The Emperor's Men 2: Betrayal by Boom Dirk van den

Author:Boom, Dirk van den [Boom, Dirk van den]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9783864024856
Publisher: Atlantis Verlag Guido Latz
Published: 2017-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

20

“Prefect?”

“Anything new?”

“No, nothing.”

“Then we do it, as discussed.”

Centurion Marcus Tullius Salius didn’t show how he felt. Renna had known him for ten years, had taken him along with every new posting, and therefore made sure that the man remained in his vicinity. Salius was not just a veteran with his good 15 years of service, he was Renna’s man for all seasons, the one he’d send, if there seemed to be no way out. Once Salius had, with his men, hand-picked legionaries, overwhelmed an Alan chieftain, behind the lines of his soldiers, and abducted him from his own camp. He had rescued the wounded Renna from a barbarian ambush without getting much as a scratch himself. He had escaped from Persian slavery and had brought the head of his former lord.

Salius didn’t really look like a feared warrior, he was rather lean, almost too slim for the power that resided in him. His harmonious face was close to beautiful, and his curly hair was often a target of good-natured ridicule. Making fun of Salius was no problem, as he seemingly took every humiliation in stride. That was certainly connected to the fact that the centurion knew absolutely what he was worth. Renna had never known him to be other than totally self-controlled, and always of cold, disciplined precision. Sometimes he had the impression that the centurion was absolutely soulless, a killing machine, feeling no joy in his actions. Salius had no great leadership qualities – his promotion to centurion had happened more pro forma; Renna never would have transferred the command of more than 20 or 30 selected men to him. But this centuria, although well below nominal strength, was the private command of the dreaded man, directly responsible to the prefect. No legate or tribune dared give Salius an order. The centurion followed Renna, and he obeyed exactly. If he had any doubts in a matter, he expressed them once and at the beginning but never showed any trace of defiance.

This time there had been no criticism at all. Salius had thrown a look at the quiet Saravica from the third floor of the Harbor Master’s office and had accepted Renna’s order to retake the ship with stoic composure. He knew that he would be left with the details, and from the moment he had been instructed, the precise mechanics of his mind had fallen into gear.

He looked again at Renna, but the prefect had no further instructions. Without a greeting, Salius turned around and walked down the stairs. In a large room 22 selected men waited for him. They had a lot in common, were disciplined, trusted the centurion, all excellent fighters with and without weapons. They all wore nothing but a towel wrapped around the loins. All of them were rubbed with a black paste that would stick to their skin even for weeks, no matter how much they bathed. All wore no more than a thin, long-drawn knife in their hands, Persian style.

And all of them could swim.

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