Legionary: The Scourge of Thracia (Legionary 4) Read Online Free Page B

comrades.
    Dusk descended as he entered the forum. Torches and lamps blinked into life and the first shrieks of laughter and crashes of breaking glass sounded from the gathered crowds of carousing folk. Cackling drunks stumbled across his path, groups roared out chorus after chorus of ribald song, and near the middle of the square, some furious short man endured the indignity of a circle of his taller friends throwing him up in the air again and again, each time with a great cry of merriment. A violent ripping sound rang out, and the next time he was tossed up in the air, his trousers were absent, and watching women squealed in mock horror at the short man’s flailing genitals while his friends roared with laughter. The sound of gaiety along with the reek of cheap wine and roasting meat hastened Pavo’s step.
    Watered wine. Stick to the watered wine , he nagged himself as he made his way over to one open air tavern bearing a vine wreath and ale-stirring pole above the arched entrance and shoved his way through. The place was separated from the street by a red-brick half-wall, and contained twenty or more overpopulated tables and benches, with wine and ale barrels and jugs lining a snug in the rear wall. He scanned the myriad ruddy faces for the few he sought. He could not help but chuckle when he caught sight of Sura, standing by a brick pillar. The brash, blonde-mopped and fair-skinned legionary, Pavo’s closest comrade since enlisting nearly two years ago, was in his element, it seemed, in mid-flow of some doubtlessly fanciful tale – his hands waving in illustration – while two local women close to twice his age listened intently. He stepped a little closer to listen in.
    ‘The Persian Shahanshah?’ Sura snorted derisively in response to one woman’s question. ‘He was a worthy foe but, ultimately, he came up short against me. Now I’ve returned to these parts,’ he waved his hands, palms down, in a calming gesture, ‘so hopefully I can sort out the trouble in Thracia. Unofficial King of Adrianople, you see,’ he said, jabbing a thumb into his chest. ‘They say I’m cut out to lead a legion. I can see where they’re coming from. If I had a few cohorts at my command, I’d . . . I’d . . . ’ Sura stammered as he realised he hadn’t thought his story through and, as usual, his efforts began to unravel. His cheeks grew rosy as his lips flapped soundlessly.
    ‘You’d have Durostorum and all in the north back in imperial control?’ Pavo offered, stepping in next to him.
    Sura did a double-take at this suggestion then grinned, seeing it was Pavo. He shoved an untouched cup of wine from a cluster of several on a shelf into Pavo’s hand then turned back to the women, nodding hurriedly. ‘Aye, er . . . all of the north.’
    The women cackled as they latched onto Pavo’s game.
    ‘Reconquer old Dacia north of the river too maybe?’ Pavo added.
    Sura now fired a swift and sour glare at Pavo. ‘Pavo for fu-’ he started then stopped, seeing Pavo was alone. ‘Where is she?’ he asked.
    Pavo shook his head. ‘Gone.’
    Sura frowned, turning away from the women, his brow furrowing in deep ruts. ‘Gone?’ he said, his mouth agog as he reached out to place a consoling hand on Pavo’s shoulder. ‘You mean . . . ’
    ‘No, she’s well – as far as I know. But she left the city and headed out into Thracia for this Great Northern Camp we’ve heard so much about,’ Pavo replied.
    ‘The Northern Camp?’ Sura spluttered in a mix of relief and dismay. He shook his head and cocked an eyebrow. ‘I shouldn’t be so surprised really. Drawn to trouble like a whore to the docks, that girl. Er . . . ’ he shrugged in apology at the inappropriate analogy then clasped a hand to Pavo’s shoulder. ‘Look, we’ll find a way to get to her and to protect her.’
    Pavo said nothing, simply clasping a hand to Sura’s shoulder in reply. Sura glanced at Pavo’s leather bracelet, made to speak, then