By the time I finally stepped out of the tent, I scarcely remembered how I had gotten there.
The child wailed in my arms, tiny fists trembling beneath the bloodstained linen we had managed to wrap around him. His cries were strong, miraculously so, but every sound felt like another blade twisting into my chest.
Inside the tent, his mother lay exactly where we had left her.
Still and silent, her eyes staring blankly toward the canvas ceiling, long after the life had drained from them. Her final words still refused to leave me.
Choose me. I wish to live.
I closed my eyes.
We had known before we ever made the incision that it would've been a miracle if she survived. She had already lost too much blood. Neither Livia nor I had spoken it aloud, but we had understood that the moment she bled some more, the choice had been taken away from her.
A fresh chorus of horns shattered the morning sun.
Legionaries hurried through carrying stretchers laden with wounded men while apprentices rushed between tents with baskets of bandages, water and herbs. The air was thick with shouted orders, frightened horses and the metallic scent of blood.
I should have been helping.
Instead, I stood frozen on the spot. The infant pressed against my chest as he searched instinctively for a mother who would never hold him.
A son.
Gen finally had his heir.
"Domina."
The voice startled me from my thoughts.
I turned to find one of Marcus's legionaries had approached, helmet tucked beneath his arm.
"We must move."
He glanced toward the northern edge of the encampment, where the distant sounds of battle were already beginning to carry on the wind.
"The enemy is nearly upon us," he bit out, his gaze falling briefly to the child in my arms. "It is no longer safe here."
I turned back toward the tent just as Livia stepped outside.
Her face was drawn with exhaustion, streaked with blood and sweat, yet her eyes remained steady as they met mine.
"Go, domina," she said firmly. "Take yourself, and that child to safety. I shall remain here and tend to the camp."
"Livia—"
She seized my shoulders, giving me a sharp shake.
"For fuck's sake, listen for once," she cut me off, her voice cracking with urgency. "You will do far more good by keeping yourself and that child alive than by dying beside us. Go."
The infant stirred against my chest, letting out another plaintive cry.
I nodded, tears spilling freely now.
"Thank you, Livia," I whispered, my voice trembling. "For everything."
She offered me a tired smile.
"We shall meet again, domina."
"We shall."
She squeezed my arm one last time, taking her look at the child in my arms, before heading toward the medical tent.
I stood there for only a heartbeat longer before tightening my hold on the child and running toward the waiting escort, praying that Livia's certainty would prove stronger than my fear.
Drawing a slow, steady breath to calm the panic threatening to overwhelm me, I turned back to the legionary waiting nearby. He stood perfectly still, as if he was waiting me to refuse.
Instead, I nodded.
"Lead us to safety."
Relief flickered over his face.
"At once, domina."
Quickly, I shrugged Marcus's heavy cloak from my shoulders and wrapped it carefully around the infant, securing the folds tightly across my chest until it formed into a makeshift sling. The child settled against me almost immediately, his tiny body pressed close enough that I could feel the rapid flutter of his heartbeat beneath the layers of wool.
I rested a hand gently over his back.
"I will get you to safety," I whispered. "I promise."
The legionary led me through the chaos of the encampment, to where several horses already stood saddled and waiting.
He mounted first before offering me his hand.
"Quickly."
With the baby held securely against my chest, I swung into the saddle behind him. The moment i had settled, he dug his heels into the horse's flanks.
The animal surged forward.
We burst from the encampment at a gallop, plunging into the forest as the distant blare of Roman horns faded behind us.
Branches whipped overhead while the horse thundered along the narrow woodland path, every stride jolting through my body, silently thanking Marcus for insisting that I learn to ride.
He was preparing me for the day he had hoped would never come.
The horse thundered through the forest, its hooves pounding against the earth as branches whipped overhead.
I tightened my hold around the child, one hand shielding his tiny head beneath Marcus's cloak while the other clung desperately to the saddle.
Behind us came the unmistakable sound of more horses.
Not one, but many.
The legionary glanced over his shoulder, and I felt his entire body tense.
He let out a string of curses in Latin.
"What is it?" I shouted over the wind.
"They have found us."
My heart lurched, as the pounding of hooves grew louder behind us, reminding me of war drums, echoing through the earth.
Louder and louder, they've gone far too close.
The legionary hauled sharply on the reins, forcing our horse onto a narrower woodland path.
"Listen to me carefully, domina," he said through the winds. "If anything happens, keeping riding straight ahead. Do not turn. Do not look back."
I stared at him.
"Do not stop until you find another Roman patrol guarding the southern road. Ride until you see our standards."
"And you?"
He drew his sword. "I will slow them down."
"No, I could not!"
"There are too many."
I twisted in the saddle, and through the trees, I caught glimpses of them.
There were at least a dozen Briton riders behind us, their cloaks streamed behind them as they urged their horses onward. The distance between us shrank with terrifying speed.
The legionary looked back one final time, before something hissed through the air.
I screamed, as an arrow struck him on his neck.
His body jerked violently.
One moment he was upright, then the sword slipped from his hand. His grip on the reins loosened, before toppling from the saddle, crashing heavily onto the forest floor.
The horse screamed and kept running.
For one terrible moment, I thought it would bolt straight into the trees.
So I threw my weight forward, one arm locked around the child, the other reaching for the reins. My fingers closing around the leather just as the horse lurched beneath me.
I nearly lost my seat, I didn't know what I was doing, but I held on regardless.
The wind tearing through my hair as I dragged hard on the reins, trying to slow it, trying to keep us from crashing headlong into the undergrowth.
Behind us, the sound of pursuit was still coming.
There were too many riders, and they were getting too close.
I looked back once, just long enough to see the legionary's body lying motionless on the forest floor, his blood dark against the earth.
Then I forced myself to face forward again, only for my eyes to widen in shock when I saw who was waiting a good distance ahead of me.
I yanked hard on the reins, causing the horse to screech as it skidded to a stop. The sudden noise making the child in my arms burst into tears. I tightened my hold around him at once, rocking him gently as I tried to soothe him.
It was Gen.
He stood at the edge of the path in full armor, a heavy cloak hanging from his shoulders, his helmet tucked beneath one arm, the torc at his throat marking him as a Briton lord. For one stunned moment, I could only stare at him, unable to understand how he could be here, when he should be fighting Marcus, when he should be leading his army.
Then his gaze fell on the child in my arms.
Something in his expression changed.
He took a slow step forward, as though he were afraid I might vanish if he moved too quickly.
"I thought my eyes had deceived me," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion as his lips curled into a cruel smirk. "You are riding to me, with my son in your arms."