Brothers in Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

reading Ovidius again.’
    Macro shook his head. ‘No need for the theory when you know the practice. Same as anything in life.’
    ‘Spoken like a soldier.’
    Macro bowed his head. ‘I thank you.’
    Cato turned his attention back to the scale armour. He was very tempted to buy it, largely because it would give him a distinguished appearance in the eyes of those officers who scorned him. And yet that might be the cause of even more disdain, he feared. His fine new armour would merely give them fresh cause to sneer at the common soldier who had risen so far above his station in life. Reluctantly he gestured towards the mail.
    ‘I’ll have that.’
    The merchant smiled and placed the scale shirt back into its blanket and hurriedly returned it to the chest. ‘Two thousand eight hundred then, my dear Prefect.’
    ‘Two thousand five hundred.’
    Cyrus looked pained and his dark brows knitted together in a brief frown. ‘Come, sir, you jest with me. I am an honest businessman. I have a family to feed and a reputation to uphold. There is no armour you could buy for that price that would match the quality of my cousin’s work. Sir, think on it. If I accepted such a price, it would only be because I knew that all the claims that I have made for its quality were not true. And you would know it too, my dear sir. The fact that I would not sell it for less than, say, two thousand seven hundred, is eloquent proof of my belief in the highest standards of my wares.’
    Cato fixed his features into an implacable expression as he responded. ‘Two thousand six hundred.’
    The Syrian sighed. ‘My heart grows heavy that you should treat me so . . .’ He paused as if in an agony of indecision, then continued in a long-suffering tone. ‘However, I would not see you go into battle poorly protected, honoured Prefect. For that reason alone, I would accept two thousand six hundred and seventy-five.’
    ‘Two thousand six hundred and fifty, and not a sestertian more.’
    The merchant smiled. ‘We have a deal. For that price, and your old breastplate, which has no value, as we have already decided.’
    Cato shook his head. ‘Just the coin. And I’ll want a mail shoulder cape and fastenings as well.’
    Cyrus paused and held out his hand. ‘You strike a hard bargain, Prefect. You have the advantage of me. But I will accept your offer.’
    Cato took his hand and there was the briefest pressure of flesh on flesh before the merchant withdrew and bent over the chest to fish out a small mail cape whose rings were made of cheaper iron, but still riveted, Cato noticed with relief. He considered whether it was worth insisting on having the cape match the mail of the vest, but then decided not to. He was never comfortable when haggling over a purchase and was now keen to conclude his business with the merchant.
    He crossed the tent to the iron-bound chest beneath his camp bed and took the key from round his neck and unlocked it. He had been paid in a mixture of gold, silver and bronze coins and counted out the payment into a leather pouch. In the meantime the merchant called for his slaves to come and remove his trading chest from the tent. Having checked the coins and totalled their value, the merchant bowed deeply and backed out of the tent flaps.
    ‘An esteemed honour to have done business with you, sir. Should any of your brother officers be in need of armour, be sure to inform them of Cyrus of Palmyra, proud purveyor of the finest protection to the heroes of the empire. The gods save you.’
    With a last bow he disappeared and Macro puffed out his cheeks as he stared down at the mail vest.
    ‘Hope it’s worth it.’
    ‘Time will tell.’ Cato drew a breath and called out, ‘Thraxis! In here!’
    A moment later a short, broad-shouldered auxiliary trooper hurried into the tent and saluted. Though he had joined a Thracian unit, Cato’s new manservant was from Macedonia and had the dark features and narrow eyes of his race. Cato had