Thread: Ancient Rome (blushing-rose and casketslinger)

This man knew her mother. Karin's breath caught in her throat. As coincidences went, this was a significant one. She had been caught, taken from her home, led over the continent and finally ended up in the heart of the Roman empire, only to meet somebody who spoke her mother's name with familiarity. The probabilities of this meeting were minuscule. And he was asking about her father, something that Karin had ceased to do when she was small. She had never been given any answers about him and in the end had given up, thinking of him instead as an abstract concept rather than a living breathing person. She noticed that the man was focusing on her intently. Could it be that he knew her father? Or, stranger still, could it be that.... In fact, now that she thought about it, the chances were almost impossible. Ever suspicious, she eyed him distrustfully. What motive could he have for pretending to know her family? Was it so that she would submit to him with less protest? He spoke Gaelic, true, but that could be explained by his years as a soldier on foreign campaigns. He asked her name, but before she could answer she heard Faustus returning. She did not need the older man's warning to know to keep her mouth closed. She already regretted betraying her understanding of Latin, although at least it made it easier to explain why she was able to follow their orders without difficulty. She also did not trust the young man, and felt like the General's treatment of her had already given him reason to dislike her. She hoped that if she stayed quiet he would forget about her, or at the very least assume that her Latin had been a parroted phrase rather than the signs of a fluent speaker. There was little chance of him forgetting about her, however. His eyes narrowed as he saw her sitting in the main wagon, and she flinched back from him as he gestured to her wildly. She took solace in the fact that the powerful soldier sat by her. If his attitude to this point had been anything to go by, he would not let anything happen to her. She would have to be careful of this cousin when they reached their destination and the General left her alone. She watched silently as the older man grabbed the packet from Faustus, who huffed and left them to it. She took it hesitantly when it was offered to her. Inside were a pair of leather sandals and a simple sand coloured tunic. The shoes she slipped on easily, but the tunic gave her pause. She did not want to expose herself again and yet she could not put the dress on without removing the robe. In the end she took a deep breath, avoided eye contact and shrugged herself out of the robe. It was difficult to dress as the wagon began to move but in a few short minutes she had covered herself sufficiently well. She brushed some dust off the silver cloak and proffered it back to the man that had lent it to her. The new tunic was fine, much finer than anything she had ever owned. Simple and slightly drab, the material was nevertheless soft and the belt helped it to fit closely to her shrunken frame. He asked for her name a second time, and this time she obliged, switching back to Latin to mirror his words. My mother called me Karin, master. I never knew my father. He might or might not know her family, but she was not prepared to let her guard down just yet. Might I know yours, sir?