She stared down at the paper. In the blink of an eye, shehad drawn her knife and stabbed it into the middle of the Brittenburggovernor’s mansion. Smiling coldly, she looked around at their faces and saidin a voice as frigid and sharp as ice, “So tell me, my friends: who is ready todeliver the next of many death blows to the largest empire on earth?”
Not too far away, Tribune Appius was suffering death by athousand cuts. He was enduring a small soiree at the governor’s mansion.Although he would have preferred to wait at the airport, Constantine had beeninvited to join the legate governor and several of his closest politicalflunkies and friends. Industrialists in top hats and trim black suits mixedwith toga-clad city and provincial officials. Several women in attendance hadtried to catch Constantine’s eye, but he found none of them the least bitattractive, even when dolled up with the latest makeup and poufy ball gowns. Hehad always preferred the more traditional, simpler dresses devoid of folds oflace.
If one more sniveling person tries to tell me why Ishould invest in his new thingamajig or whatchamacallit … Constantine’shand clenched and red wine slopped over his fingers as the thin, decorativesilver goblet fractured. “Pah!” he mumbled to himself.
A moment later his aide was next to him, holding a smalltowel. “Here you go, sir, let me get you a fresh cup of the red,” thelegionnaire whispered.
“No need, Manus; I’ve gone and wasted this one.” He handedover the damaged goblet, glancing furtively around at the modest gathering ofpeople in the main audience chamber. Several ladies giggled as they saunteredpast, eyeing the two soldiers up and down. One was even wearing those newtall-heeled shoe contraptions, swaying unsteadily like a tree in a gale.
“Is there anything going on out there,” he jerked his headtoward the outer door, “that could get me out of this pointless frivolity? I’vehad it up to here with these people.”
Manus gave a small smile. He looked thoughtful for a fewmoments, then moved in close, eyes also darting around. “Well, sir, I daresaythat you could … er … inspect the perimeter and central defenses in placehere against a possible attack? Safety first-and I hear there are banditsabout,” he added with a cynical grin.
For the first time in quite a while, Constantine smiled. Helooked up from his hands, the towel ruined with red wine stains. “I suppose forthe safety of all involved, most particularly my sanity, that I shall be requiredto observe all current safety procedures being undertaken here at thegovernor’s residence.” He turned to face the crowd, taking a steadying breathwhile Manus stepped back a few paces.
Ding, ding, ding. He tapped the hilt of his beltdagger against the ruined goblet to attract the crowd’s attention. A hushdescended over the room. Constantine waited a moment before speaking. “Ladiesand gentlemen, it appears that I have been remiss in my duties as both anofficer and a fellow Roman. My aide has informed me that I have not yetperformed my required perimeter inspection of the villa and grounds. As theranking military officer present, it is mandatory that I complete this duty, forthe safety of all, and of course, for the comfort of all here.” His voicerang out, but inside he was quivering, knowing his excuse was weak and flimsy.
But polite applause rewarded him. Shouts of “Absolutely!”and “Good thinking!” followed him as he moved toward a side exit. Women gushedabout how brave and heroic he was. Seriously? I’m taking a walk and all of asudden I’m heroic?
The legate governor appeared before him as he passed betweenseveral fluted columns. “Good afternoon, Legate Vorcentus,” Constantine said ina neutral voice.
The portly legate acknowledged with a nod. “Tribune. I seeduty waits for no one. It is a shame to see you leaving so soon.” His voice wasa low rumble. He pushed some graying hair out of his eyes. “Of course you’ll bereturning to us shortly, I suppose?”
Constantine nodded regally, though he grimaced inwardly.
“I remember when I was in the legions, how we never had amoment’s repose,” the man began. “Have I told you about the time I led the IXHispania against the remnants of the Azorean raiders? Talk about a battle! Why,we were outnumbered three to one, and I ordered …”
Once, the legate governor had been a model soldier,outstanding general, and strong ally to Constantine’s father. Now he was aslightly addled, unfocused, and only moderately competent governor. Constantinenodded at appropriate points in the legate governor’s rambling, feigninginterest. At least it’s better than dancing. Though he’d excelled atfencing, Constantine had never been able to comprehend the exotic andterrifying grace required for dancing. His father, who had firmlybelieved his youngest should know how to act like a gentleman, often commentedupon his missteps and intricately impressive failures at dance.
Eventually, he spied Manus, caught his attention, andflashed him a pointed look. Manus immediately complied.
“Excuse me, sir,” the aide interrupted in his most annoying,officious voice as he joined Constantine and the legate, “but you really mustbe getting a move on. You know how important it is that you fulfill all of yourrequired duties.”
Constantine inclined his head to the legate, who appearedstartled at being sidetracked. “Duty calls.”
They left the stuffy and crowded ballroom. “This way, sir.I’ll take you to Auxilia Centurion Quintus. We can see the whole city from theoperations center. It’s a great way to pass the time.” Legionnaire Manus ledthe way to a small complex in the middle of the gardens composed of a tallobservation tower surrounded by an eight-foot wall and a barracks facility.
The complex was not extensively fortified, but secure enoughfor the fifty-member demi-cohort assigned to guard the legate governor. Theyentered through its only gate and stepped into a small courtyard, where AuxiliaCenturion Quintus met them. Legionnaire Manus explained the situation.
“Not a problem. I’d love to give you a tour of ourfacilities here. I know they can’t hold a candle to the Imperial Palace inRome, but then again, I don’t have four thousand crack Praetorian Guardsmen atmy command.” He offered a wry smile as he took them up the observation tower.
“I can see the entire perimeter from here, and we’ve gotseveral patrols out right now,” Centurion Quintus continued as they reached thetop. “Obviously, we work closely with the constabulary to monitor any dissidentgroups or more organized gangs.” He gave them a brief overview of the securityprocedures and various points of interest as they moved around the tower, thewooden and steel frame creaking slightly beneath their weight.
“Uh, sir,” called Manus, “you might want to take a look atthis.”
Quintus and Constantine moved over to west side of thetower.
“Did we have any airships scheduled to move in today? And ifso, why are they shelling the city?” Manus asked.
Quintus looked confused, while Constantine fumbled for hisbinoculars. He slammed them up to his eyes so quickly, he winced in pain as hetrained them on the two large cargo dirigibles. Bolts lanced out from thegondolas at mid-ship, striking random targets below. He could feel the slightvibration running up the tower from the ground as the sounds of the explosionsreached their ears.
Quintus ran to the speaking tube and unstoppered it. “We’reunder attack!” he shouted into it. “Scramble all divisions! Contact theconstabulary and reserves immediately! Do it, now!” he screamed when avoice at the other end apparently questioned his orders.