhythm.

Whether aided by the Gods or not, as some philosophers were now claiming, the world will keep turning.

It put their actions on this earth into perspective for a moment.

Frieda may die in the inevitable battle that was to come or she may die tomorrow, if the Roman’s decided to attack now in their weakened state, either way Frieda was going to die and she felt guilty.

She had seen a lot in her short life but throughout her time in slavery she had promised herself that at the first opportunity that arose, Frieda would leave Rome and look for her sister.

The only remaining blood family she had left in this world.

Frieda did not regret her decision to stand by Krista. She owed Krista her life and their work was valuable. No person, serf or high-born, deserved to be in chains.

Frieda only knew that she could not remain here forever. She needed to find her sister. Frieda had promised her that she would find her.

And Frieda kept her promises.

As the sun continued to rise into the sky, Frieda turned away from the beautiful sight and headed down the mound towards her first stop of the new day.

Gathering a bowl of breakfast with a few chunks of bread on her way, Frieda ducked around a crowd of starving people and hurried down through the tents.

Not bothering to knock, Frieda stepped through the tent flaps and called for Artorius to awaken.

Laying her bow down to the side, she handed Artorius a slice of bread before she took her seat on a stool and began to chow down on her first meal.

Artorius raised the bread in question, “Gratitude,” He rolled his eyes before throwing the bread at the bottom of his bunk and swinging his legs over the side.

“You need to rest,” Frieda informed Artorius as she swallowed another spoonful of food, trying not to think too much about what was in the bowl, only knowing that it was warm and filled her stomach.

“I am perfectly well,” Artorius waved her off and rose to his feet, taking a few seconds to balance himself before he reached for his clothes.

“You are not strong enough,” Frieda shook her head as she laid the bowl on the table; “You need to rest.”

“I will not sit in bed whilst Krista is out there,” Artorius strapped on his boots.

“You are no use to Krista, or the baby, if you collapse,” Frieda argued, placing a hand on her hip, “Take another day to rest. I’ve already sent out a messenger to collect Krista and the others.”

“A messenger?” Artorius coughed lightly to clear his chest. Artorius ignored the look Frieda gave him, “Is the camp well enough for them to return?”

Frieda sighed, he was too stubborn to accept that he needed to rest, “We have just given the antidote to the last few with the symptoms. We’ve cleared the dead bodies and burnt all of the linen.”

Artorius straightened as he pulled on his pauldron and strapped it around his torso.

“I’ve sent out a hunting party to bring in food for the people returning,” Frieda reassured him, “Leonidas and I have this well in hand. You are not needed.”

Artorius paused and Frieda had thought she’d gotten through to him but in the next second he shrugged her hand off and walked out of the tent.

Frieda sighed in annoyance; Artorius liked to claim that Krista held all of the pride in their relationship but Frieda doubted that as she followed him out.

Artorius had refused to use his and Krista’s tent whilst he was ill, fearing he may contaminate the air.

Frieda thought it was a noble gesture but now he was acting purely idiotic. His skin was still rather warm and held a deathly pale colour to it but he would not hear of resting.

Krista was gone so Artorius had to pick up the slack.

“Artorius!” Leonidas called in joy as he saw his friend, albeit slightly confused as to why he was wandering around on his feet.

Frieda and Leonidas shared a look but Frieda just shook her head, telling him not to get involved.

Artorius would not be spoken to.

“Leonidas,” Artorius slapped his comrade on the shoulder in welcome, “Where is Cato?” Artorius looked around in surprise.

“He’s just over the next hill guarding the other group,” Leonidas grumbled, not liking that they were parted, “We’ve sent a messenger this morning. They should be returning before noon.”

“Good,” Artorius nodded as they worked through the mechanics of the camp, dissecting how much sources they had left and how long their provisions would last.

“I am going to take the horse,” Artorius informed the both of them as they walked through the camp together, “And search for Krista.”

“We have already sent someone,” Frieda told him, “You need to rest.”

“They do not know Krista like I,” Artorius gave Frieda a reassuring smile, “I shall find her faster and these people need to see her,”

Frieda looked around her at the people who remained; the fire that had once blazed bright was now diminishing from their gaze.

They were losing faith in the cause. They were losing hope and Frieda knew that Artorius was right.

They needed to see Krista return, if only to boost their morale.

Frieda nodded her head as she turned back to Artorius, “Take some provisions from the tent and remember to-”

“-Look!” A young woman screamed in glee as she ran past them in a hurry.

Frieda ignored the woman at first, turning back to Artorius and Leonidas, when more and more people started to run past them, shouting as they went.

“-She’s here!”

“-On the hill!”

“-Look!”

Frieda frowned as she turned and looked upwards towards the hill.

And the moment she did the breath left her body.

Because there, bathed in the early morning sunlight, sat astride her horse was Krista.

She had returned and the effect was overwhelming as the camp, which had been silent with grief, now bubbled to life around them.

Artorius needed no more encouragement as he hurried past her and delved into the crowd.

Frieda and Leonidas remained where they were, simply watching her majestic image as a wave of relief hit them.

But it was only momentary when a second horse joined Krista’s upon the hilltop.

“Diomed,” Frieda murmured under her breath, a feeling she didn’t known stabbing at her chest.

* * *

Krista broke through the trees and brought her horse to a halt upon the hilltop.

The morning sun was still rising, bathing everything beneath her in an orange-pink hue.

Diomed hung behind for a few minutes as Krista allowed her eyes to scan the encampment, her hand resting gently atop her stomach.

It felt like she had been gone for years when in fact it had been only nearly a month.

The camp appeared different and yet similar at the same time.

Scanning her eyes over the people that walked through the camp, not knowing that they were being watched, Krista searched for Artorius.

She looked across the entire camp twice when she found him; his dark head of hair standing out against the two blondes beside him, as they were engulfed in conversation.

Frieda and Leonidas.

Krista felt a small sigh of relief leave her lips to find her two trusted friends still alive.

But her heart ached with joy as she saw Artorius, her fingers itching to run to him but she was content for the moment, to watch him from afar.

But her wishes went unanswered as she was spotted from people in the camp and they started to chant her name, their fingers pointing directly at her.

Krista watched as Artorius faced her but he was too far away for Krista to see the expression on his face when Diomed stopped by her side.

A silence hung between them for a few moments.

“Are you going to tell them?” Diomed asked.

Krista did not need to ask what he meant by that question.

She battled with her conscience for a moment, “No.”

Diomed looked at her with a mixture of confusion and relief.

“They do not need to know,” Krista told him, “It would only distract their attention.”

Krista looked down at Artorius progressing through the gathering crowds below her.

“And besides, everything you did is in the past,” Krista clicked the inside of her cheek for her horse to start walking, “It’s what you do from now on that matters.”

Diomed took a deep breath before he motioned for his own horse to follow Krista’s and they re-entered the camp.

* * *

Dianna ran.

She ran as fast as she could and never looked back.

Her sandals caught the weeds and twigs, ripping open the thin flesh of her ankles, but she kept going.

She needed to make it back to camp.

She needed to find Krista and complete her task.

It was the only way her aunt, Pompeia, was going to pardon her for her crimes.

Dianna had killed a roman soldier and now the Empress thought that Dianna had defected to Krista’s cause.

Dianna needed to show her aunt that she still loved Rome. That she still wanted to avenge her father.

And Dianna did, more than anything.

But she didn’t want to die either. She was too young to die.

* * *

Pompeia was feeling agitated.

Agitated and annoyed as she received very little news from either Commander Gaius or Argus about their progress.

She had given both of them their own armies and this was how they answered her? With silence!?

Even Rheia had not responded to Pompeia’s latest query into their actions and out of everyone the Empress thought she could trust her.

Pompeia was beginning to feel her control slipping through her fingers and she could not let that happen.

Beyond everything else, Pompeia needed to keep in control. The moment she lost that she lost the empire.

The people would not follow an Empress who could not control her own men.

Pacing the length of the grand hall in fury, her skirts billowing out behind her from the wind, Pompeia pondered what to do next when a guard appeared in the doorway.

“Yes?” Pompeia snapped at the man as he marched forward and handed her a letter.

Turning it over in her hands, Pompeia held onto it like it was a gift from Jupiter himself.

Forcing her fingers to break the seal and read its contents, Pompeia halted everything she was doing.

She read the message and re-read it again before reading it a third time.

And then a fourth time, just to make sure.

“Well, well,” Pompeia chuckled as she lifted her head and gazed at the fountain in the courtyard outside the hall, “This is interesting.”