Varinia and I busied ourselves repairing and replacing burnt garments, cushions and hangings from my house. We had a break in the weather and it didn't snow for almost three weeks, which allowed the builders and other workmen to make a huge advance in repairing the villa. All the external repairs were done and they were working indoors by the time it snowed again. "There," Varinia announced with satisfaction, "that's the last of the bed linens." She folded a pillowcase and set it onto a small pile of similar pieces. She glanced up at me, "What's next?"

I finished repairing the hem of a shirt that belonged to my steward - he had ripped it on a nail working on re-panelling my herb room - and put it down. "I'm not sure," I answered, looking around at the neat stacks of folded, clean garments, bed linen, shirts - everything including underpants - that sat piled on the chests and even on the floor in the large bedchamber I was using. "I think we've fixed everything that was damaged - except what was too burnt."

"So - we're done?"

We grinned at one another, pleased by our achievement. It had seemed like a mountain of scorched, filthy, ripped cloth only a few weeks earlier. I nodded, "I believe so. We should celebrate."

We both climbed to our feet, and, driven by the satisfaction of a job well done, hugged one another happily. "Maybe we'll be able to move back home sooner than we thought," she voiced what I was also thinking.

"Maybe so," I agreed, stepping back. I glanced down at my somewhat rumpled but serviceable clothing - small sized man's shirt over my usual somewhat tight trousers, the shirt long enough that it reached to my knees even when belted around my waist as it was now. "I could use some new clothing, but I have enough to get by. I can always purchase some things in Emerita Augusta once the Spring thaw has set in and we can travel the roads again."

For now, the roads were either a long series of muddy sinkholes or a frozen expanse of mud ruts depending upon the weather. Neither was conducive to travel as far as Emerita, either by wagon or on horseback. Besides, even it if was relatively mild weather when we set off, it could change to freezing cold in less than a mile or two up the road, and we'd be stranded in snow. By the time anyone would reach us, we'd be frozen until Spring. Also dead. "I can wait until there's no further threat of snow just to get some dresses and shirts."

Varinia shook her head at my practicality, "Ma'am, you have trunks full of lovely dresses and clothing - just no new boys' clothes - admit it!"

We giggled. It was the truth. I much preferred the serviceable wardrobe of a Patrician or even less grand young boy to those of a Patrician woman of any age. "I'll borrow some clothes from one of Decimus' soldiers, then - lots of them are small as me."

"Not the General," Varinia scoffed with an exagerrated eye roll.

"No, not the General," I agreed. "He's not small by any stretch of the imagination." Of course, my maid, whose sense of propriety and humor runs much more to the bawdy side than my own, decided to make something else out of that remark.

"Oh, I'm sure he's not small at all!"

"Varinia!" I snapped in mock annoyance and some real embarrassment, "You shouldn't speak of General Maximus that way. It's not proper." I scowled at her, although it was difficult to maintain the strict expression on my face when she was sketching imagined dimensions of his body parts in the air and making lewd faces. Finally, I laughed along with her, shaking my head. "Pax, pax - I give - I have to agree, he's not small that way either!"

She stopped making air-pictures of broad shoulders, narrow hips and large endowments. Leaning towards me, she asked in a conspiratorial hiss, "How not-small IS he?"

I gave her a shove, laughing, still shaking my head at her, but finally was forced to answer, "Not small at all," which just set her off further. "Varinia, stop!"

"Big as a horse?" she was asking, "Bigger? Big as the old red bull we used to have?"

"Lord, no," I exclaimed, "Rufus was huge - nothing like that - why - it'd be inhuman!"

Still, we rocked back and forth on my bed laughing like two idiot girls. It felt good. When we had enough silliness, we were both tired, but it was a good kind of tired. We sighed happily and went in search of something else to do.

When we emerged into the Atrium, Varinia just a step behind me because she had stopped to close the door to my bed chamber, there was the subject of our jests standing in his opened front door, peering out into the sunny but chill afternoon. "What is it?" I enquired, moving to stand by his side and look out.

"It appears," he said in wonderment, "that we have guests." He turned, looking past me, to find one of his former officers. "Gaius, find out who that is - it seems someone is either lost or coming to visit us without us knowing about it."

The younger man wrapped his cloak about him and set off down the portico steps and out to the front circular area where several large traveling wagons were just rumbling to a stop. He spoke to the driver of the first one, and came swiftly back inside. "Sir - it's visitors - a Lady Caecilia Flavia from Rome. She says she's related to a friend of yours."

Maximus looked mystified, then he apparently recalled the lady and looked merely confused for a moment before urging several servants out to help the people down and inside.

"Who is she?" I asked, not having heard the name before.

"Empress Lucilla's second cousin," he told me, looking stunned. "And a more intrusive busybody you'll never meet. I wonder what stroke of bad luck brought her here and in the middle of winter too?"

We were about to find out.

A tallish, rather dour-looking Roman lady was being escorted up the front steps by the steward. She was fashionably pale-skinned, had somewhat bulbous brown eyes and large red circles of rouge on her cheeks. Her hair, which was dressed in an overly fanciful concoction of braids, pleats, folds and poufs, was deep red. I don't mean auburn - I mean red. Like the inside of a strawberry or a melon. Surely, I thought to myself, nobody was ever born with hair that color. Varinia nudged me, so I knew she was thinking along those same lines.

"Maximus Meridius!" Lady Caecilia called out as she neared the top step, "I've come to visit all the way from Rome! We've just been in that quaint town they call the capital of this province - Emerita Augusta - terrible place - no theater at all in the winter and hardly any culture."

Maximus answered with some polite murmur that I couldn't quite hear. He was still looking stunned - as if someone had conked him with a large brick and he was concussed.

Lady Caecilia went on, speaking right over his words of greeting, "I've come with news from Lucilla, and I've brought my daughter, Flavia Iunior with me - I understand you've need of a suitable Patrician wife. Flavia should be just the ticket." With that, a very tall, very slim woman appeared behind her mother - an exact duplicate of her except definitely younger - even to the overly-done hair. Caecilia took hold of her daughter's arm and propelled her forward so that the girl practically galloped up the remaining steps from the momentum. "Meet my daughter," she added as an afterthought.

Young Flavia landed almost on top of Maximus, who was forced to grasp both her upper arms to keep her from falling down with the force of her sudden stop. "My lady," he greeted her. "Er - welcome to my home - won't you come inside?"

He turned, saw the amused look on my face and gave me a fierce scowl. Behind me, I heard Varinia's barely disguised snort of laughter and was hard put not to laugh out loud myself. He just looked like he'd rather be anyplace but there. And the younger lady was clinging to his arm like he was the God of War come to life to save her from the hordes of whomevers out in the big wide world.

"Oh, General Maximus!" she trilled in a voice that would shatter crystal, "You're even handsomer than they said!"

"Uhm, er. . .thank you, I think," he stuttered, glancing over the top of her braided, poufed head at me like I was going to help him. I merely gave him a shrug and polite smile. His new bride, eh, I thought to myself. We'll just see about that.

And in came Lady Caecilia, trailing furlined cloaks, heavy silk and wool garments and equally heavy fumes of gardenia perfume in her wake. The man who had been escorting her up the steps looked like he was about to be overcome by flower scent. He hastily handed her over to Maximus and beat an awkward retreat back out the door to the fresher air.

"And who is this - your son?" Caecilia was asking in her voice that echoed through the entire house.

I glanced around and realized it was myself she was asking about. Varinia snarled under her breath but a hand on her arm stopped any words before they could come past her lips. I wanted to hear what Decimus was going to respond to that question. Did I really look that much like a boy?

"M-my son?" Maximus stammered, then realized who she meant, apparently, because his face turned dark red and he wouldn't meet my eyes. "Why, no- this is Lady Joanna - our neighbor and temporary houseguest."

Before I could absorb the meaning of that rather terse description of who and what I was, Lady Caecilia was advancing upon me. I was assaulted by her voice and her perfume until my head spun. She peered at me like a vulture examining its future dinner. "Lady Joanna, is it? Temporary guest, you say? I hope you still have room for us, General." Apparently finding me wanting, she whirled - almost smacking me in the face with the ends of one of her heavy shawls - and marched back to his side.

"Oh, no," he was hastening to reassure her, still glancing at me for aid.

I folded my arms and leant casually against the marble wall behind me, legs crossed so my brown leather boots showed under the hem of my belted shirt. I noticed the younger woman eyeing my boy's clothing with astonishment, and when she saw that I had caught her staring, she gave me a theatrical sneer that made me grin. "I thought that was your son, too, my lord," she announced to Maximus, "she doesn't look too much like a lady."

Another snarl from Varinia and this time, I just forestalled any retort from her by bursting into laughter. "Welcome to Hispania, ladies," I said to them, then turned, my heavy braid swinging as I flipped it over one shoulder. "Come, Varinia, I'm sure we have something more pressing to do than this."

"Well!" I heard from behind me, but wasn't sure which of the two harpies it was - they both sounded alike. I must confess, I left Decimus to deal with them both. I didn't feel at all guilty about it either.

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