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thief you are."
"I, a thief? Here you try to rob me without even drawing sword. Why, after the
price I had to pay for the cowhide, after the hard labor I lavished on it, I
would be stealing from my own children to let it go for seven."
They eventually settled on six silver coins, a quarter of a goldpiece. Marcus
was vaguely displeased; had his heart been in the haggle, likely he could have
got the belt for five. He shrugged.
He could not really make himself care. These days, there was not much he did
care about.
At least he had the belt. The one he was wearing was old and frayed. He
unbuckled it, slid off his sword and dagger, and leaned them against his leg.
Holding up his trousers with one hand, he began threading the new belt through
the loops.
He was fumbling for the one behind his back when a cheery voice said, "Aye,
that's the hard one; I
remember from the days when I wore breeches."
"Nepos!" The tribune started, then had to make a quick grab to keep from
losing his trousers and his dignity. He whirled to face the priest, and his
weapons fell clattering to the flagstones. His face scarlet, he stooped to
retrieve them, and almost lost his pants again.
"Here, let me help you." Nepos lifted Scaurus' knife and sword out of the
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slush on the pavement. He waited until the tribune had the belt on, then
handed them back to him.
"Thank you," Marcus said stiffly. He did not want to have anything to do with
Nepos, not after he had drugged him and then listened with Thorisin and Alypia
as he bared his soul.
If Nepos sensed that, he did not show it. "Good to see you," he said. "You've
been as hard to catch as a cockroach lately. Do you just scuttle along the
edges of the walls, or have you actually figured out a way to disappear into
the wainscoting?"
"I haven't had much use for people," Marcus said lamely.
"Well, considering what you've been through, one could hardly blame you."
Seeing the Roman's face freeze, Nepos realized the blunder he had made. "Oh,
my dear fellow, your pardon, I pray you."
"You will excuse me, I hope." Voice as expressionless as his features, Scaurus
turned to go.
"Wait! In Phos' name, I beg you."
Reluctantly, Marcus stopped. Nepos was not the sort of priest who kept his
god's name on his lips every moment of the day. When he called on Phos, he had
important reason, or so he thought.
"What do you want with me?" The tribune could not contain his bitterness.
"Haven't you seen
enough to glut you already?"
"My friend if I may still call you such . . ." Nepos waited for some sign from
Scaurus, but the tribune might have been carved from stone. Sighing, the
priest went on, "Let me tell you how deeply I regret how that entire affair
turned out... as does the Emperor himself, I might add."
"Why? It didn't hurt him any."
Nepos frowned at the harsh way Marcus spoke of Thorisin, but continued
earnestly, "But it did, in reducing you. His Majesty had the right to ensure
you were involved in no sedition against him, but when it came to probing in
such, uh, intimate detail into your private affairs. .." Nepos hesitated
again, casting about for some way to go on without doing more damage. Finding
none, he finished, "He should have stopped his questions sooner."
"He didn't," Marcus said flatly.
"No, and as I told you, he is sorry for it. But he is also stubborn think back
to the case of Taron
Leimmokheir if you doubt that. And so he is slow in admitting any error, even
to himself.
Nevertheless, please note he has you in the same important post you held last
year."
"It's not as important as the command at Garsavra," the tribune said, still
unwilling to believe.
"No, but fill it well, raise no further suspicions, and I daresay you will
have your old rank back again come summer, when campaigning season is here
again."
"Easier for you to say than for Thorisin to do."
Nepos sighed again. "You are a stubborn man, Scaurus in gloom as in other
things, I see. I leave you with a last bit of advice, then: judge by the
event, not before it."
Marcus blinked. Nepos' admonition might have come from the lips of a Stoic
philosopher. The priest bent his plump frame into a half-bow and departed. The
wan winter sun gleamed off his naked pate.
Scaurus frowned, watching him go. Nepos might think him somber, but the priest
was lighthearted himself, which probably made him double any good things
Thorisin had said and halve the bad. If the Emperor really wanted him back in
meaningful service, he could have restored him by now. No, the tribune
thought, he was still out of favor with Thorisin and that, as Nepos had
recommended, was judging by the event.
Page 203 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl ocenkijessi.opx.pl
thief you are."
"I, a thief? Here you try to rob me without even drawing sword. Why, after the
price I had to pay for the cowhide, after the hard labor I lavished on it, I
would be stealing from my own children to let it go for seven."
They eventually settled on six silver coins, a quarter of a goldpiece. Marcus
was vaguely displeased; had his heart been in the haggle, likely he could have
got the belt for five. He shrugged.
He could not really make himself care. These days, there was not much he did
care about.
At least he had the belt. The one he was wearing was old and frayed. He
unbuckled it, slid off his sword and dagger, and leaned them against his leg.
Holding up his trousers with one hand, he began threading the new belt through
the loops.
He was fumbling for the one behind his back when a cheery voice said, "Aye,
that's the hard one; I
remember from the days when I wore breeches."
"Nepos!" The tribune started, then had to make a quick grab to keep from
losing his trousers and his dignity. He whirled to face the priest, and his
weapons fell clattering to the flagstones. His face scarlet, he stooped to
retrieve them, and almost lost his pants again.
"Here, let me help you." Nepos lifted Scaurus' knife and sword out of the
Page 202
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
slush on the pavement. He waited until the tribune had the belt on, then
handed them back to him.
"Thank you," Marcus said stiffly. He did not want to have anything to do with
Nepos, not after he had drugged him and then listened with Thorisin and Alypia
as he bared his soul.
If Nepos sensed that, he did not show it. "Good to see you," he said. "You've
been as hard to catch as a cockroach lately. Do you just scuttle along the
edges of the walls, or have you actually figured out a way to disappear into
the wainscoting?"
"I haven't had much use for people," Marcus said lamely.
"Well, considering what you've been through, one could hardly blame you."
Seeing the Roman's face freeze, Nepos realized the blunder he had made. "Oh,
my dear fellow, your pardon, I pray you."
"You will excuse me, I hope." Voice as expressionless as his features, Scaurus
turned to go.
"Wait! In Phos' name, I beg you."
Reluctantly, Marcus stopped. Nepos was not the sort of priest who kept his
god's name on his lips every moment of the day. When he called on Phos, he had
important reason, or so he thought.
"What do you want with me?" The tribune could not contain his bitterness.
"Haven't you seen
enough to glut you already?"
"My friend if I may still call you such . . ." Nepos waited for some sign from
Scaurus, but the tribune might have been carved from stone. Sighing, the
priest went on, "Let me tell you how deeply I regret how that entire affair
turned out... as does the Emperor himself, I might add."
"Why? It didn't hurt him any."
Nepos frowned at the harsh way Marcus spoke of Thorisin, but continued
earnestly, "But it did, in reducing you. His Majesty had the right to ensure
you were involved in no sedition against him, but when it came to probing in
such, uh, intimate detail into your private affairs. .." Nepos hesitated
again, casting about for some way to go on without doing more damage. Finding
none, he finished, "He should have stopped his questions sooner."
"He didn't," Marcus said flatly.
"No, and as I told you, he is sorry for it. But he is also stubborn think back
to the case of Taron
Leimmokheir if you doubt that. And so he is slow in admitting any error, even
to himself.
Nevertheless, please note he has you in the same important post you held last
year."
"It's not as important as the command at Garsavra," the tribune said, still
unwilling to believe.
"No, but fill it well, raise no further suspicions, and I daresay you will
have your old rank back again come summer, when campaigning season is here
again."
"Easier for you to say than for Thorisin to do."
Nepos sighed again. "You are a stubborn man, Scaurus in gloom as in other
things, I see. I leave you with a last bit of advice, then: judge by the
event, not before it."
Marcus blinked. Nepos' admonition might have come from the lips of a Stoic
philosopher. The priest bent his plump frame into a half-bow and departed. The
wan winter sun gleamed off his naked pate.
Scaurus frowned, watching him go. Nepos might think him somber, but the priest
was lighthearted himself, which probably made him double any good things
Thorisin had said and halve the bad. If the Emperor really wanted him back in
meaningful service, he could have restored him by now. No, the tribune
thought, he was still out of favor with Thorisin and that, as Nepos had
recommended, was judging by the event.
Page 203 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]