Semper Fidelis Read Online Free PDF

ten times the current size. It was just as well the rebellious tribes had retreated to lick their wounds and bury their dead. Hadrian, who seemed like a sensible man, was seizing the chance to bring reinforcements and another legion.
Pera was ushering Ruso through the side door and into the corridor when an orderly came to ask for guidance about a diet and a ban dager wished to report that he thought a sprained wrist might be fractured.
Pera settled the diet question and promised to have a look at the wrist shortly. Turning to Ruso, he said, “What would you like to inspect first, sir?”
“Let’s start with the wrist.”
Pera looked pleased. Clearly the last thing he needed was to waste time escorting visitors around. By the time he pushed open the door of one of the treatment rooms to reveal a woebegone young man clutching his right arm, three more men had come to ask him for help or instruction, two of them wanting orders about what should be cleared out and what should be packed for the impending move to Deva.
“Why don’t I see to this chap?” Ruso suggested, making a mental note to talk to Pera about training and delegation.
“He’ll be honored, sir.”
“Then we’ll both be out of your way.”
 RUTH DOWNIE
    When Pera grinned, he looked almost as young as the recruits. Sulio had confounded Dexter’s attempts to clear the area by leaping beyond the straw mattresses, and several men had fallen awkwardly in the rush to get clear of the plummeting body. As Ruso splinted and strapped up the wrist and congratulated the orderly on spotting the symptoms that might indicate a cracked bone, he went through the usual speech about the bandaging being loose enough for swelling. “Come straight back if your fingers start to tingle or go numb. We’ll splint it properly in a couple of
    days, then you’ll have it held in position for about six weeks.” “Will I be discharged, sir?”
Ruso looked up from the wrist, surprised. “Gods above, no. It’ll probably
    be fine in a couple of months. I’ll give you a chit to show your centurion at Deva, so he won’t undo all my good work with sword drill.” He turned to the orderly. “Could you orga nize that straightaway, do you think?”
    The orderly turned to leave. One of the men who had been on the roof limped out ahead of him on a ban daged foot.
When they had gone Ruso said, “You can do any training that doesn’t involve the arm. Keep the wrist in a sling during the day for at least a week, and don’t use it until we say you can.”
The youth said, “Thank you sir,” with all the gratitude of a man who had just been handed a bagful of snakes.
Ruso said, “How’s the pain?”
“Not too bad, sir.” The youth seemed almost disappointed.
“You’ll be excused from carrying your kit back to Deva.”
Most men would have been pleased to hear that, but this one seemed not to care. Ruso was tempted to point out that, compared to the dead man, he had little to complain about. Instead he said, “I’m sorry about your comrade. Did you know him well?”
“It’s all right, sir,” said the youth, staring at the floor. “You don’t need to pretend. We know nobody wants us at Deva.”
Ruso frowned. “What’s given you that idea?”
“We’re an unlucky unit, sir.” The youth’s weary gaze met his own. “They say we’re—”
Before he could finish, a voice from the doorway called, “You there! Get a grip!” The youth gulped and fell silent.
Pera appeared, clutching a bottle of green fluid. He crouched down beside the youth and hissed in his ear, “Sulio chose to take his own life. The others were accidents. Any more talk like that and you’ll be on a charge. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is that understood?”
The youth straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and stared into the middle distance. “Yes, sir!”
Ruso wondered who “the others” had been, and reflected that the prankster from the mortuary was much changed.

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