An Emperor for the Legion Read Free Page A

any word of Avshar?” For he was sure the wizard-prince was trying to organize the unruly nomads he led to deliver just that attack.
    But she shook her head. “None at all, no more than of Thorisin. Curious, is it not?” She herself had seen war and skirmished against the Yezda when they first conquered Vaspurakan; she had no trouble following the tribune’s logic.
    By nightfall the Romans and their various comrades were less than a day from Khliat. Granted a respite by the Yezda, the legionaries erected their usual fortified camp. The protection had served them well more times than Marcus could recall. Men bustled about the campsite, intent on creating ditch, breastwork, and palisade. Eight-man leather tents went up in neat rows inside.
    The Romans showed the Videssians and others who had joined them what needed to be done and stood over them to make sure they did it. At Gaius Philippus’ profane urging, order was beginning to emerge again in the legionary ranks. Now the newcomers, instead of marching where they would, filled the holes fallen Romans had left in the maniples.
    Scaurus approved. “The first step in making legionaries of them.”
    “Just what I thought,” Gaius Philippus nodded. “Some will run away, but give us time to work on the rest, and they’ll amount to something. Being with good troops rubs off.”
    Senpat Sviodo came up to Marcus, an ironic glint in his eye. “I trust you will not object if my wife spends the evening inside our works.” He bowed low, as if in supplication.
    Scaurus flushed. When the Videssian army was intact, he had followed Roman practice in excluding women from his soldiers’ quarters. As a result, Senpat and Nevrat, preferring each other’s company to legionary discipline, always pitched their tent just outside the Roman camp. Now, though—“Of course,” the tribune said. “After we reach Khliat, she’ll have plenty of company.” He refused to say, or even to think, If we reach Khliat.…
    “Good,” Senpat said. He studied the tribune. “You can loosen up a bit after all, then? I’d wondered.”
    “I suppose I can,” Marcus sighed, and the regret in his voice was so plain he and Sviodo both had to laugh. So it’s to be our women with us wherever we go, is it? the tribune thought. One more step along the way from legionary officerto head of a mercenary company. He laughed at himself again, this time silently. In the Empire of Videssos, captain of mercenaries was all he’d ever be, and high time he got used to the notion.
    The Yezda were thick as fleas round Khliat; the last day’s march to the city was a running fight. But Khliat itself, to Scaurus’ surprise, was not under siege, nor was any real effort made to keep the Romans from entering it. As Nevrat had remarked, in victory the nomads forgot the leaders who had won it for them.
    That was fortunate, for Khliat could not have repelled a serious attack. Marcus had expected its walls to be bristling with spears, but only a handful of men were on them. To his shock, the gates were open. “Why not?” Gaius Philippus said scornfully. “There’s so many running, the Yezda would be trampled if they tried to get in.” A gray-brown dust cloud lay over everything eastward, the telltale banner of an army of fugitives.
    Inside, panic still boiled. Plump sutlers, calculating men who could smell a copper through a wall of dung, threw their goods at anyone who would take them, so they could flee unencumbered. Singly and in small groups, soldiers wandered through the city’s twisting streets and alleyways, calling the names of friends and lovers and hoping against hope they would be answered.
    More pitiful yet were the women who crowded close by Khliat’s western gate. Some kept a vigil doomed to heartbreak, awaiting warriors who would come to them no more. Others had already despaired of that and stood, bejeweled and gowned, offering themselves to any man who might get them safely away.
    The Khatrishers were