“You are right,” Julius said. “We had better get started along that path. It’s too wide to be just for animals, so there should be a village hereabouts. We’ll talk it out when we have a chance to feel like Romans again, with good food in our bellies and these stinking beards cut off.”

The group rose and walked toward the break in the foliage with him, leaving Suetonius alone, his mouth hanging open. After a few moments, he closed it and trotted after them.

*                                                      *                                                      *

The two torturers stood silently as Antonidus viewed the wreck that had been Fercus. The general winced in sympathy at the mangled carcass, glad that he had been able to enjoy a light sleep while it was going on.

“He said nothing?” Antonidus asked, shaking his head in amazement. “Jupiter’s head—look what you’ve done to him. How could a man stand that?”

“Perhaps he knew nothing,” one of the grim men replied.

Antonidus considered it for a moment. “Perhaps. I wish we could have brought his daughters to him so I could be sure.”

He seemed fascinated by the injuries and inspected the body closely, noting each cut and burn. He whistled softly through his teeth.

“Astonishing. I would not have believed he had such courage in him. He didn’t even try to give false names?”

“Nothing, General. He didn’t say a word to us.”

The two men exchanged a glance again, hidden behind the general’s back as he bent close to the bound corpse. It was a tiny moment of communication before they resumed their blank expressions.

*                                                      *                                                      *

Varro Aemilanus welcomed the ragged officers into his house with a beaming smile. Although he had been retired from legion life for fifteen years, it was always a pleasure to see the young men the pirates left on his small stretch of coast. It reminded him of the world outside his village, distant enough not to trouble his peaceful life.

“Sit down, gentlemen,” he said, indicating couches that were thinly padded. They had been fine once, but time had taken the shine from the cloth, he noted with regret. Not that these soldiers would care, he thought as they took the places he indicated. Only two of them remained standing and he knew they would be the leaders. Such little tricks gave him pleasure.

“Judging by the look of you, I’d say you have been ransomed by the pirates that infest this coastline,” he said, his voice drenched in sympathy. He wondered what they would say if they knew that the pirate Celsus often came to the village to talk to his old friend and give him the news and gossip of the cities.

“Yet this settlement is untouched,” said the younger of the two.