“Servilia!” Brutus yelled at the top of his voice, keeping the sword leveled at the men. They drew daggers from their belt sheaths and advanced slowly.

“You cocky little bugger!” one said, waving his blade. “Think you can come in here and do what you like? I never got the chance to kill an officer before, but I’m going to enjoy this.”

Brutus stiffened. “Stand to attention, you ignorant bastards,” he snapped at them. “If I see a blade pointing my way, I will have you hanged.”

The two men hesitated as he glared at them, responding to the tone almost as a reflex. Brutus took a furious step toward them.

“You tell me how men of your age have left their legion to guard a whorehouse. Deserters?”

“No . . . sir. We served with Primigenia.”

Brutus held his face stiff to mask his surprise and delight. “Under Marius?” he demanded.

The older of the pair nodded. By now they were standing erect before him, and Brutus looked them up and down as if it were an inspection.

“If I had time, I would show you the letter he wrote to send me to my century in Greece. I marched with him to the steps of the Senate house to demand his Triumph. Do not shame his memory.”

The two men blinked in discomfort as Brutus spoke. He let the silence stretch for a moment.

“Now, I have business with a woman named Servilia. You can fetch her to me, or take me to her, but you will act like soldiers while I’m here, understood?”

As the two men nodded, a door slammed open at the end of the corridor and a female voice snapped out.

“Stand away from him and give me a clear line of sight.”

The two guards didn’t move, their eyes locked on the young centurion. The tension showed in their shoulders, but they remained still.

Brutus spoke clearly to them. “Is this the one?”

The older man was sweating with strain. “She is the lady of the house,” he confirmed.

“Then do as she tells you, gentlemen.”

Without another word, the two guards stepped aside to reveal a woman sighting down the length of an arrow at Brutus.

“Are you Servilia?” he said, noting the slight shake of her arms as they began to tire.

“The name you have been yelling like a street brat selling fish? I own this house.”

“I am no danger to you,” Brutus replied. “And I’d ease off on that bow before you shoot someone by accident.”

Servilia glanced at her guards and seemed to find comfort in their presence. With a release of breath, she unbent the bow, though Brutus saw she held it so it could be quickly drawn and fired if he rushed at her. She had known the threats of soldiers before, he guessed.