Wounds of Honour: Empire I Read Online Free PDF

hastily let down and, in at least one case, breasts placed on open display. The standard-bearer and leading century of a legion cohort swept around the corner behind them at the march, heading for the fortress gates in the dying light of dusk. Rufius pulled Marcus into a doorway and off the street as the leading troops poured past, rank after rank of soldiers pounding up the street with their heads back to suck air into their bursting lungs, belting out a bawdy marching song.
… my brother keeps a restaurant with bedrooms up the stairs, but none of them will talk to me ’cause I’m a legionnaire!
    Rufius smiled with fond memories, his lips moving to the song as the legionaries kept coming in a seemingly unending column. Centurions and chosen men stalked alongside their centuries, shouting commands at their men to carry their fucking spears straighter and stop eyeing the bloody prostitutes, while century after century pounded past. As had been the case with the troops who had escorted him up the road from Dark Pool, Marcus found their appearance disappointing after the spit and polish he’d got used to in the Guard. Shields were clean, but not shining, armour and weapons lacked the finely detailed workmanship to which he was accustomed, and their clothing was utilitarian – rough leather boots, heavy woollen tunics and coarse woven leggings all spattered with mud from the road.
    His eye was caught by a group of horsemen, however, whose equipment looked every bit as fine as that he was used to, their polished cuirasses tied together with clean ribbon. Tiberius Rufius pointed at them and put his mouth close to Marcus’s ear to shout over the din, coughing at the dust kicked up by the units’ passing.
    ‘It must be at least half of the Sixth, out for fitness training. That’s the legatus and his staff, with an escort from the legion’s cavalry. They’re drafted in from an Asturian cohort from up north on the Wall, but most of them are German. Funny how the roughest barbarians always look the smartest once they’re given uniforms …’
    Marcus nodded distractedly, watching the legion’s commander ride past in the midst of his staff tribunes, grim-faced cavalrymen to their front and rear. The man’s head turned as his horse passed the doorway, and he nodded recognition at Tiberius Rufius as he passed out of sight. Marcus looked at the older man, his eyebrows raised.
    ‘You know the legatus?’
    ‘I’ve sold the Sixth locally bred cattle, and given him a little information about the border region. What else can an old soldier do but help out his former mates?’
    They stood in silence as the rest of the column ground past, waiting until the last century had passed over the bridge and into the fortress before leaving their doorway and stepping out into the near-dark street and continuing on their way. The garrison’s bathhouse was as large as was necessary to cope with the cleansing and leisure needs of several thousand legionary infantry, the imposing halls lit with hundreds of large torches.
    Changed out of their battle-stained clothes, the two men oiled their naked bodies and slipped on wooden-soled bath shoes to protect their feet from the hot floors. They went through the chilly frigidarium and into the steam room, finding seats among the dozens of soldiers who sat perspiring in the clammy heat. Tiberius Rufius pointed to a floor mosaic depicting Mars in full armour, and brandishing an infantry sword.
    ‘That’s your first god for the next few years! Who were you brought up to respect the most?’
    ‘The household shrine is dedicated to Mercury, so that’s who I always prayed to first.’
    ‘A good choice in a merchant’s house. Mercury won’t begrudge Mars your attention while you’re in the service, though. Always be sure to seek his blessings before you embark on any course that may end in battle. Jupiter , it’s hot. I can feel the dirt being forced out of me. Scraper! Over here, boy!’
    They