“Let's get back before you get me into trouble.”

Walerius put on his armour again. He looked as if he could melt the earth with his glance. “Get ready,” he spewed.

“Sure,” Alana answered, rushing to the corner and putting her blue cloak back on. Walerius had already tied the sword to his belt and put the knife away. She thought of finding a weapon for herself. She looked through the makeshift table and the ground beneath but did not find anything.

“Let's get going,” he said.

“I’m coming,” she muttered, scanning through the tables. The only thing that seemed useful was an old rusty iron nail. She quickly grabbed it and put it in her cloak’s pocket.

“Don't think of stealing anything because that, darling, is severely punished.”

“Right. I wouldn't do that,” she chuckled.

“Fine. Let's get out of this place.”

Alana waited until he had turned his back on her, and she dashed through the curtains to snoop through other compartments. No weapons around, they had taken them all.

“Stop playing around,” Walerius said.

Alana rushed to the center, heading toward the exit. On the ground, where a wooden pole stood, she found a grill and pots underneath. The sky was uncovered, but the canopy was tied to that pole, along with the stakes on the other side. There, she found something. She knelt quickly and grabbed a small knife, probably used for cutting ropes, and a rope that lay on the floor like a coiled serpent. She stuffed it in her pockets and followed Walerius to the exit.

“What were you doing there?” he asked.

“I had to tie my bootlace.”

“Mithras be damned! I made a mistake with you. Hopefully, there are still women left. Now, don't let me get there late.”

They walked down into the forest as a few men were walking up toward the camp, forcibly taking their war brides by the arms.

“I prefer to die!” one of the women said. Others silently accepted their fate.

What would happen now?

“Hey, Walerius. Did they give you a broken one?” asked one of the soldiers.

“This wench is married to the son of an Imperial General,” he responded bitterly.

“What?” The other soldier was horrified. “And they didn't know? That is messed up.”

“You know, bad communication. Anyway, I'll get going to see if I catch something.”

She cleared her throat. “Are all these soldiers single?”

“Some single, some divorced. Some just want an extra wife.”

“Extra?”

“Yes. It's permitted now.”

“Who would do that?”

“Why not? A new law permits soldiers to have wives on different provinces. One per province.”

She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“Soldiers have to dissipate the energy, you know, and harlots don't give the same treatment. Also, the legion will need a constant supply of soldiers.”

She rolled her eyes in disgust.

“Fine,” she said. “Maybe it’s a cultural thing. I had never thought of that.”

“Sometimes people do it,” he said.

“Yes. Anyway, I have my husband and I wouldn’t change him, you know.”

“Give it a couple of years.”

If they found out she was lying, it would be her end. What did she have to do now? She would find Kassius. If they had registries and censuses and all that, Kassius was probably still alive and relaxing on his farm.

She kept walking slowly, drifting away from Walerius.

On the other hand, if they found no record and her neighbors corroborated, even unwillingly, telling them that she was not married, that was another way to end her.

The end of that could be even worse than being forced in marriage.

The tall pine trees were becoming more common and the forest denser.

She thought of running away, but the soldier's huge legs could catch her quickly, so she kept walking slowly, steadily, between the trees and fallen leaves, striding upward until she stopped behind a tree and watched Walerius walk down toward the clearing.

She stood behind the oak, looking at him, hoping he would be fooled to leave her, as her heartbeat raced. He kept walking. The plan was working.

Suddenly. He turned around.

“Woman?” he asked, looking around. “Woman, where are you?”

Alana stood still, holding her breath. Walerius walked back through the path, looking around. Then, he knelt on the floor, scanning through the space between the leaves like a hunter.

He knew how to track footprints.

He moved slowly, noticing that her footprints were missing, then he strode back, approaching where she was. He was close to her and stopped when he was parallel to the oak. Alana moved swiftly, to hide her body behind the wide tree-trunk. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. Alana felt her stomach churn inside. Maybe that was the time to run.

Instead, she held on to the oak and started climbing with her arms and feet. As she reached the first branch, she used her strength to pull up and clenched her teeth.

“Hey! Get down here!” Walerius yelled. “Get down here immediately!”

“Leave me alone,” Alana said, still climbing. The branches were small, as she climbed with her arms, she supported her feet over the lower branches, using them as a ladder. One of them broke with her foot, and she grabbed the trunk more earnestly and kept moving up.

“Come down now, or I’ll bring you down myself,” Walerius said, pointing at her with his calloused finger.

“I'm scared of you! Get away!”

“Scared of me?” He looked at her. “I've tried so hard to do everything right! Come on, do not play around. Let me get you to town and we'll settle the matter.”

“I'm scared it's the way you hit everything around you; I am afraid you will hurt me.”

“Trust me! I won't do any of that. Now get down before I really get mad.”

“I'm not getting down!”

He sighed. “Women,” he whispered, then he looked back up. “Fine. I will climb myself and get you.”

Alana clenched her teeth.

“Well, come and get me.”

He wrapped his arms around the tree and started climbing with the strength of his legs until he got to the first branch, which he grabbed with his hand. It vibrated, the red leaves fell and floated down into the ground. He made an effort, driving his feet up, and grabbed a branch that hung overhead. It broke with a click.

“Oh no...” She said, leading her hand up to her head and pretending to be dizzy. “I made a big mistake. I shouldn't have come here. I... I cannot get down.”

Walerius dropped to the ground, looking up. He could not climb.

“You stay there...” he said, pointing at her.

Alana stood slowly over the branch, hugging the tree and looking downward, as if vertigo had overwhelmed her.

“I'm going to fall,” she said.

“Stay right there... I'll bring help.”

“Please!” she screamed, as Walerius ran downhill and disappeared in the foliage. Then, Alana sighed and wiped the sweat off her forehead. She shivered, as the temperature was going down along with the sun. She looked around from her newfound watchtower. From there, the Queen of Heaven, Venus Agrimpaza, seemed to wink at her from above. She was the firstborn star, making way, once again, for the appearance of the Sons of Heaven. Underneath, she could see a faint red light, which seemed a bit stronger than usual. It was Mars, the avatar of Ares, which was rising above.

The Red Star was moving toward Venus, slowly. Maybe it could mean something. She thought she would ask Aranus whenever she got the chance. But now, she had to get down.

Then, she touched the inside of the pockets of her coat and took out the rope she had stolen. She held on to the tree and tied the rope around it. Then, she slid down slowly. She reached the ground safely and ran toward the village.

The sun was already hiding before the faraway hills, and the Sons of Heaven appeared, covering the heavens, and so did the Moon. She could even see the Milky Way, a trail of gods and sparkling jewels of sky, shining over the hills. In that darkness, below the faint light, she remembered the gods of Heaven were still above her.

Were they watching over? Did they even care about them? Was she also her child, as she called them father and mother sometimes?

She walked carefully through the trees, watching for the light of the moon. From there she could see the river Dyion, which reflected the light of the heavens as a perfect mirror. She followed closely, as the screams of the soldiers echoed in the distance. She had to get to the road, somehow, so she walked along the riverbank, sliding through the bushes until she could see what she was looking for.

From there, she saw the bridge. Torches were lit on each shore, and she thought she saw a soldier guarding it. She sighed, disappointed. It would not be wise to cross. The village looked as if a cloud of dread had been lit upon it. The roofs had all been damaged, and weak lanterns shone inside the rock houses, hiding the source of endless cries and moans. She did not want to think of what was going on in there.

Now, she had to walk all the way back or swim through. Swimming? Impossible. Then, she remembered there was a passage through one of the creeks, which branched out along the river. There, a few flat rocks stood over the water’s surface, and people walked over them as a shortcut.

She kept walking for minutes on end. Through her way, she heard a loud howl in the night. It might be a wolf. She prayed silently and kept walking close to the shore. Gods above, are any one of you listening? Father? Are you looking at me from the Hall of the Fallen?

What would her father think? She felt as if he was trying to say something. He would not want her to despair. No, as he had always said, they were put on the earth to fight battles and fight to the end. She could not give up.

When Alana reached the section of the creek, she realized the current had grown to cover it almost completely, and she could barely see the rocks in the water.

After removing her boots and holding them in one hand, she took a deep breath and jumped toward the first stone, polished by the crossing of a thousand feet and an eternal stream of water. She balanced her body and stood on one foot.

Then, Alana carefully stretched her left leg, feeling the cold water. She felt the rigidness of the rock and jumped onto that part. She failed miserably and dropped into the water like a ball of cast iron. She swallowed water and moved her arms and legs frantically, trying to hold on to one of the rocks.

But the current was strong and pulled her away; it dragged her across. As she gasped, trying hard to get her head over the water, panic engulfed her mind.

In the small instant she felt dry air over her again, she let out a scream.

Time seemed to slow down, when all of a sudden, she heard a splash around her. Someone had grabbed her. She clung to that body, desperate, and felt the cold rigidness of a metal armour. Water plunged inside her, her arms still wrestled the current, her heart pounded, and life passed through her mind.

Then, she felt dry air around her face. The man swam back to the shore, where he pressed on her upper stomach. Water splashed out of her mouth. She panted, in despair, as the figure above her seemed to take shape.

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It was a soldier, like any other, but his skin was extremely tan, the hair over his head ruffled and curly, his nose sharp, like an eagles' beak.

“You made so much noise you woke up everybody living a mile around.”

Alana coughed and shivered. She still felt miserable, as if she could not get the water out of her system.

“Wow,” she coughed again. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Nothing to thank. What were you doing here? Trying to run away?”

Alana coughed once again, incapable of controlling it. She gritted her teeth and watched her wet hair drip all over the grass.

“Come on.” The man approached her and tapped her on the back.

“Who are you?” she asked after a long sigh and through uncontrollable shivers.

“Just a soldier,” the man said, removing his coat of fur and giving it to her. She removed her blue hood, as it was soaked and felt like it weighted a ton, and put on the soldier’s coat. The hemp fabric of her tunic pressed against her skin, making her grit her teeth from the cold.

“You speak weird,” she muttered, shivering. “You’re not from the capital.”

“Well, not quite. I'm from a land next to the sea; Philisteea. My name is Apollos, if it’s of any help.”

“Ah. Never heard of it.”

“What? How is that possible? That is a great ancient land full of glorious citadels. You don't have schools here or what?”

“What's a school?”

“Where they teach you history, geography.”

“No, we learn from our parents and we do apprenticeships.”

“I see.” He scratched his beard.

“And you?” she asked him. “Where is your wife?”

“Back home.”

“Didn't you get one here?”

“I kind of don't really want one now.”

“Now that is different.”

“I try to avoid adultery.”

“Adulwhat?”

“And now... What about your husband?”

“Ah! Yes. He... I need to find him. I got lost in the forest, I was just planning to get back, I swear. I was not hiding, or anything.”

“Alright. What's his name?”

“Kassius. But he is not a soldier. He's a farmer. Before you ask; he is the son of a General, and there was a confusion. He lives here and must still be at his farm.”

Apollos raised an eyebrow.

“Is he a citizen?”

“Of course he is. The legitimate son of General Marius Filyusdpitar and the late Radina of Vharzia. a patrician, no less.”

“Oh.” Apollos seemed startled. “Well, let's go then, he must be waiting for you.”

“Yes.” She stood up and felt small rocks against her naked feet. She had lost her boots. She sighed.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Apollos asked.

She sighed.

“It’s alright. I like walking like this.”

“Do you really? Even in the dark.”

Alana shivered.

“Let’s just go.”

Alana swallowed and looked at the sky again. She thanked the gods. Even though her life had become the darkest nightmare, she knew, for some reason, they had not abandoned her. Maybe what her father said was true. She needed to keep fighting on. And what was a fight if it was not challenging.

“I am on patrol,” Apollos said. “So I'll leave you with someone else.”

Alana was startled. Apollos seemed unique among those mad soldiers. Maybe because he was not a native Itruschian who felt like the entire world could be changed by them, and in turn, that the world owed them everything.

“Eh, Apollos. You know what? I am afraid. You know, the soldiers are strange, cruel and...”

“Cruel? You haven't seen anything.”

“But you know what I mean. Would you mind walking me to the place?”

“No. But only if we’re done with this quickly.”

Alana guided him back to the village. It seemed like a cemetery; as the roofs were partly gone, mostly charred, and faint lights shone from the windows. Alana heard subtle cries but chanted in her mind not to pay attention to what was going on behind the walls. That would be too painful.

Why had she been so lucky? She felt guilty. But maybe the gods had a mission for her to fulfil. She cleared her throat and looked at Apollos.

She saw a patrol of soldiers walking around the village opposite to them, carrying their full armours and long spears.

“Ave,” Apollos said, saluting.

They returned the salute. Alana sighed as they had passed them. Soon, after smashing her toes against a few rocks and roots and holding in the tears, they reached the gates of the house of Marius Filyusdyapitar, guarded with a fence of iron and statues of the Bear Goddess on top, as well as coiled snakes going down the barriers.

“So this is General Marius’ farm. I wish I could get something like that,” Apollos said.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Arcturus started to bark in the dead of the night, so loud that it was almost painful to her ears. Suddenly, a figure walked toward them, holding a terracotta lamp that barely gave his figure away. Alana lowered her head, covering it under the hood.

“Who’s there?” spewed the voice, as he stood in front of the barrier. Alana noticed the boots and the plate armour beneath the red overcoat.

“Is the master’s son here?” Apollos asked.

“Who is asking?”

“His wife,” Alana said confidently. She raised her voice and yelled at the darkness before her. “Kassius, Kassius, love, I’m already here!”

“Cut it out. There’s people sleeping here. You say you’re his wife?” the guarding soldier asked. As if the dog was not loud enough.

“Of course I am.” Alana lifted her chin, trying to hide her trembling hands. “Now, call Master Kassius quickly or I’ll make sure they give you a good whipping.”

“Servant woman!” the soldier screamed, looking back. Kassius’ servants must have been there, doing something. “Someone’s here asking for Master Kassius?”

“Who is it?” the woman said.

“She says she’s his wife?”

Alana crossed her fingers. She regretted not having thought of that situation.

“Wife? He has no wife!”

Alana felt her heart turn around in her chest. Apollos turned toward her with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, no, no!” The soldier behind the fence smiled, revealing rotting teeth behind the light. “You’ve got yourself in some serious trouble.”

Arcturus barked more aggressively.

Alana turned around to run, but Apollos grabbed her by the arms. “Where do you think you’re going?” he said.

“I… I have to look for my husband.”

“What husband?” The guard behind the fence laughed. “Do you think we are stupid, little wench?”

Alana swallowed but kept her chin up. Her eyes wandered from side to side.

“He's... Yes. He's my husband!”

“You know what we do to people who impersonate citizens?” The soldier put his ugly nose through the iron bars.

Alana felt her tongue get stuck.

“Now, we'll take you to the barracks,” Apollos said, as he tied her hands behind her back with a rope used to arrest criminals. She pulled her hands away, but the soldier’s grip was stronger.

“Please no. There must be a mistake.”

“The only mistake was trusting you,” Apollos frowned. His face had completely transformed.

Alana tried to run away, but Apollos quickly pulled her and yanked her close. She had nowhere to run.

“You'll see.”

The barking became louder. The guard turned around.

“What the devil is happening to that mad dog! I'm gonna put it out of its misery!”

“He's mine, let him out, you'll see he’ll recognize me!” Alana cried in desperation, her bound arms were starting to fall asleep.

“Are you insane? Or do you take me for a fool? I would not let that dog out even if they gave me a pot of gold. Alright, little wench, behave.” The guard looked at Apollos. “Now you take her to the camp, and there, they will teach her a lesson.”

“Come on,” Apollos said, almost dragging her.

“Let me go!” she cried.

Suddenly, they heard a sound coming from the trees nearby. A silhouette emerged from the top of the trees. It was a slim man, wearing a dark coat.

“Who is that!” said the soldier. “This is curfew time. Now get over here and identify yourself.”

“You who do you think you are?” the figure responded. Alana recognized Kassius' voice immediately, and the light soon was cast upon his youthful face. He had a mark on his forehead, like smudged ink.

“I am asking you!” the soldier asked.

“Darling! I'm glad you came,” Alana said. “They don't believe I'm your wife.”

“Why are you doing this to my wife? This is unacceptable. I am Kassius, son of General Marius Filyusdyapitar. Now, let my lady go.”

“And what are you doing so late? Do you not understand that there is a curfew going on?” the guard at the gate said with an ugly frown.

“It is my understanding that the curfew only applied to non-citizens,” Kassius said with a forced Itruschian accent. “And I was just taking a walk through my property.”

The guards frowned.

“How do we know it is you?”

“Call any servants,” Kassius said confidently. “They will confirm it’s me.”

The soldier immediately turned back and shouted: “Fat woman!”

The old servant lady appeared, seeming restless and annoyed.

“What is happening here!” she asked, frowning.

“Is this your master?” the soldier pointed at Kassius with his gloved hand.

“Aye, that’s him.”

“And most importantly, is this his wife?”

Alana noticed Kassius was gesturing to the woman so that she would not blow up their protection.

“Emmm...”

“Is she his wife or not,” the soldier insisted, his saliva splashing about.

“Of course she is,” the woman muttered, lowering her eyes.

“Then why did you say it was not her!” the guard snapped.

“Because... I thought she was...”

“What did you think?” said the soldier, impatiently.

“Sire, honestly, I've been drinking too much lately.”

“Be careful with wine, woman, or we'll put a restriction on it, and if you don’t follow it, you’ll get a severe punishment.”

The soldier opened the gate without changing his expression at all, making a space for them.

“Come in, sir.”

Apollos untied Alana. She sighed in relief and shook her arms about, and she looked at him for an instant as if to say thank you. Although he had threatened her, there was something decent in him. His expression was stiff. Alana smiled at him and followed Kassius into the field.

“By Venus, you saved me,” Alana said as they were away from the soldiers, then she sighed.

“Well, good thing I was still around the property,” he said, shaking his head. “And good idea on your side.”

“How come nobody found you?”

“I've told you, sigils work,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, you've told me that. Anyway. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I couldn’t let them hurt you, those...” He turned back and stared at the soldiers with disdain.

“But many suffered a fate worse than I could. Kassius! This is horrible! How can something like this be allowed to happen?”

Kassius frowned. He clenched his teeth.

“I hate this. I hate part of myself. I can’t believe this is happening.” He swallowed. He stared at her, eyes wide open. “Ala, did you see my grandfather? The Elder?”

“Yes, Kassius. I saw him.”

Kassius sighed. “He is the only one who would know what to do.”

“The soldiers were behind him. He’s still alive, but they’re trying to force him to say things. Kassius...”

“Makes sense, if the people of Adachia don’t have a guide; even the women, they will kill anything that looks remotely like an Itruschian soldier whenever they get a chance. And believe me… they will.”

“Kassius, two soldiers were standing next to him, heavily armed. He looked downtrodden, maybe tortured. And… he said something you will find interesting.”

They entered Kassius’ villa in the dark, and he took an old lantern that still hung from the doorway.

“Keep your voice low,” he said. “Speak in Gadalian, not in the common tongue.”

“Sure…” she whispered.

He guided her to a small room inside the wooden house, very different from the small bricks that constructed round Gadalian houses. There was a bed on the side, made of wood, and dozens of magical signs hung from the walls.

“What did Aranus say?” Kassius asked, on his haunches, lighting a fire in the chimney.

“He said… that we should bend our knees until the Sun of Ares sets on us, and its sword is found.”

“The sword?” Kassius raised an eyebrow, bewildered. He fed the fire with dry branches from a basket next to the door. “Put that cloak of yours here to dry and put something dry on. Go change in my wardrobe if you want. Quickly, I don’t want you to fall sick,” he said to her. She put it on a chair and moved it next to the chimney.

[https://i.ibb.co/bs5xRJV/Alana-and-Kassius-Copy.png]

“So, the sun and the sword,” Alana continued, entering the wardrobe. She peeked through the hanging racks and found dresses that had belonged to Kassius’ late mother. She found one made of hemp, white on top with red embroiders descending from the collar into the hips where it turned into two stylized black bears, one on each side. Beautiful, comfortable, and protective, although it smelled a bit like old moss. “This is perfect,” she said to herself. She found a pair of thick winter boots and felt relieved when her feet were protected again, then she walked out. “You know about the legend, don’t you, Kasha?” she asked from behind the door.

“Of course I do, Alana the Brave, that looks good on you, by the way.”

“Thanks,” she smiled faintly. “So, I was telling you, your gramps said… the sword would be found.”

Kassius sat on his bed, with the light of the chimney reflecting on his green eyes.

“Then if it is true…” He sighed and knelt his head down. “I just cannot believe what just happened.”

“We have to do something! Kasha, I’m here, safe, with you. Irema has been given as a wife. As a slave, rather, and Gitara has been locked away. She is pregnant! Kasha! This cannot be allowed to happen. The gods must help. They must!”

Kassius took a deep breath.

“I feel something. Something in my heart,” he muttered.

“Alright. That is something. A bit weird, though.”

“Ala,” He lifted his head. “What if the people who are meant to find it… is us?”

Alana said nothing.

“Kassius. I just wish to liberate my friends and the people I knew. My father died by their hands, and so many more. Kassius, I was with Badratz when it happened. I saw him die. I saw Atila, the big cadet from the army, die in front of me.”

“Badratz?” Kassius moaned. He shook his head. “How could they? What did he do?”

“Being Gadalian. That was his crime.”

Kassius clenched his teeth. He peeled his eyes, astonished.

“All dead. All… dead.”

“All the men that could pose a threat. Only small children were left alive.”

He sat cross-legged on his bed, his eyes sparkled, wide open, his thin face changed into fear and awe.

“Why?” he said to the wind, shaking his head.

“Kassius, the gods can’t let this go unpunished. If only we could do something to protect my people.”

“Then, Alana, the sword must be found.”

“I pray that it will. But...”

Kassius stared at her.

“Kassius?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

Alana felt like a boulder was being put over her shoulders, like a yoke of iron and wood. She was alive. She was free, as of that moment. What if the gods had put her in that place at that moment for a reason?

“Yes,” he said.

“And then what? Go around, parading it?” she asked.

“Yes, let them spread the word, go East, to the tribes who still live on the steppe, go North, to the legionnaires among our people. This would go against my own father, my own Empire, but it is the true will of my heart. I can feel it, Alana. I can feel its energy drawing me toward this.”

“I would say the same thing.”

“But first, let’s find the sword. And if the gods have chosen us, believe me, we will.”