it. You, Guardsman, had a quiet little chat with your centurion earlier today. You thought I was asleep, but I’ve got sharp enough ears when scum like you are spreading gossip about things best kept private. While I was lying there with my eyes shut and my ears open, I heard someone else tell your officer that our lady doctor was ripe for breaking in. Which upset me more than a little, given that she’s to be married to my brother officer. Soon after that, I heard you tell him that she’s close to a centurion by the name of Corvus. And now here we are, less than a day later, and she’s missing, whereabouts unknown, but I’m told she was last seen riding out of the north gate with your centurion Rapax. From which I can only assume that he’s kidnapped her, and intends to use her to get to Centurion Corvus?’
The praetorian nodded his head slowly. His eyes had adjusted to the shadow in which his assailant had placed himself, and he found himself staring at the hard features of the auxiliary soldier from the bed opposite.
‘Where will he take her?’
If he’d been brave enough the guardsman would have laughed in the Tungrian’s face, but he made do with a momentary smirk.
‘I’ve no idea. They’ll probably go north, find some ground where they can take Corvus off guard, and then lure him in with the woman. When he gets close enough Rapax will most likely have one of his men fuck her, get her to make some noise and bring the boy in angry and unprepared. Perhaps he’ll even enjoy her himself. He’s had a lot of practice in making the women scream recently…’
The Tungrian cut him off with a fierce look of disgust.
‘So who’s this Rapax’s colleague?’
The praetorian couldn’t hold back the smile any longer.
‘Someone with more power than you could ever imagine. He’s a corn officer, if you know what that means. He can…’
The Tungrian sneered back down at him, flexing his fingers around the guardsman’s throat…
‘I know what it means. And that’s all I needed to know.’
He closed his fingers around the guardsman’s windpipe, crushing his larynx flat and pushing him back on to the bed, waiting while the dying man squirmed for breath and clawed at the hand that was killing him.
‘It’s a quicker death than you deserve, and an easier exit than your centurion Rapax will enjoy when I catch up with him.’
Tribune Paulus was clearly unused to having his decisions challenged by the lower ranks, and appeared utterly nonplussed to find an auxiliary centurion in front of his desk and making demands of him that he could only regard as extraordinary. Having said his piece, the bearded officer standing at attention before him stared obdurately at the wall behind him and waited for Paulus to respond. The tribune spun out a long, calculated pause before speaking, wanting the silence to unnerve the other man enough to take the edge off his apparent arrogance.
‘So, Centurion…?’
‘Dubnus, Tribune.’
‘Centurion Dubnus of the First Tungrian auxiliary cohort. If I’ve understood you fully, you’d like me to detail a full century to join you in some wild journey north?’
‘Yes, Tribune.’
In pursuit of Centurions Rapax and Excingus, who, you claim, have abducted the fort’s doctor and carried her away in the apparently mistaken belief that her husband-to-be is a fugitive from imperial justice?’
‘Yes, Tribune.’
‘These two officers being, I am forced to note, a praetorian and a corn officer. Representatives of both the praetorian tribune and the Emperor himself?’
‘Yes, Tribune.’
Paulus paused again, his eyebrows raised in an incredulous stare.
‘Are you fucking mad, Centurion? I have five combat-effective centuries with which to hold this fort against who knows how many Brigantian rebels who might be gathering to attack us at this very moment. I’ll remind you of what happened to the garrison of White Strength less than a month ago, and they had a good deal more men than we do. What is it that makes you imagine that I’m going to give you a century of my soldiers to chase after two men with the power to have any one of us – or all of us – tortured and executed at the merest whiff of treason?’
‘They have the doctor, Tribune, and…’
‘And if they’ve chosen to take her there’s really not all that much I can do to stop them, given their absolute power to hunt down the state’s enemies. Is there, Centurion?’
The centurion locked eyes with him, and held that gaze as he replied.
‘No, sir. You can’t. But I can. Give me the men and I’ll make the pair of them vanish as if they’d never existed.’
The tribune bristled, fear and anger combined in his incredulous tone.
‘You’ll make the problem go away, will you? And what if you don’t? What if this lethal pairing eludes you, and discovers what I’ve done? Why in Hades would I take such a risk?’
The centurion’s face stayed expressionless, but his eyes burned into Paulus’s with renewed intensity as he leaned forward, unconsciously accepting the senior officer’s challenge.
‘Because, Tribune, your legatus, Cohort Tribune Licinius and Cohort Tribune Scaurus have all put their faith and trust in Centurion Corvus. If these two so-called officers…’ he spat the word into the air between them ‘… are allowed to do their dirty work, then all three of those men will likely die alongside him in some way or another. If you want to avoid that, you have only to give me the soldiers and turn me loose.’
Paulus sat back and pondered the centurion’s point. A legion legatus and two highly thought-of tribunes would make powerful friends in the years to come. His mind turned, as it had many times since his interview with the praetorian and the corn officer, to his oldest friend in the world, north of the Wall with the Petriana and without any clue as to the doom bearing down on him.
‘Let’s imagine that I actually give you some legionaries. You’ll take them north and hunt down these men how, exactly?’
The Briton smiled down at him from his standing position, his face almost feral with the intensity of his confidence.
‘I am a hunter, Tribune. I learned to track and kill animals with my father and his people, the same people who are currently hunting down any Roman foolish enough to go into the countryside to the south of here without enough spears to make them think twice. And I know who it is these particular animals are looking for. I will hunt them, I will find them and I will kill them both.’
‘And my part in this matter? Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut?’
The smile changed slightly, some hint of the Briton’s contempt creeping into his expression.
‘Oh yes, Tribune, I’ll be very sure not to mention your name. You wouldn’t want to be seen taking sides.’
Marcus snapped awake at the sound of a high-pitched scream which put him on his feet before any conscious thought was fully formed. Ripping the eagle-pommelled gladius from its scabbard, he stepped out into the cold morning air in his bare feet, ready to fight. A dozen of the 9th Century’s soldiers turned on hearing the scrape of his tunic on the tent’s rough canvas flap, their surprise at the weapon in his hand turning to amusement as they realised the misapprehension he was under. Looking beyond their grins, he saw the German Arminius standing with a wooden practice sword, the boy Lupus facing him with his own half-sized practice weapon held ready to strike.
‘Don’t squeal at me when you attack, boy, shout at me like you’ve got a pair of big hairy balls! And you’re supposed to be carving my guts open, not trying to tickle me! Put your weight behind the blade when you thrust!’
Marcus strolled across to the pair, the watching soldiers parting to either side.
‘You’re teaching Lupus to fight?’
The German inclined his head in a slight bow, the closest he ever came to a salute.
‘I have agreed with Morban that the boy needs to learn the arts of combat if he is to be a soldier. One hour a day, every day, I will spend on his education with the sword. Someone else can teach him to ride, though.’
The Roman’s lips twitched slightly at Arminius’s attempt at humour.
