But you’re here, so let’s see if we can’t entertain you. Girls!’ She snapped her fingers with the manner of a woman who was used to having her commands obeyed, and a line of five women emerged from behind a curtain where they had clearly been waiting for the evening’s customers. Eyeing them appreciatively, Julius found himself hardening despite having no intention of sampling the brothel’s wares. Annia smiled knowingly, leaning forward to stroke his erect manhood through the tunic’s fine wool. ‘Well, some things never change. If anything I’d say that’s got a little bigger. Clearly some things do improve with age. Will you partake of a little enjoyment, Centurion, on the house, of course? It must be a long time since you’ve had the opportunity to ride anything quite as soft and eager to please as my girls.’
Julius surveyed the line of women for a moment, noting with a smile how neatly any and every taste was catered for. From a skinny girl scarcely old enough to be considered fit for her role, her apple-sized breasts barely hidden beneath a skimpy shift, to a mature woman in the last flush of her beauty, ripe and sultry with heavy breasts and a face that promised a lifetime’s experience, any age of female company a man might desire was paraded before him. He swallowed, painfully aware of both his own arousal and the woman’s cool, amused eyes upon him.
‘I came to talk, Annia, not to…’
‘Not to fuck? You’re a collector’s item, Centurion, an outright rarity. We have the occasional men that pay simply to have the company of a pretty girl, but they tend to be the older men whose cocks have lost their bounce, not fighting bulls like you with their pricks standing at attention. I’ll bet you wouldn’t last thirty seconds in the hands of Helvia there.’ She gestured to the oldest of the women, who winked on cue and slid a finger down into her vagina’s hairy cleft with a winsome smile. Julius’s face must have been a picture, for Annia burst into a peal of uncontrollable laughter. For a moment he was fifteen years old again, with that same laugh thrilling him as she climbed on top of him in one of their hiding places. She reached out and squeezed his penis again, and watched with a smile as he fought to retain control. ‘See. You very nearly released yourself into that nice tunic, and all you’ve had so far is a wink and a gentle squeeze. So..?’
She gestured to the line of prostitutes again, and with a feeling that he was going to regret the decision he shook his head firmly.
‘Thank you, but I really did come to talk.’ Taking a purse from his belt he opened its drawstring neck, rattling the heavy coins within. ‘I can afford to pay for the privilege.’
Annia shook her head, pushing the purse away and ignoring the intake of breath from the bodyguard behind her.
‘There’ll be no need for that. I’m not given to fucking the customers these days, not unless they’re queuing out of the door, and even then I charge an eye-watering sum for the pleasure. Ownership does have some benefits, and mine is being able to be choosy as to when and with whom I get on my back. So, what would you like to discuss? Just what is it that you think we have to talk about, given the way we parted, and the fact that we’ve not laid eyes on each other for fifteen years?’
Julius shook his head sadly, and when he spoke his voice was that of a man utterly lost.
‘I don’t know.’
One of the temple’s Raven initiates walked solemnly down the double line of reclining worshippers, bowing deeply to Scaurus in honour of the laurel wreath that decorated his brow.
‘Forgive me, brother Lion, but there is a man at the temple door who claims he is one of your officers. Apparently there is some trouble in the city.’
Scaurus nodded to his companions and stood up, abandoning his half-eaten ceremonial meal and bowing to the expectant priest who had appeared at the Raven’s shoulder.
‘You must forgive me, Pater, earthly matters demand my attention. I will spend an hour in prayer to repay our Lord Mithras for this early departure.’ He slipped a leather purse into the priest’s hands. ‘A gift, Pater, a small contribution for the maintenance of your most impressive temple. The reversible altar relief is quite masterful. You must have a generous and devoted congregation.’
The priest nodded with a quiet smile, used to visiting worshippers’ amazement when the heavy stone relief depicting Mithras’s triumph over the bull was rotated on the circular turntable on which it rested to reveal its equally skilfully depicted reverse, a carving of Mithras and Sol feasting on the dead bull’s hide.
‘My pleasure, brother Lion, and my regards to your companions. Mithras is a soldier’s god, and I feel certain that he will indulge your need to restore order in the earthly realm above us. Please do grace us with your presence again, and bring that young man with you. Perhaps we can advance him a grade in the ordeal pit?’
Scaurus smiled in return, inclining his head in agreement.
‘Indeed so, Pater, although when he took the hood last winter, while we were confined to camp by the snows, he threw himself into his studies with such gusto that he has already advanced to the rank of Bride, and his demeanour in the ordeal of ice brought great dignity to our Lord.’
The priest raised his eyebrows, apparently genuinely impressed.
‘A man to watch, then? He’ll join you in the fourth rank and become a Lion in no time. And now that’s enough politeness, my son. Away with you. Who knows what mischief your children are up to while their father worships down here?’
Scaurus bowed to the priest again, muttering a brief apology to Caninus before leading the other two men away up the stairs behind the waiting Raven. Arminius paused at the foot of the steep flight of stone steps and flicked a glance around the room, noting with interest the look that the pater seemed to be sharing with Petrus, then he turned to follow his master, pulling a set of heavy brass knuckles from a pouch on his belt.
‘Who do we have out on the town tonight?’
Arminius grinned at the tribune’s question as they walked quickly down the road between shuttered houses, hearing the faint sounds of men fighting echo between the closely packed dwellings.
‘That’s the best bit. The lottery came up with the Third and Eighth Centuries.’
Marcus groaned, shaking his head in resigned disgust.
‘The first two centuries allowed out, and one of them is stuffed full of Dubnus’s bloody legionaries? This is going to get sporty.’
The bitterly cold wind was still whistling through the city’s streets the next morning when all three cohorts paraded outside the walls to watch punishment being meted out to the captured bandits.
‘There’ll be some thick heads out there this morning. Serves the bastards right for getting the first evening in the city.’ Marcus ignored Morban’s morose grumbling, watching with amusement as Dubnus marched his century into position next to the 9th, his face still dark with anger at the previous evening’s events. ‘Perhaps now he’s having second thoughts about having let a half-century of legion morons join up with us.’
His centurion shook his head in exasperation.
‘Would those be the legion morons that saved my wife’s life last autumn, Standard Bearer? Perhaps your bitterness is rooted in the fact that you didn’t think to lay odds on there being a fight in the city last night, despite the two centuries most likely to-’
He stopped speaking when he saw the smug look on Morban’s face, and walked away with a look of disgust on his face. The Tungrian auxiliaries still regarded the men of Dubnus’s ‘detachment Habitus’ with the ingrained jaundice that traditionally came to the surface whenever legionary and auxiliary came into close contact. He strolled down the line of the 9th Century’s front rank, catching his friend’s eye as the angry centurion stalked along the 8th’s line, looking for any excuse to further berate his men. Dubnus raised a gloomy eyebrow and tapped his open palm with the vine stick gripped in his other hand, raking a meaningful stare across his soldiers, none of whom appeared to be meeting his eye. Marcus was forced to smile at the memory of his colleague, a man more used to finishing fights than starting them, laying about him with gusto when the brawling between his century’s former legionaries and the men of the 1st Minervia had recommenced the previous night. The friends met at the junction between the two centuries’ ranks, and Dubnus nodded glumly, speaking loudly enough for his men to hear.
‘Thanks for your help last night. These fucking idiots would have taken on every bloody legionary in the city if we’d not given their chains a good jerk. One or two of them want to be careful they don’t end up taking the places of those poor bastards.’ He tipped his head at the small group of captured bandits awaiting their punishment under the watchful eyes of twice as many guards. Glancing across the lines of soldiers Marcus could see more than one man with a reproachful look on his face, and it was quickly clear that an incensed Dubnus had spotted them too.
‘Don’t be giving me the cow’s eyes, you pricks! One insult, one little fucking jibe at your expense, and you
