Carefully she wiped away the last vestiges of her tears, staring at herself a long moment in the polished hand mirror her serving lady had
brought. No, she thought firmly, no traces of my anguish for Torinius to see. As the sound of the litter bearers grew louder in the hall,
she brushed back a last wandering tendril of pale hair, plastering a smile on her lips to greet them.
There was one brief, but sharp, wrench of her ankle as they transferred her from the bed. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a second, then
shot a glance to one side, hoping Polonius had not noticed. A bit of sweat broke out on her brow from the pain, but she managed not to lose
the set smile she'd locked into place.
Polonius following closely behind, she was carried into Torinius' large dining hall. He was standing by an open window, hands clasped behind his back as
she entered. She wondered what he was thinking as he gazed over the hills in the direction she knew Maximus had taken. Her smile faded, but reappeared quickly
as her host turned.
~~~~~~~
Cicero watched the huge white clouds mounding in the sky, his eyes then following a hawk circling high over a distant crag. They were heading steadily northeast and in a day or two would begin seeing mountains. He wiped his right palm down his thigh then, switching the reins, wiped his left. His hands were sweaty with excitement. "Gen...," he began, but then remembered Maximus' careful remonstrance that he not use that customary title when addressing him. Licking his lips, he tried again. "My Lord, how many days do you think until we reach the high pass?"




