Scarface raised an eyebrow at him, injecting a note of disappointment into his reply.
‘That miserable bastard Julius was just annoyed ’cause we got to go up the hill and see the dead Selgovae that the one-eyed barbarian hacked the cocks off, and he didn’t. That’s why he had a go at me. And you’ve forgotten our agreement, have you, then? Us veterans, the front rank, the cream of the century? Didn’t we agree to keep an eye on that young gentleman and make sure he don’t come to no harm? Or are you too good to honour your promise, eh, Sanga?’
Called on his oath, the other soldier prevaricated.
‘I ain’t forgot it, I just ain’t so sure that young gentleman needs much looking after. If it came to swords and boards he’d have you and me face down in the dirt double quick, and not even be breathing hard when it was done. And he got his woman with child, what’ll give him a reason to wind his neck in. This watching of his back might have run its time, I reckon.’
He put out his chin defiantly, waiting to see how Scarface would jump. His tent mate shook his head, reaching for his sharpening stone and picking the dagger from his belt order.
‘Not the way I see it. You fought alongside me at the battle of the rebel camp, so you saw how bad he took it when poor old Rufius got his head stuck on a spear. You’ve seen his face when the rage takes him.’ He bent over the dagger, running the stone along its blade with a slow, satisfying rasp. ‘Once something’s got him that angry he don’t stop to work out the odds, or wonder if he might be best backing off; he just jumps in with them swords flying. I ain’t so sure that him being married to the doctor or her having a kid’s going to change that. So are you still in, or when the shit starts flying am I going to look around and find you ain’t there?’
The other man nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on Scarface, and their audience breathed out a collective breath with the confrontation’s apparent relaxation.
‘I’ll be there, but to back you up, mate, not to look out for an officer with a death wish.’
‘Good enough for me. So, this grain store, see, it’s huge. The size of-’
‘Yes, bigger than the Hill, you said. Big long walls lined with granaries.’
‘And yet…’ Scarface paused, ostentatiously waiting for any further interruption. ‘And yet once we get inside, the tribune, the centurions and me, well, the tribune, he whispers something to the centurion. And Two Knives, he walks off down the length of the store nice and slow. Like he’s after having a nice quiet look at the place without wanting it to be obvious, while the tribune starts asking the civilian questions about the place. But our young gentleman only does twenty paces before the old bloke that runs the place is after him like a dog on a rabbit, going on about needing felt overshoes over his hobnails to go in the granaries, and how they ain’t got any to spare, begging the officer’s pardon. So our boy just turns round and comes back as sweet as you like, and him and Latrine and the tribune, they look at each other like they’ve got the result they were looking for. Though what it was beats me.’
In the large tent that he shared with his wife, Felicia, Marcus was slumped in a camp chair while Felicia unlaced his muddy and blood-spattered boots, tossing the first of the pair onto the pile for cleaning. His mail shirt and weapons were already piled in one corner, awaiting the attentions of Lupus, Morban’s grandson. ‘Get that tunic off and I’ll put it in cold water. It’s a good thing it’s not your nice white one.’
She slyly glanced up at him to gauge his response, but found him staring at the tent’s wall, his expression dulled by whatever was happening behind his eyes. After a moment he realised that she was silent, and started guiltily.
‘I’m sorry, I was miles away. What were you saying?’
Felicia tossed the second boot aside and slowly stood up, her pregnancy now a visible bulge in her stola.
‘Your tunic.’
She held out a hand, waiting while he stripped it off to reveal his pale torso, the muscles finely sculpted by the unremitting daily exercise of carrying his armour and equipment.
‘Put this one on.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘The white one?’
‘It looks good on you, and all the others are still damp. You can’t hide it away just because it’s your best.’
He smiled at her and stood, pulling on the garment and adjusting its belt to ensure that the hem was above his knees, then took her in his arms.
‘I hide it away because it’s the one I wore when we got married.’
She smiled back, poking at a faded stain in the pale wool.
‘As if we’ll ever forget, since we have the evening’s wine to remind us.’ He winced, remembering the raucous carousing he and his brother officers had enjoyed that night, after Felicia had gone to bed and sent him back to join them. She smiled again, tugging his ear affectionately. ‘You had a lot of bad memories to deal with, and if the price of doing so was a few stains on a tunic I’d say it was good value.’
‘I killed again today.’
Her smile softened.
‘I know, my love. I can always tell, whether there’s blood on your armour or not. You may be a natural with your swords, but you’re not hardened to the results of using them, are you?’
Marcus shook his head.
‘Not only did I kill today, but I watched while Silus murdered three men in cold blood to make the fourth tell us where the rest of their gang was camped out. Yes, I know — ’ he raised his hands to forestall her response — ‘they were bandits, and they’d murdered a farmer and his men not long before, so they deserved their fate. And yet…’
‘And yet it seems you’re gradually becoming hardened to this life? Even if you could not kill a man in cold blood yourself, you watched another man do so without intervening? You fear that in becoming strong enough to defeat your enemies, you will perhaps become so like them that you risk losing that part of yourself that your father sought to make strongest? After all, you’ve told me often enough how he always stressed decency to your fellow man when he spoke to you about how a man should live.’
Her husband nodded, looking to the tent’s roof as he sought the memory of his father’s words, spoken in the precious days before imperial scheming had seen the senator and his family murdered, and their estate confiscated by the jealous and grasping men arrayed behind the young emperor.
‘“Dignity, truthfulness, tenacity, but above all, whenever you are able to exercise it, mercy.” That’s what he used to tell me whenever our conversation turned to the ethics that a member of the senate should live by. Slowly but surely I feel my grasp on his teachings sliding away from me. With every enemy I put to the sword I am a little less of the man he raised, and a little more like the men who destroyed our family.’
Felicia hugged him again, whispering in his ear.
‘I’ll never allow you to become anything like the men that performed those dreadful acts, and nor will your friends. But you will only survive this nightmare if you can harden yourself to do whatever you must to stay alive, and to protect those close to you.’
The tent’s flap opened, and Arminius put his head through it. Seeing the couple in each other’s arms he raised a hand and started to back away, but Felicia beckoned him to come in.
‘Exactly what my husband needs: a friend to take him for a drink and listen to the story of his day.’
Arminius squeezed through the flap, pushing the boy Lupus in front of him then bowing to the doctor and grinning at his friend.
‘The drink we can probably manage, eventually. The tribune sent me to fetch you, Centurion. There’s a ritual being held in Prefect Caninus’s temple tonight, and we’re respectfully invited to attend. I’d suggest you wear your cloak though; there’s a bitter wind out here that will cut you to the bone without it. And you, boy…’ He tapped Lupus on the shoulder as the child stood staring in dismay at Marcus’s soiled equipment. ‘You can get stuck into this lot. I want to see it all gleaming when we come back, and make sure you get every speck of blood off those rings. Don’t forget that it’s your birthday in a few days, and if you keep the centurion’s gear in the right condition you’ll see the benefit soon enough. Do a good job of it and we’ll practise with sword and shield in the morning, make a proper fight of it.’