“Them and their lion-head banners,” Simon sneered, cracking a nut between his mug and the table. “My sweet, why don’t you bring me some more of that mead, and then take a seat on my knee and share it with me—”

“Don’t you be sweet-talking me! You know what I cost, and I want coin in hand before I’m sitting on your knee or any other part of you—”

“I’m inclined to think well of the Sixth right now.” I draped an arm around my redhead’s neck, savoring the news I’d been waiting to drop all night. “Our centurion, in his infinite wisdom”—we all paused to spit and swear—“has decided that with the newest influx of our brothers from the Sixth Ferrata, the camp is becoming overly crowded—”

“We could have told him that!”

“Actually I did tell him that,” said Titus. “He didn’t listen to me either.”

“—and those men who have arrangements in town might lodge there, provided they pay for the privilege.” I tilted my chair back, smug. “So while you bastards are bunking with the Sixth and their lion-head banners, I’ll be snug in bed with Demetra.”

“Hey,” said my redhead, poking my shoulder.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll have plenty of time for you.” I dragged her head down for a kiss. Simon pitched more nutshells at me. Julius, who liked to brag he was descended from the legendary Gaius Julius Caesar just because he had the same balding head and hook nose, made a rude gesture at me without coming up for air from his whore’s breasts. “You’ll be eating that swill from the legion cooks,” I told them with relish, “and I’ll wake up every morning to Demetra’s bread—”

“Where’s my javelin?” Philip asked his two giggling half-naked girls. Philip was a lean little Greek, small but quick, and the only time he didn’t have his dice in his hand was when he had his javelin, and when he had his javelin you prayed to whatever god you had that he wasn’t pointing it at you.

“You know where your javelin is, legionary!” his girls giggled. “Standing at attention like a proper little soldier, he is—”

“Of course you’re all welcome to come eat bread and roast pork whenever you like,” I concluded. “Didn’t I mention that part?”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Boil put down the knife he’d been preparing to whiff through my hair. “Tell her Boil’s coming tomorrow after sentry duty.”

“Boil, that’s an interesting name,” Titus said. “How did you get it?”