anything I wouldn’t…’
As the standard bearer opened the barracks door to leave, he found his exit blocked by a shadowy figure that towered over him in the unlit street outside. He recoiled, one hand going to his purse and the other reaching under the cloak for a small blade hanging round his neck. The other man was faster, clenching a big fist around both hand and weapon.
‘It’s never wise to pull a knife on a man twice your size, little man, especially when he’s on your own side.’
Morban puffed out a quick breath, shaking his head in a mixture of irritation and relief.
‘What do you want, Arminius? I’ve no time to bandy words with you.’
The German grinned down at him, planting himself firmly in the standard bearer’s path and folding his arms.
‘I thought as much. A good friend told me that you were running a book on the results of today’s executions, and clearly I’ve arrived just in time to stop you wasting your winnings in your usual bull-in-a-field-of-cows fashion.’
Morban’s face screwed itself up into his customary expression of incredulity. With his eyes narrowed and upper lip raised in a disbelieving sneer, he opened his hands in front of him in a shrug of bemusement.
‘What? I made a modest profit by providing a service to my fellow soldiers; it isn’t as if I’ve been dipping my fingers in the burial fund.’
The men behind him nodded sagely. Morban was known to be scrupulous in his handling of their savings. Arminius snorted derisively.
‘I made no such accusation, so stop trying to change the subject. Even you’re not stupid enough to risk what these men would do to you if they discovered so much as a hint of embezzlement.’ The soldiers nodded again, exchanging knowing looks of agreement, but before Morban could respond Arminius leaned forward and whispered in his ear. ‘But then you’re more than sly enough to have fooled your comrades in other ways, aren’t you? As I recall it, you took a lot of bets as to where your cohort’s next posting would be before we were shipped over here, and almost none of that money was wagered on the cohort leaving Britannia, was it? A cynical man would wonder if you hadn’t managed to find out where we were being deployed next before you opened the book, and I seem to recall some hard words on the matter at the time, even if nobody could prove you had inside knowledge. How do you think your comrades would react to the news that you had actually overheard the first spear discussing the subject with your centurion, and in that way learned what you needed to know to make a swift and risk-free profit?’
Morban hissed his reply in a tone of disbelief, his eyes widening with fear.
‘There’s no way you can prove any such thing.’
Arminius smiled widely, delivering the killer blow to any resistance from the standard bearer.
‘Who said anything about me? I think you’ll find that the person who will be doing the telling will have a good deal more credibility than I do. He’s a good man, quite young and he wears a crested helmet.’
Morban’s eyes slitted in disbelief.
You’re bluffing! He wouldn’t…’
Arminius nodded his head.
‘Yes, he would. He and I knew that we’d need some leverage to persuade you to deliver your promise to equip young Lupus when the time came. And that time has most definitely come. If you don’t agree to honour our agreement then you may find your future sources of revenue somewhat more limited than you like. Nobody likes a crooked bookmaker, do they, Morban?’
The standard bearer stared up at him with an expression that combined disgust and resignation.
‘How much do you want?’
‘Not me, Morban. How much does your grandson want? There is an armourer in the city who has agreed to make the boy his own sword and mail. Good stuff, mind you, as good as ours if not better.’
‘And how much does this glorified blacksmith want in return for selling me a mail coat that will fit the boy for only a year?’
‘He’ll do the job for a mere one hundred…’ Morban’s face brightened slightly, and Arminius twisted the knife. ‘Denarii, that is.’
The standard bearer blanched.
‘A hundred in silver? Four hundred fucking sestertii! Are you mad? I can’t… I mean, I haven’t got that sort of money!’
Arminius grinned in the darkness, a swift dart of his hand plucking the purse from the other man’s belt. Effortlessly holding off the enraged standard bearer with one hand he hefted the purse with the other, squeezing the top open and turning it to the light of the lamps inside the barrack.
‘Really? This does seem to be quite a generous sum you’re carrying, and most of it in gold as well. Shall we tip it out for counting?’
Morban, recognising that his guile had met its forceful match, shook his head dejectedly.
‘No need. Here, I’ll count it out for you.’
Arminius laughed at him, turning his back and tipping out the purse’s contents into his broad palm.
‘No, no, it’ll be my pleasure! Here we go! I’ll take it in gold to make things nice and simple. One, two, three…’ He shook the bag to dislodge the last coin. ‘Four gold aurei. There we are, all done. Now that didn’t hurt too badly, did it?’ He peered into the leather bag, pulling an impressed face. ‘My word, Morban, you have been busy! Here — ’ he tossed the purse back to the anguished soldier — ‘here’s what’s left of your treasure. Off you go and enjoy yourself, with that nice warm feeling that comes from having done the right thing. Even if you had to be helped to do so.’
Morban shook his head bitterly, turning to face the men staring at him in the barrack and replying in an affronted tone.
‘I’ve lost all appetite for an evening with the city’s ladies. Robbery with the threat of violence will do that to a man.’
Arminius smirked at his back, pulling a small coin from his pocket.
‘More like robbery with the threat of blackmail, I’d say, but no matter. Hey, Morban!’
He flicked the coin at the standard bearer, who’d turned round in response to the call and caught the spinning coin in mid-air.
‘A sestertius? What’s this for?’
The German was already walking away, and called his answer over his shoulder.
‘That should be enough for a flask of some of that rough Iberian cat piss you like so much. Have it on me, as a consolation.’
‘Well, now, if it isn’t the soldier boy again…’ With a clatter of bolts the Blue Boar’s door unlocked, and Slap appeared in the opening to look at Julius with an expression that combined puzzlement and pity, of a sort. ‘You’re a glutton for punishment, mate, unless you’ve got a hard-on for humiliation and hand jobs. Haven’t you realised what sort of woman she is yet?’
The Tungrian shrugged helplessly.
‘She’s a bit hard-edged, but that’s understandable given what she’s been through.’
The disbelief in the bodyguard’s answering laughter was enough to put his teeth on edge, but Julius held on to his temper with an ease that he was starting to find more than a little depressing.
‘Hard-edged? She’s razor-edged, soldier boy, sharper than any iron you’ve ever carried. She’s too smart for this profession, see, and she knows it, but she was forced into it anyway, without the choice, and you were a big part of that. She’ll be polite enough to you, but the odds of you getting past that ain’t big from what I’ve seen. In you come.’
Julius spread his arms to be searched, but the doorman waved away the gesture.
‘You’ve got more sense than to bring a weapon here. I think you know the truth of it all right, that you may be the emperor’s hard man, but on our ground we’re the professionals, and you’re the amateur.’ He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘In you go. I’ll send word up to her that you’re here. Let me know when you’ve had enough.’
Julius stepped into the brothel casting a wary eye around the main room’s softly lit expanse. An elderly man was sitting in one corner with a pair of girls in close attendance; one sat on his lap squealing with simulated enjoyment while he toyed with the other’s breasts in a half-hearted, vaguely embarrassed manner. Apart from that the place was empty. The barman held up an empty wine cup, remembering him from his previous visit, and Julius
