Copper Centurion (The Steam Empire Chronicles) Read Online Free

become invisible,” Constantine quipped, nervous fingers straightening his silverware.
    Alexandros gave a low laugh and replied, his strong baritone quiet in the low hum of the dining room, “There’re still a few eyes on you, but most people seem put off by your decision not to join the political table.” He nodded toward the men relaxing on the chaises. One of them gave a slight wave as he saw Constantine looking in his direction. Others gave him decidedly cool glances.
    “That’s the governor and a few of his Senate cronies. After those air battles above Brittenburg, we got tasked to retrofit up here at Northern Airbase Hadrian. One of those senators owns the company that got tasked with the retrofit, as though our own engineers and mechanics weren’t good enough!” Alexandros grumbled. “Thing is, they did such shoddy work on so many things that my guys ended up going back through and doing the whole thing over again from top to bottom. It threw that denarii-pincher into a tizzy when I tossed his so-called mechanics off the ship with a few of our large ballistae pointing at them. They didn’t seem eager to come back on. When he came down to demand I let his workers back aboard, I said I would only if he agreed to ride on the ship after they were done.”
    Constantine smiled. “I’m sure he didn’t want to risk it.”
    “Exactly,” Alexandros said. “By the way, have you met our new political overseer? All the way from Rome—Senatora Octavia Pelia!”
    “I have met her, actually; she seems fairly competent to me. She gave a speech last month on the Brittenburg Incident.”
    “Why Tribune, I didn’t know you had been keeping tabs on her.”
    Constantine felt his cheeks heat. “Who says I’ve been keeping tabs on her?” At Alexandros’ level look he added, “Fine, maybe I just like knowing who the politicians around me are.”
    “Especially the good-looking ones.” Alexandros joked. “Am I the only one who sees this?”
    “Evidently, Your Air-captainness.”
    Chuckling, Alexandros held up his hand. “Before we continue, here’s the feast!” He sat back and they watched the arrival at their table of a steaming hot turkey, surrounded by all the trimmings and glistening with drippings. Two waiters placed it slowly on the table while another stood by sharpening a large carving knife.
    Eyes wide, Constantine scooted back from the bird. “I sincerely hope you didn’t order anything else, Rufius! They’ll have to roll us out of here as it is!
    About an hour later, tribune and captain lounged back in their dining chairs; the remnants of the meal strewn on the plates and platters before them. Constantine pulled out a small coin purse and deposited a few large golden denarii on the table. “That ought to be sufficient, don’t you think?” he asked. Alexandros examined the coinage and nodded.
    They both stood, adjusting the straps of their belts. “You sure you don’t want them to put it in a box for you so you can eat it later?” the older man asked, alluding to the perpetual hunger of young men.
    Grinning, Constantine shook his head. “I don’t want to be eating turkey for a month!”
    They moved to the door to leave, only to encounter a party headed in the opposite direction. The two groups neatly intersected and, engulfed by the large and loud entourage, Constantine found himself face to face with his superior officer, General Kruscus Minnicus. The tribune raised a hand in salute, holding it while the general returned a half salute.
    “Tribune Appius! I’m so very glad to see you here. It’s great to know we’ll have the ‘Victors of Brittenburg’ along for our trip to the far north,” the general said slyly.
    Constantine was confused. As far as he knew, Admiral Tritonus was in charge of the expedition.
    Minnicus smiled as if perceiving the junior officer’s thoughts. “The admiral is still in charge of the expedition, but Roma HQ wanted someone more . . . experienced with ground