Free Arrows of Fury: Empire Volume Two by Anthony Riches Page A

better go and get your men ready to move. Let’s see just how bad this is going to be. Oh yes, and there’s this …’
    He turned back quickly, jabbing a fist into the transit officer’s face and breaking his nose with an audible crack, then threw a right hook into the reeling man’s jaw which dropped him dazed to the wooden floor.
    ‘Prick.’
    Marcus crossed from the transit office to the closest barrack and opened a door at random. Inside the barrack’s stone-built cell, packed in like sardines on a market stall and dimly lit by the single small window through which the dawn’s chill was seeping into the room, eight Hamians were waiting quietly, fully equipped and ready to march. Raising an intrigued eyebrow, he walked briskly up the line of eight-man rooms to the officers’ quarters, rapped once on the door and walked in. The three olive-skinned men waiting for him snapped to attention, the tallest of them making direct eye contact in a way he guessed was designed to communicate status. He was well built, with wide-set brown eyes above a strong nose and a broad jaw, black hair cropped close to his scalp. Making the instant appraisal of all first meetings, Marcus was struck bythe apparent unassuming confidence in the man’s gaze, direct but without any challenge.
    ‘At ease, gentlemen. Who’s the ranking soldier here?’
    The tall Hamian nodded briefly, keeping eye contact.
    ‘I am, Centurion.’
    ‘Your rank?’
    ‘I am Acting Centurion Qadir ibn Jibran ibn Mus’ab, Centurion. I currently command both this century and the other, barracked across the way.’
    Marcus nodded, looking at the other two men with a raised eyebrow.
    ‘These men are my seconds, Hashim and Jibril, Centurion.’
    ‘I see. Very well, Acting Centurion, I am Marcus Tribulus Corvus, your new centurion. Your two centuries are to join the First Tungrian cohort as an over-strength century, as replacement for our losses in recent battle. You shall be my chosen man, and these two men your watch officers. You’ll need two if you’re to manage that many men. Perhaps it would be better if you were to provide your men with their commands for the time being, until I have the measure of their command of Latin?’
    The Hamian nodded with an impressive imperturbability.
    ‘Certainly, Centurion. Shall I parade the men? We are ready to march, as you may have seen.’
    Marcus frowned.
    ‘Yes. I’m sorry, your name again?’
    ‘Please simply call me Qadir, Centurion.’
    ‘Thank you. And why … why are you ready for the road, I mean? I expected you all still to be sleeping.’
    Qadir smiled, placing both hands behind his back and bowing minutely.
    ‘It was not hard to predict your arrival. The noise of the Tungrian century departing ensured that we were awake, and once it became clear to us that they had been bribed out of the transit officer it was easy enough to guess that we would be part of the compensation he would offer to you. I saw one of your colleagues checking the Tungrians last night, and he didn’t look like a man who wouldtake disappointment quietly. We have been here for three weeks now, watching other centuries arrive and leave, but now the barrel is clearly empty.’
    Marcus fought the urge to smile.
    ‘I see. Very well, Chosen Man Qadir, please parade the centuries for inspection.’
    The big man nodded deferentially and spoke a few soft words to his comrades. They left the room in silence, leaving Marcus and Qadir alone in the quiet of the small room. The Hamian seemed content to wait for Marcus to speak first.
    ‘How long have you been acting centurion, Qadir?’
    ‘Six months, sir. And eight years before that as a soldier, watch officer and chosen man.’
    Marcus raised an eyebrow.
    ‘Eight years from recruitment to centurion? They must make officers very quickly wherever it is that you’ve come from. Either that or you’re something special. I apologise for taking your command. You’ll get it back soon enough, once