LITMIR.BIZ

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of sight. He went back and retrieved his weapons. He was tempted to follow them, but he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol and opium. It would be foolish to challenge the temple guard again. Instead, he would find Hektor and Falto. He walked along the road until he saw Falto stumbling across a field, rubbing the back of his head.

      “Where’s Hektor?” Falto stopped. Disoriented, he tried to locate the voice. Lucius waved his arms. “Ohe! Weasel! Over here!” Falto walked to the road and sat, nearly falling over. “What happened to you?” Lucius demanded.

      Falto looked up with one eye closed and scrutinized his comrade. “I d’ah know. Some’un ‘it me on the head. Was it you?”

      “Yes. I wacked you with a wine jug. No! You idiot! I was in the garden. Where’s Hektor?”

      “I d’ah know. Isn’t he with you?” Falto blinked at Lucius.

      “Yes, he’s standing right next to me. That’s why I said—where is he?” Lucius stomped past him. “You’re useless, Weasel.” If he didn’t find Hektor soon, he’d have to leave him, since the guards would close the city gates at sunset. A halting figure stepped from behind a tangle-branched oak tree on the far side of the field. It was Hektor, holding his knapsack in his arms.

      “I keep dumping rocks here,” Hektor called. “When I get back, they’re gone. I think Falto was stealing my rocks.”

      Lucius grabbed the knapsack and up ended it.

      “What are you doing? You know how long it took me to find those?”

      Lucius tossed the knapsack at him. “It’s too late. He’s gone.”

      Cold fear punched Hektor in the stomach despite his drunkenness. “What! How?”

      Lucius didn’t bother to answer. He grabbed Hektor by the front of his leather armor. “I swear if you double cross me I’ll serve you up to the buzzards.” He shoved the man away from him. Hektor stared as the big legionary turned his back and strode across the field. He picked up a rock and calculated what his odds of success would be if he threw it.

      Lucius called over his shoulder. “Come on. I have an idea.”

      “Ohe, how well did your last idea work?”

      Without turning around, Lucius motioned for Hektor to follow. “Weasel’s, been bashed over the head, which fits my story. Come on.” They grabbed Falto and hauled him to his feet. As they hurried along the road, Lucius shared his plan. They tried to explain the plan to Falto, but he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do.

      “I think we need to kill the Weasel,” Hektor said.

      “Probably.” Lucius shrugged a shoulder. “No one would even notice.”

      “Why not?” Falto demanded with the blank eyes of a confused drunk. Lucius groaned with impatience. Hektor rolled his eyes.

      They reached the Antonia gate just as the guards were closing it. Lucius felt his first pang of fear. The opium was wearing off. If Valentius didn’t believe their story, Tribune Salvitto’s unyielding code of justice would order their execution.

      Knowing it was too late to try anything else, Lucius called to the legionaries in the watch tower. “Centurion Longinus is missing! Sound the alarm!” Lucius and Hektor dragged Falto between them. “And this man is injured!”

      Several legionaries ran to them. “Get a medicus!” shouted Lucius. He and Hektor let Falto fall to the ground. Men came from the barracks at the sound of the ram’s horn. Hektor saw the door to Centurion Valentius’s quarters open. He gestured to Lucius to get ready.

      Felix Pomponius Valentius had a slight build, but was stronger than he looked. He was shorter than most soldiers and wore caligae with extra thick soles to compensate. His thin lips were set in a perpetual frown. His long nose and bushy low eyebrows diminished the strength of his jaw and chin. His eyesight was failing, but squinting helped. At the age of fifty seven, he was going bald, left with only a crown of sparse graying brown hair.

      Valentius was the first-line commander to Adas. He was once the cohort centurion of the 3rd Cohors. During an uprising in Samaria, Valentius had disobeyed orders given by Cohort Centurion Tacitus of the 4th Cohors. Despite Valentius’s outranking him, Tacitus was in charge of the campaign, while Centurion Cornelius served at his second-in-command. Valentius ordered an unauthorized charge which resulted in the needless deaths of many soldiers. At his court-martial Valentius testified that the papyrus, explaining his orders, was damaged and illegible. The courier testified he delivered the orders intact. Neither man had collaborating witnesses who could confirm the condition of the papyrus at the time of delivery.

      Centurion Cornelius contended Valentius may only have miscalculated. Centurion Tacitus countered that if the papyrus was damaged, he should have kept it for proof rather than burn it, despite protocol. Tacitus wanted Valentius sentenced to fustuarium, to be stoned to death by the surviving soldiers he endangered. However, Valentius had an outstanding military record, having earned his way up to command the 3rd Cohors. Except for the dissenting vote of one judge, the court sentenced him to pecunaria multa, reduced pay, and gradus deiectio, reduction in rank. He was demoted to the 10th Cohors. Even though this was an act of mercy, it was devastating to his reputation. Rumors surfaced that Valentius led the attack in hopes of discrediting Tacitus. By rank, Valentius should have been in command of the campaign, not Tacitus.

      Equally tragic, Valentius was seriously wounded, which led to opium addiction. As the years passed, bitterness hardened his heart while addiction clouded his judgment and kept him in fear of bankruptcy. He earned a significant salary despite his pay reduction, but his opium debts were accumulating at an escalating rate. Many Roman families sold their children into slavery when faced with bankruptcy, but Valentius didn’t have that option. Fortunately, he had amassed a substantial retirement pension by working years past the usual age of retirement to compensate for less pay. If he could hold out until he retired, he would pay off his debts, but there would be little money left. Valentius would need more income.

      “What is going on here?” demanded Valentius. He glanced at Falto and turned to the closest legionary. “Go find Demitre.” The legionary headed for the slave quarters. Valentius shouted orders to reopen the fortress gates and to tell the stable slaves to saddle horses.

      “Sir, we must speak to you immediately,” whispered Lucius. The centurion eyed the big legionary, but ignored his request.

      Valentius spotted his Greek slave, a physician, and gestured at him impatiently. He scowled at the soldiers standing by. “Get this man to the infirmary. Demitre, see what’s wrong with him and report back to me.” The men obeyed.

      Valentius headed to his office indicating Lucius and Hektor were to follow. They stepped inside and he slammed the door shut. “What have you done, Octavean?”

      Lucius stood at attention. “Sir, it had been three days, and the centurion sent us to buy food. When we came back, the centurion was unconscious and there was a bloody rock by him. I told Falto to bandage his wounds while Hektor and I hunted for the culprit, but couldn’t find anyone. When we got back, the tomb was empty, Falto was unconscious, and the centurion was gone. His knapsack and weapons were still there. We again searched for the culprits who must have taken Centurion Longinus, but it was getting dark. We went back to the garden, got Falto, and came here.” Lucius removed Adas’s belongings from his knapsack. “Sir, the Nazarene’s followers obviously stole the body, and took the centurion.”

      Valentius circled the two men. He stopped in front of Lucius, inches from his face and slowly tilted his head back with a finger. “And this cut under your chin. Did the centurion’s sword do this, while it was in his hand? Longinus is mine. I told you to spy on him, not attack him. Your little story might fool Tribune Salvitto, but not me. If you have killed him, I will kill you. Did you?”

      “No, Sir! I did not! But when he returns, he will tell a different story.”

      Valentius’s unblinking eyes remained fixed on Lucius. “I bet he will. Which one of you hit him with the rock?”

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