given that you examined one of my victims once I was done with her?’
The horrified doctor nodded slowly, unable to take her eyes from the face in front of her. Furius smiled slowly, then reached out with sudden speed and gripped the collar of her tunic with both hands, rending the garment apart with his immense strength. He put a hand around her throat and forced her to her feet, pushing her up against the wall while using the other hand to tear away the ruined tunic, revealing her body to him.
‘Oh yes, exactly what I need. You, my dear, are going to be squealing like a stuck pig in a minute or two.’
He pulled down the linen band restraining her breasts, allowing them to bob loose, and gripped a nipple with a fierce tweak. The abused flesh stiffened in protest, as an amused grin played across his face.
‘See, your body is already betraying you… you bitches always enjoy what I’ve got to offer, even if you pretend to resist!’
The door opened behind him with a groan of hinges. Cornelius Felix walked gingerly through the doorway, his right arm tightly bound in a sling.
‘Doctor, I… good grief, what in Hades are…’
Furius pivoted swiftly, driving a bunched fist into his face and catapulting him across the corridor and off the far wall. The wounded cavalry officer slumped to the floor, already unconscious. Furius turned back to find the naked woman clawing frantically at the room’s shutter. Pulling her away from the window and pushing her to the floor with a triumphant laugh, he delivered a stinging backhanded slap to her face.
‘No you don’t. Let’s have those undergarments off, shall we. Open wide!’
In the officers’ mess Marcus drained his beaker, putting it down on the table and picking up his helmet, looking around for a moment.
‘Damn.’
Rufius raised an eyebrow.
‘My vine stick. I must have left it in the hospital.’
His friend drank his wine and picked up his own helmet.
‘It’s only round the corner, I’ll come with you. It’ll give us a chance to see how Dubnus is doing. You coming, Martos?’
The Briton nodded, tipping back the contents of his drinking horn and shoving it into his belt. Julius picked up his helmet, shooting Marcus a wry smile.
‘I’ll come too. Someone’s got to make sure you come back to your barrack nice and promptly, or we’ll have a repeat of what happened the last time you were left alone with her. Can’t have you turning up on parade in the morning looking like you’ve been pulled through a hedge, can we?’
The four men made their way to the door, stepping out into the cold night air under a blaze of stars and strolling down the street towards the hospital. The light of a lamp flickered through the shutters of the doctor’s office window, making Marcus shake his head.
‘She’s still at it. So much for “you go and get some slee…”’
‘Quiet!’
They turned and looked at Martos, his head cocked the better to listen. In the silence they all heard the sound, a woman’s cry of distress. Rufius made the connection first, dashing off along the street with the other men in close pursuit. He took the steps into the hospital’s lobby two at a time and lunged into the corridor, his pace hastened further by the slumped body at its far end. Drawing his sword, he sprinted down the length of the building, kicking the office door open to find the helpless Felicia pinned to the floor with Furius on top of her, her legs forced open by his muscular thighs, one hand stifling her screams and the other between their bodies, his buttocks moving slightly as he readied himself to thrust into her. The doctor saw Rufius over her attacker’s shoulder, her eyes bulging as he stepped into the office and stooped to put his blade’s point against her rapist’s anus. Furius froze into immobility with the weapon’s first touch, looking over his shoulder in amazement at the furious centurion.
‘Get off her now, or I’ll put my iron so far up you it’ll stop your heart without ever disturbing your ribs, you piece of shit.’
The other officers appeared in the door behind him, Julius sizing up the situation in an instant.
‘Keep him there. Lady, bring yourself out from under him, nice and easy.’
Felicia struggled out from beneath Furius’s weight, spitting into his face with shocked anger. Julius tapped Marcus on the shoulder hard, seeing his friend’s ash-white face and knowing that the man was seconds from taking a blade to the prostrate former officer.
‘Get your woman out of here, Centurion, and give her some decency. We’ll deal with this bastard once she’s safely out of the way.’
He stepped into the office and put an iron-nailed boot on to Furius’s neck, crushing the man’s face into the hard stone floor.
‘Tie his hands behind his back with your belt.’ He waited while the older man secured their prisoner’s wrists. ‘Good. Now sheathe your blade, Rufius; this one won’t struggle, not now he’s dealing with fighting men and not trying to violate a defenceless woman. And besides, I’m rather looking forward to seeing his face when we scourge his back off and then nail him up tomorrow morning. That is your preferred method of punishment, I believe…?’
Furius lay helpless under the centurion’s booted foot, but his snarled response was anything but.
‘You won’t dare bring me to justice, Centurion, I know things that you can’t afford to have made public!’
The boot pinning him to the floor pushed down harder, Julius turning to his brother centurion.
‘Go on; get whoever that is lying outside sorted out.’
Rufius sheathed his sword, leaving the room and allowing Martos through the door to get his first glimpse of the prostrate Furius. Julius bent and took a handful of Furius’s hair, pulling his head off the floor despite the foot pinning his neck.
‘Go on, then, let’s hear these things we don’t want to be known.’
Furius spat his frustration into the words, half choked by the position the angry centurion had forced him into.
‘Your centurion… the boy with the… unconvincing name… I know he’s a fugitive… and that you’re all… hiding him.’ He paused, swallowing painfully. ‘You put me on display… and I’ll shout that so long and loud… the gods will hear it.’
Julius laughed, wrenching the helpless man’s head to one side so that he could see the centurion standing over him.
‘Very good, ex-Prefect. You’ve just earned yourself a private death.’ He pulled a dagger from his belt, putting the blade close to Furius’s face. ‘I might blind you first, and then we’ll truss you up and take you out into the woods. I fancy staking you out and leaving you for the animals to find you…’
Disquietingly, the former officer laughed back at him in spite of his discomfort.
‘That would be… brave of you… No, I mean it!’
Julius had pulled his head back farther, threatening to finish the job of choking him to death, and he exchanged an uneasy glance with Martos.
‘Brave, eh?’
‘Yes… anything that brings… the corn officers… will bring your lies… crashing down… expose the fugitive… crush you all.’
Martos tapped Julius on the shoulder.
‘I think that what’s needed here is for this man to die an unremarkable death. Something to arouse no suspicion, perhaps?’
Julius nodded, raising an eyebrow.
‘And you know how to make this happen?’
The Briton nodded, pulling the drinking horn from his belt and pointing to their captive’s bare backside. Julius frowned uncomprehendingly.
‘We’re going to bugger him to death with a drinking horn?’
Martos shook his head, raising a hand to forestall any more questions.
‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ He leaned in closer, bending to slap Furius’s ear hard enough to provoke a howl of rage that covered his brief whisper to the centurion. ‘Make him believe he’s won. He mustn’t struggle for the next few minutes; we want no marks on his body. Just do one thing for me while I’m gone…’
