I ducked that question. Mirah knew she wouldn’t be joining me in Germania until I was established; that had long been settled—but she’d wanted me to take Antinous with me, and I’d refused, and the subject had become sore. “Another active campaign,” I’d said just before I left, gathering my scattered tunics from the bed and stuffing them into my pack. “He’s had enough of that for the time being.”

“He’s almost eleven,” she’d argued, bringing my spare sandals and whetstones to pack. “Boys that age need their fathers.”

“I’ve told you and told you, he’s not my son!”

“But you want one. Men want sons—I thought you’d want to keep him with you, since I haven’t… well, two girls…”

“Two good girls.” I dropped my load of tunics, leaning down to pick up Dinah and toss her in the air until she shrieked. Chaya regarded me from the floor with big dark eyes, edging back when I reached over to stroke the soft down of her little head. She was still wary of me, the way I blew in and out of her life every few months with my clattering sword and jingling armor.

“They are good girls,” Mirah said a little more brightly, but then she hesitated. “Vix, if the Emperor, doesn’t recover—”

“He’ll recover.” Any alternative was unthinkable.

“If he doesn’t. You’ll still go to Dacia?”

“Why wouldn’t I? My own legion, I’ve waited all my life for that.”

“Serving Rome,” she pointed out. “You’ll be serving Rome, not Trajan.”

“Trajan is Rome.” I kissed her out-thrust chin.

“Not forever,” she’d said, but I bent myself back to bundling my belongings for the sea voyage. There was room in the Emperor’s trireme for me on the journey back to Rome; I’d disembark somewhere along the way, hire horses, and proceed on north to Germania. The rest of the detachment from the Tenth would follow on a later ship out of Parthia and meet me there. Once I had my legion reunited and in order, I’d send for Mirah and the girls and plan my campaign into Dacia. “Back and forth along the Empire like a message case,” she said wearily, but she’d waved me good-bye with a brave face when I took ship from Antioch three days ago. I’d watched her neat little figure diminish as the watery gap widened. When she was just a speck, with the upright young spear that was Antinous standing at her side, and the little girls in her arms no longer visible at all, I kissed a corner of her blue scarf still wrapped around my arm under the greave.