"Magnificent," Caesar whispered to Mucia. "Almost too risky, but perfectly successful."
"You will now fall into ranks," Pompey continued to the men. "You will march past. From the march past the whole army will double-quick the six miles to Antium. There you will be allowed one draft of water each. You will then double-quick back to camp."
He paused, and stood imperiously dominating the ensuing silence, completely master.
In Roman civil life, in all state affairs, still more in all military matters women were not supposed to exist. If present they effaced themselves, tolerated maybe, but ignored. But now Mucia rushed to Pompey and threw her arms about his neck.
He caught her to him, not perfunctorily, but greedily. Before all his staff and army he kissed her lips.
Then did the men burst into vast, ringing cheers.
"No danger now," Pompey whispered to Mucia as he released her.
"After that cheer they are mine, heart and soul."
