“Better than sitting around at home weaving cloth and ducking Empress Plotina’s good advice. Besides, I can do some good here. I’ve only been traveling with the army for a day, and I can already tell you your supply trains could use an overhaul. Do you know your native auxiliaries don’t get the same ration as Roman legionaries? I don’t know if it’s supposed to be that way or if your supply officers are cheating them, but I’m going to speak to Trajan.”

Vix sputtered. “You’re out of your mind if you think that bastard you married will let you traipse around with us common legionaries!”

“Who says Hadrian needs to know?” Sabina said airily. “He’ll eat with his officers and sleep with his aide and dance attendance on the Emperor. I doubt we’ll see each other more than once a day once this march gets underway. If I’m going to see a war, I plan on seeing it properly—on foot, and on the same level as you.”

“And you thought I’d be grateful for the chance to be your guide?” Vix turned his back and started tugging at the laces of his breastplate. “You have no shame.”

She grinned. “I’m glad you remembered.”

“After everything you—” Vix struggled out of the breastplate, dropping it on the ground beside his helmet. “After the way you used me five years back, you really think I’d let you stay here with me?”

“Apparently I’d have to pay a tax to your four friends out there for the privilege,” Sabina amended. “According to your friend Julius, anyway. Though he might be fibbing. He already told me some long yarn about being descended from Julius Caesar—”

“Get out!”

“If you want.” She rose, brushing at the mud on her hem.

“You want fun with the unwashed soldiers, you can find someone else,” Vix sneered. His ears still got bright red when he was angry, Sabina noted with interest. “There’s always some smelly optio willing to share his bedroll with a whore.”

“I doubt it will come to that,” said Sabina, unruffled. “If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll go back to the baggage train and get a good night’s sleep. I understand legions start early, and I’ve a mind to try walking the first leg. I may only be a legate’s wife with soft feet, but surely I can keep pace with you legionaries since I’m not burdened down with a pack and two fence poles.”

Vix stared at her.

Sabina picked up the dirty sheepskin she’d decided to use for a cloak instead of the fine wool palla that would probably just get her robbed once outside the sheltered circle of the baggage train and the officer quarters. “Are you going to let me by, Vix?”