34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

M arcus Fabius Varro

“Can you teach me how to drive Jenny?” I’ve been wanting a turn at the wheel since the other day when Laura pushed on the pedal and the vehicle scooted forward as if by magic.

Laura’s brow furrows. “Now? We’ve got a house to move into.”

I shrug, trying to hide my eagerness. “What better time to learn? We’ll get there faster if we both know how to drive.”

She sighs, but I catch the glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “That made absolutely no sense, gladiator,” she gripes as she gets out of her seat and walks over to my side, motioning for me to trade places. “Fine, but if you crash our only mode of transportation, you’re carrying everything to the cottage on your back.”

I grin, hopping into the driver’s seat. “Agreed.”

Laura slides in beside me, her thigh pressing against mine in the cramped space. She walks me through the basics: ignition, gas, brake. It all seems simple enough until I actually try to move .

The UTV lurches forward, and Laura yelps, grabbing the dashboard. “Gently!” she shouts over the engine’s purr. “It’s not a chariot!”

I ease off the gas, and we settle into a more reasonable pace. As we bump along the uneven terrain, I can’t help but laugh. “This is incredible! It’s like riding a mechanical horse! Vulcan himself would be proud.”

Laura relaxes beside me, her initial tension melting into laughter. “They called them horseless carriages when they were new. And on this terrain, this baby goes about a tenth as fast as a car would go on a highway.”

When we reach the cottage, I’m exhilarated, and my turmoil from last night is behind me. Laura’s hair is a wild mess from the wind, and her cheeks are flushed with excitement.

“Not bad for your first time,” she admits as we unload our belongings.

I move to help as Laura struggles with a particularly heavy bin, but she waves me off. “I’ve got it. Just…” she pants and puffs a lock of hair off her face, “giving myself a workout.”

I watch her lurch unsteadily toward the door. “You know, in my time, we had these things called gladiators. They were known for their strength and skill.”

Laura sets the bin down with a huff. “Oh yeah? And I suppose you were the strongest of them all?”

I puff out my chest playfully. “Naturally. They called me ‘Varro the Invincible’.”

She snorts, but I catch the smile she’s trying to hide. “Alright, ‘Varro the Invincible’. How about you put those legendary muscles to use and handle the heavy lifting? I’ll carry the pillows. When we’re all set up, you can show me how to make one of those brooms you mentioned. ”

I nod, grabbing a bundle of leftover stalks we used for thatching. “As you wish. But just remember, even invincible gladiators expect payment for their services.”

Laura raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what form of payment did you have in mind?”

Her tone is wary. Is she teasing or re-establishing her boundary?

“How about…” I pretend to think deeply, “you teach me more of those strange dances from your time?”

She laughs, the sound bright and genuine. “Deal. But fair warning, I might just make you learn to break dance.”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Never mind. Knowing you, you’d be a natural.”

As I demonstrate how to bind the stalks tightly together to make a broom, Laura stands close, her eyes fixed on my hands.

“You know,” she says softly, “I never thought I’d be so fascinated by Ancient Roman cleaning techniques.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Just wait until I tell you how we did laundry. It involves a lot of stomping while wearing very little clothing.”

Laura’s cheeks flush. “Oh? Do tell.”

I launch into an explanation of Roman laundry practices, watching her expression shift from curiosity to humor as I describe the use of urine in cleaning clothes.

“You’re joking.” She slaps my biceps as if I just made a hilarious joke.

I shake my head, grinning. “Not at all. Urine was collected in public pots on street corners. It was excellent for removing stains and odors.”

Laura looks both fascinated and disgusted. “That’s… actually kind of genius. Gross, but genius. ”

As we continue unpacking, I’m struck by how different our worlds are. Yet somehow, we’ve found a way to bridge that gap, to work together and even enjoy each other’s company. I’m lucky she knows Latin so well, though her pronunciation is odd, and I learn more English every day—the songs help teach me new words.

By the time the sun’s edge touches the horizon, we’re both exhausted. Laura collapses onto her bed, which is set on the opposite side of the room from mine. I try not to dwell on the distance between us.

“Well.” She props herself up on her elbows. “I’d say this was a successful moving day. What do you think, roomie?”

I look around our small, cozy space. It’s certainly not as grand as the patrician palatiums I used to visit, nor as humble as a gladiator barracks. It reminds me of where I grew up in Hispania and feels more like home than anywhere I’ve been in a long time.

“I think,” I meet Laura’s gaze, “that we make a pretty good team.”

She smiles, and for a moment, I forget about the centuries that separate us, the challenges of my past, the uncertain future ahead. In this moment, there’s just us, two people carving out a life together in this strange new world.

As night falls and we settle in for our first night in our new home, I can’t help but wonder: if I had the chance to return to my old life, would I take it? The thought surprises me. When I awakened from the ice, I prayed to the Gods to send me back to my old life. But now, looking at Laura’s sleeping form across the room, I’m not so sure I’d make that choice if given the chance.

This isn’t the life I ever imagined for myself, but lying here, a free man, surrounded by the warmth of our makeshift home and the company of this remarkable woman, I find myself filled with a sense of possibility I didn’t have in my old life. And that, I realize, is worth more than all the gold in the Emperor’s vaults.