He tried to shrug off despair, but it pressed heavily on him. How could he hope to take on Rome? These men had come to his banner after a few quick victories against the hated Romans, but they were young men filled with dreams of Sparta, Thebes, and Athens. Dreams of Alexander that he might not be able to bring about. His head bowed and his heavy fists clenched as the men scurried around him, not daring to speak to the furious king.

*                                                      *                                                      *

“We should go back,” Suetonius said. “One more attack while they are breaking camp. They’d never expect it.”

“And how would we escape again, with dawn coming?” Julius replied irritably. “No. We march until we find cover.” He turned his face away so as not to see the sullen expression that he knew would follow his words. Even that was slightly more bearable than the vicious pleasure that had gripped the young officer since the raid. It sickened him. For Julius, the short battle had been without honor, a simple practical business of reducing the enemy numbers. The hot rush of excitement that had filled his veins in the fighting had faded as soon as he was clear, but Suetonius had been almost sexually aroused by the easy killing.

The veterans too, Julius noted, had moved away from the Greek camp as fast as they were able, without cheers or care for minor wounds. They kept a professional silence, as he had ordered. Only Suetonius had chattered as they marched, seemingly unable to stop himself spilling over with self-congratulation.

“We could send in our archers and fire from cover before retiring,” he said, his mouth opening wetly at the prospect. “Did you see the sentry I shot? Straight through his throat, perfect, it was.”

“Be silent!” Julius snapped at him. “Fall back in the ranks and keep your mouth shut.” He’d had enough of the man and there was something deeply unpleasant in his enjoyment of the slaughter. It hadn’t seemed to surface in the sea battles, but somehow, killing men as they slept had awakened something ugly in the young officer, and Julius wanted to push it as far from him as he could. A thought of the crucifixions flashed into his mind and he shuddered, wondering if Suetonius would have shown mercy or gone on to the very end of them. He suspected it would have been slow if Suetonius had been giving the orders.

The young watch officer didn’t drop back immediately, and Julius nearly struck him. He seemed to think they shared some private relationship that sprang from the memories in common, right back to the cell on Celsus’s ship. Julius looked him in the face and saw that it was twisted in spite, the mouth working as he thought of a reply to the order.