Painted Blue

As we ventured beyond the outskirts of my father's farm, I caught my breath.

"Are you alright miss?" asked the legionnaire riding by my side. I nodded smiling at him. My heart raced and I felt a thrill come over my. I was free. I had left my home for the first time and felt a certain freedom come over my as the markers passed us by.

If I had known this was the last time I would see my beloved home, I am sure I would have lingered longer that morning and given the whole home and its inhabitants a proper goodbye. Especially, to my mother, whom I had brushed off as she gave final instructions on how to act before a cursory kiss farewell and safe trip.

When we left, it was a warm afternoon, but the nip of cooler weather promised colder lands would meet us sooner than anticipated.

I pulled a shawl from a trunk and threw it around my shoulders as I walked to the warm fire a few evenings into our trip. It seemed that it would be a cold Saturnalia this year. The captain in charge offered me a bowl of warm soup as we hungered around the fire. He smiled ruefully as I squatted in my long dress next to the others. We had had a fight on the first evening when I wanted to sit with the men at the fire instead of waiting in my tent until he brought me dinner. He finally gave in when I pulled a sword from a nearby soldier's belt and threatened him with it. I think he was more afraid I would hurt myself with it than he was afraid of me threatening him with it. Though I plan to start sparring with the men the next time they practice.

The next morning I was caught by the site of the tree next to my tent. The tree was full of pears and covered in shimmering frost. Sparkles of sunlight glinted from the tiny crystals of ice brought by the purple winged got, Aquilo.

The men broke the magic by gathering as many frosted pears as possible.

"I will make pear wine and stewed pears tonight," whispered one of the men as he finished filling an extra barrel with them. I smiled, slowly the men were warming to me.

I quickly earned a healthy respect from the men as I convinced an archer to give me one of his bows and a quiver of arrows. I started shooting for the pot shortly afterwards and they were amazed that, not only could I shoot, but I could shoot from horseback.

Of course there were a few men that despised me. I was not conforming to their expectations of what a woman should be. But a few of the men, especially the captain, were pleased.

"You will make the captain very happy. He prefers a woman that can ride with him," the young captain said one evening after eating the rabbit I had shot.

I smiled, "do you know my betrothed? What is he like? Is he smart? Is he kind? Would he really be proud of who I am? I can keep house as well, but if he wanted me to follow him into the field, I would be very happy to do that." The captain smiled.

"Yes, I know him. He is a bit cocky, but he is a good man." At that the other men chuckled. "He would much prefer a woman that could keep him company than a woman that would prefer to sit at home and play on a harp or sew."

I felt a thrill of hope. Maybe I wouldn't be cast to the side and ignored, doomed to waste away as a forgotten wife of an adventuring captain of the Roman army.