Free To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II) by Edward Crichton Page B

see her jerk the rope to dislodge the hook, stepping aside to ensure it didn’t fall on her.  After it landed, I picked it up and secured it to her rig for the last time, and we moved off into the small city.
    There might have been a thousand rows of tents before us, each containing eight sleeping men, and I had no idea how many tents there were per row.  To find our way through, we simply picked a narrow avenue in one of the denser areas of the camp and slowly made our way towards the center, looking for a potential legionnaire to interrogate.
    We didn’t have to wait long before o ur first candidate appeared.
    A man stumbled out of his tent nearly on top of us, muttering about how he really had to use the bathroom.  Helena moved first and tackled him to the ground, covering his mouth in one quick motion.  I knelt beside him and pushed my small boot knife against his throat.
    “Galba,” I whispered into his ear.  “Where’s his tent?”
    The man’s eyes were filled with shock, wide open and unbelieving, as though he were witnessing an apparition before him.  He trembled and I heard the sound of running water beneath me.  I glanced down to see that the man had urinated himself.  Helena looked down as well, just in time to shift her knee out of the way.  She looked back up at me and rolled her eyes.
    “ Galba? ”  I whispered with some force this time, driving my knife deep enough to draw a droplet of blood.
    The legionnaire shook his head vigorously, his eyes wide with terror.  Helena moved her hand just slightly.  “Two tents behind the praetorium , three in the direction of the porta decumana .”
    I nodded.  “Thanks.  Your helpfulness won’t go unrewarded.”
    Helena covered his mouth again and I shot him with a tranq dart before he could do something stupid.  She looked at me with wide, annoyed eyes, not finding my parting words nearly as humorous as I did.  We waited a few seconds for the affects to take hold and I removed the dart.  I rolled him near the entrance to his tent with the shove of my boot.  A random passerby wouldn’t suspect any foul play, just another drunk passed out on the ground, and he’d probably be too out of it when he woke up to even remember us.
    I flicked my fingers towards the praetorium and we carefully stalked our way through the camp.  It took us about fifteen minutes, but we were eventually in position to cross the via principalis .
    Luckily, tr affic wasn’t heavy, but there were guards posted sporadically.  If not for a few parlor tricks Santino had taught us about creating diversions and dividing and conquering, this operation would have been over almost before it began.
    But we were lucky, and our insertion seemed complete when we found ourselves in front of the tent the legionnaire had indicated was Galba’s.  I glanced at my watch.  0330.  We had a few hours before the army started its daily hustle and bustle.  I followed Helena as she reached the tent’s entrance and gave the camp one last look.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so I patted her on the shoulder and followed her inside.
    I stepped into a large open space, littered with mobile furniture and storage containers scattered throughout in a haphazard manner.  After a second to take in my surroundings, I went directly to the bed.  Looking down, I saw the fat face of the ugly man I knew to be Galba.  I never did figure out how his head always looked so fat while his body stayed in the tip top shape of any legionnaire. 
    Helena and I exchanged nods, and I bent over to clasp a gloved hand over his thick lips.
    His eyes shot open, but he didn’t flinch, try to esca pe or utter a noise.  In his eyes I saw immediate recognition, even with our concealing facemasks.  He was one of the few people who knew who we were.  I held a finger vertically over my covered mouth and waited for him to nod in understanding.  When he did, I slowly removed my hand.
    “You,” he growled.  “I