Legionary: Viper of the North Read Online Free PDF Page B

Pavo.
     
    ‘And he is a commendable soldier, sir,’ Quadratus continued. ‘Played more than his part in the Bosporus mission. A campaign bloodier than most I can remember. Helped keep this empire in one piece, sir.’
     
    Lupicinus snorted at this. ‘The mission to old Bosporus was a debacle; little more than a cull of half of the border legions.’ He jabbed a finger at each of them. ‘It’s down to you that we’re so stretched now!’ His face split with a malicious grin as his riders and the ten legionaries behind them erupted in belly laughter. Pavo noticed that one towering legionary in particular seemed to be relishing the humiliation. The man had sunken eyes and pitted skin. Pavo glared back at him, feeling his blood boil. Then he froze, feeling a cold blade slip under his chin.
     
    ‘What’s this?’ Lupicinus cooed, having hooked his spatha blade through the leather strap around Pavo’s neck to lift the phalera clear of his mail vest. ‘Legio II Parthica?’
     
    ‘My father’s legion, sir,’ Pavo barked, straightening up, trying to shrug off his anger.
     
    ‘And now just bones in the eastern sands. Slain in Bezabde were they not? Every last one of them?’
     
    Pavo’s teeth ground like a mill, and he struggled to keep his stare straight ahead. His face twisted as he watched Lupicinus rotate his blade on the strap, as if musing as to whether to cut it and take the piece. Pavo tried to stay calm, but rage overcame him and he filled his lungs to shout at the man.
     
    But the breath stayed in his chest as, from behind the riders, one of the comitatenses legionaries gasped; ‘Sir!’
     
    Lupicinus turned on his saddle, pulling his spatha away from Pavo. The legionary had one arm outstretched, pointing across the river.
     
    Pavo turned, following the legionary’s finger. His skin crawled. There, at the far bridgehead, the bush and treeline seemed to be rippling – the classic prelude to a Gothic infantry attack. He thought of the earlier distant Gothic war horn. What if it had not been civil strife after all?
     
    ‘Oh, bloody heck!’ Avitus growled as he saw it too and started fumbling with the ballista, the crew of three helping him. Then they stopped when Avitus pushed back with a groan. ‘We’re out of bolts!’
     
    Quadratus turned to Lupicinus. ‘Sir, send a rider to the fort or the training field to summon a fifty, enough to cover the bridgehead!’
     
    Lupicinus looked momentarily rattled, but after a few anxious shuffles on his saddle he licked his lips and glared at Quadratus. ‘I give the orders here, Centurion, and I will be damned to Hades like a coward if I am going to call for help. Now, ready at the bridgehead!’ He waved the group of XI Claudia legionaries and his ten comitatenses forward. At this, Quadratus’ teeth ground like rocks.
     
    Pavo rushed into position, shoulder to shoulder with Avitus and Sura, as they had fought many times before. But, caught cold, they were without shields or spears, having only their spathas to fight with. This handful of Roman swords would do well to hold back anything more than a small number of Gothic infantry. The treeline continued to rustle, and the cluster of Romans stood in silence, unblinking, snatching breaths, the roar of the Danubius the only noise around.
     
    ‘Shy fellows, these Goths?’ Lupicinus said, finally. ‘Perhaps we should go over there and show them how to launch an attack?’
     
    Quadratus shared a weary look with Pavo, Sura and Avitus on the front line. ‘That’s how they operate, sir – the Gothic chosen archers. You’ll be almost on top of them, think you have the upper hand, then you’ll have a dagger in your neck or an arrow in your back. Best thing we can do is use our position, hold the bridgehead. They won’t come at us if we stay here.’
     
    ‘And that is how we gained an empire in the first place, is it? Cowering behind defences and waiting to be attacked?’ Lupicinus retorted. His