Praetorian: The Nemesis Blade by S.J.A Turney

Author:S.J.A Turney [Turney , S.J.A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Four days had passed since the meeting in the headquarters upon the return of Ingomer. The current group of native trainees had departed the camp that morning, and another warband was expected imminently. Rufinus had managed one more tour of the camp the next morning before the German king had argued Veremundus into putting a stop to such things, citing the alternative, since Ingomer was all in favour of simply killing Rufinus and the other captives.

Rufinus was ready. Actually, not quite ready. He’d rather have had more time to plan, but with the reduced population of the camp right now, there would not be a better time, and every day spent here with Ingomer in residence was risking an offhand beheading. At least he had managed to identify hut fourteen in his last visit, and so now he knew what he had to do.

He had started work the moment he returned from the hut that day. All he had was the pen he had stolen from the prefect’s office, a simple bronze stilus with a point at the end, stained black from years of ink. He’d looked at every way out of the hut, but the door was constantly watched, and the grilles on the windows too solid to move. The only feasible way was through the timbers. He’d found the weakest board, handily on the back wall, and had started to use the pen to pry the nails out, slowly, one by one. It had been slow, painstaking work with such an inefficient tool, and he’d limited the work to times when the ambient noise of the camp would help cover any sounds, in case the guard out front should hear anything. Then, today, he’d thrown caution to the wind. He’d managed to remove six of the ten nails over three days at such a rate, unheard, but now that the camp was half empty, he needed to go, and so today he’d worked out the last four without waiting for such cover. Still, he’d clearly not been heard, and had felt a small elation as he lifted the board carefully aside and was rewarded with a space just large enough to shuffle through on his back.

The sun had gone down perhaps an hour ago. That meant that all major activity in the camp had stopped, but the tribesmen and auxiliaries both would now be preparing food and drinking beer and wine to recover from their day’s efforts.

Rufinus lowered himself to the floor and poked his head out through the hole, looking left and right. The space between here and the next hut was empty and dark, the only sound the distant hum of conversation and camp life. Carefully and slowly, he pulled himself out through the hole and into the dust. At least it had not rained for some time, and the ground was dry. Rising slowly, he looked about again to be sure there was still no movement, and then paced quietly along the length of the hut and ducked briefly around the end to view the next alley.

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