The next day the heavens opened. The convoy continued but in silence. No one felt like speaking as they trudged wet and dejected along the road, which hadn’t yet been Romanized and was little more than a muddy dirt track. That night they camped under the cover of the thick trees and after much effort they eventually got a fire going. Junius suggested to Marius that they modify their uniform and put on the braccae, which would give their legs more protection and keep them warmer. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something.
Marius let it be known to his friend that he would have company that night. Junius accepted without any fuss and seemed grateful for the concern. But toward morning, Marius was woken by movement again and found that next to him, Junius was once again beset by distressing dreams. Quietly he woke his friend, who stared up at him for a few long moments with wary eyes, then he turned on his side without a word. Marius continued to watch, perturbed by two successive nights of disturbance, something which hadn’t happened since they’d been in Syria.
Thankfully the rain stopped before first light and they were able to make good progress despite the state of the track. Marius didn’t mention the night to Junius who once again rode at the back and spoke to no one expect the guides occasionally.
When they stopped to camp in the evening, Marius automatically threw his bedroll down next to Junius’s, who didn’t comment but nodded his gratitude. Marius wasn’t surprised when Junius woke him for the third night in succession. This time it took a while for his friend to surface, so deeply was he entrenched in his dream. But instead of going back to sleep, Junius got to his feet and disappeared into the night without a word of explanation. For a moment, Marius wondered if he should go after him, but eventually decided against it. Junius would find him if he wanted to talk.