A gladius was a sword, a short, broad thing Dael had seen the soldiers wield, different from the sleek spears. Flavia shrugged off her cloak and hung it from a bough, and she wore a sheath at her waist.
“Women here are soldiers?” Dael goggled. It made some sense - her master (brother? Husband? Surely not father?) was a soldier.
“No,” Flavia said, “which is why we’re out past the farmers.” She added, “Agricolae,” for good measure. “Do you know how to use one of these?”
“I was a farmer,” Dael said flatly.
“Good. Then you won’t have any bad habits.”
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