Wounds of Honour: Empire I Read Online Free PDF Page A

visit the bathhouse, get a decent meal and see how much the local food has improved since I was last here? On me, as celebration of our survival this afternoon. We’ll stay in an inn owned by an old friend of mine, like me discharged and unable to leave the place after so many years. He joined all the other poor bastards that have taken root here for want of anywhere better to be, and now he runs the best guest house in the Yew Grove vicus.’
    He smiled easily with the memory.
    ‘Petronius Ennius was standard-bearer of the second cohort when I was First Spear, built like a fortress latrine, just like most statue-wavers. We made a fine pair when we could work a leave pass at the same time, had the women squirming in their seats when we passed by! I get the time to stay in his inn all too rarely these days. Come on, let’s go and get the blood washed off these chariot-pullers and see they’re fed and watered, I feel the sudden need for a bath and a drink.’
    The innkeeper greeted Rufius warmly, clapping him on the back with a hand the size of a dinner plate.
    ‘Back already, Tiberius Rufius? Only a few days ago you were telling me that the quality of my wine was only fit for removing rust from armour, now you can’t stay away from the place. Although I can see from the state of your tunic that someone ’s upset you recently. Well then, what’s the story?’
    He listened intently to Rufius’s retelling of the ambush, laughing quietly when his friend recounted having to threaten the Sixth’s legionaries to keep them in line.
    ‘Nothing changes, does it? I remember you having to do much the same thing to keep one or two of our weaker-kneed sisters in their places when the blue-noses had their last little revolt.’
    At the end of the story he pursed his lips, whistling to show his appreciation of their escape.
    ‘You were lucky, old friend, very lucky. If that tent party of auxiliaries hadn’t chanced on you …’
    Rufius nodded sagely, a dark look in his eye.
    ‘I know. We were carrion. Mind you, if that was good fortune I still wonder just what chance put those tribesmen in our path.’
    ‘Yes … Well, enough of your boasting, you haven’t introduced me to your bloodstained young friend …’
    ‘This is Marcus Valerius Aquila. A fellow traveller from the south, and soon to be a brother in the service of Mars, all the way from Rome itself. And, despite the slightly travel-worn appearance of his clothes, not to mention the fine pattern of dried blood across his face, a man of influence, promised a position on the Sixth’s staff.’
    The innkeeper turned back to Marcus with a gravely inclined head.
    ‘My apologies, a young gentleman . So, will you both be staying, sirs?’
    Rufius pulled a mock grimace.
    ‘Despite the hideous expense of your lodging, the mediocre quality of your board and the watery nature of your wine, yes, we both need lodging for the night.’
    ‘Excellent. My man Justus will see to your horses and take the baggage to your rooms. You take a couple of hours to sweat out that blood, and I’ll have two of my very best roasted duck waiting for you, cooked in their own fat and served with a sauce of wild honey, red wine and herbs. And for you, Rufius, because I know your needs of old, I’ll crack open my last amphora of a rather special Iberian red. How does that sound?’
    As the pair made their way through the town towards the fortress baths, clean tunics under their arms, the familiar sound of hobnailed boots clattering against the road’s surface swelled behind them, echoing through the narrow streets until the sound and its reverberations merged into a constant roar. The windows of the buildings to either side of the road, shutters closed against the cold, were quickly opened to allow the curious to look into the street. Several of the female onlookers obviously shared a keen professional interest in the arrival of a body of soldiers at the fortress to judge from the way that hair was