Snake and Scorpion (Forgotten Heroes of Rome Book 13) by Autieri Jerry

Author:Autieri, Jerry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

16

The following morning Varro stepped through the routine of wearing his mail and strapping up his caligae while suppressing yawns. Sleep had eluded him despite his weariness, both physical and mental. He had stayed up late into the night debating his deductions with Curio and Falco. They had traded harsh whispers in the darkness of their tent until all of them collapsed into sleep.

He now tightened the straps of his sword harness and adjusted his gladius for a quick draw. Falco continued to adjust his helmet, never finding a comfortable fit, and Curio wrapped himself in a thin cloak against the dawn chill.

All around him, tribunes and centurions headed for the command tent for the morning meeting. This would be Varro’s first meeting with Consul Merula, and he regretted the puffiness he felt under his eyes.

“Awful night,” Falco confirmed. “I kept dreaming I was in a small boat on a lake and couldn’t stop it from capsizing.”

“Sorry,” Varro said. “At least you didn’t dream of flowers. I kept smelling them, and bees the size of rats flew out and attacked me.”

“I don’t remember my dreams,” Curio said, absently starting at the blue trees in the misty distance. “At least, not for long after I wake up. I dreamed of something bad last night. The gods are trying to speak to us, it seems.”

“I think Varro does enough talking to ruin anyone’s dreams,” Falco said, at last adjusting his helmet. He spread his hands wide as if inviting assessment.

“It’s as good as that secondhand pot is going to look.” Varro now gathered them by their shoulders and started for the command tent. “We’ve got a big day ahead. Let’s worry about our discussion from last night on another day. First, I’ve got to get Dano freed, as I promised him. Then we can put his skills to good use.”

They joined the flow of officers into the command tent. The guards at the entrance stopped them as unfamiliar faces, but once they established their credentials, they were allowed inside.

An opening in the tent’s top let in morning light, which was supplemented with clay lamps situated around the square tent. The officers crowded into the front area, encircling a table with a hide map pinned to it. Centurions pressed against the tent walls and lined up by their seniority. Tribunes stood beside the table edges to better view the map.

The tent hummed with low chatter, and the odor of sweat permeated the crowd. Curio’s cloak was already too much for the heat, and he flipped it off his shoulders as they found openings against the rear wall.

The officers had their cliques, and most ignored their arrival, while others gave them furtive glances. Some commented on their ragged appearance, but Varro dismissed these as the speculations of the indolent wealthy. Cavalry officers, being from equestrian or patrician families, were notorious for judging appearances. Veteran soldiers would judge him based on his conduct and service record. Varro knew which clique he would rather impress.

Consul Merula entered along with Legate Marcellus.

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