"Hercules--" Her head burrowed into the crook of his arm, she shivered beneath his touch--"I found a kind of hope in you." Eodan thought, Did earth's last happy folk leave their bones on the Raudian plain? Blindly, he drew Cordelia to him. Her hands were cold on his skin. But the rest of her seemed ablaze. And later, humbly, she said, "Thank you." The night wore on. They did not sleep. But it was curious how much they talked, and how dryly, almost like two consuls mapping a campaign, when they were not kissing. "This cannot be too open," she said. "Flavius can endure being whispered about on my account, for the sake of my father's help. An equestrian cannot rise far without some such figurehead. And a Roman wife's affairs with Romans are common enough--but not with barbarians. That would make him a laughingstock! And he would avenge his slain political ambitions more than his honor." After a moment, thoughtfully: "And even if his reputation were not harmed--I am unsure what he feels toward you, who owned him--" "I too," said Eodan, surprised. He had imagined Flavius was grateful at first, after Arausio, and friendly later, and malicious after Vercellae. Now it grew upon him that he had only seen chance waves across a deep and secret pool. Flavius' soul was locked away from him. "So we will keep you here, with the title of guardsman," decided Cordelia. "He seldom comes to this estate. You can arrange to be elsewhere if he should come. This may take a few months, you realize. I must work on my father and others; I must make sure that when I finally do divorce him, I will come at once under some other man's powerful protection. And, of course, that you come with me." A slow, cruel smile lifted her lips. "And that _I_ rule my next household. Some Senator, doddering with age, and very rich.... Then you can be brought to Rome, Hercules. There will be wealth for you.... many slaves are wealthy in their own right--or you can even be freed, if you think a change of title makes any difference." She melted against him. "It does not. You already have me in freehold." He embraced her again. As she trembled in his hands, he wondered how much of her speaking was real and how much only the she-animal of this night. He waited until she had rested again, and drunk again, and returned to him on the bronze bed. Then, as he lay tangled in her hair, he said--it had taken less courage to charge the Roman army--"When can you get release for my wife?" She sprang from him, spitting like a cat. "Do you dare?" she yelled. Eodan stood up, smiling by plan, and said, "I would not forget any--friend--even her. Can she not be bought back, or released somehow?" Cordelia paused. Her look grew narrow, as he had seen before. "Do you think of this brood-mare as merely a friend?" she asked. Eodan swallowed. He could not answer, only nod.