The Crossroads Brotherhood

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Authors: Robert Fabbri
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Action & Adventure
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around the corner with his brothers in his wake as the doorman slumped to the ground. Within moments he made the door. Tigran held it open, the second doorman and the doorkeeper lay dead in a pool of blood at Vahram’s feet. Just inside the vestibule, Blandinus lay cast to the ground.
    Lucio and Cassandros dragged the dead doorman in from outside and Marius shut and bolted the door.
    Magnus looked through the curtains into the dimly lit atrium. Kurush and four or five of his men were struggling to hold back the Crossroads Brothers as they tried to force their way through from the courtyard garden. A gaggle of three frightened boys huddled in one corner. To his left the stairs leading up to the first floor were deserted. ‘Right Sextus, you stay here guarding the door and keep an eye out for anyone coming down them stairs. Kill anyone who isn’t wearing a Cohort tunic.’
    ‘Kill anyone not dressed like me,’ Sextus said, thoughtfully digesting his orders. ‘And look after Blandinus. If he starts to come round knock him on the head, but gentle like.’
    ‘Knock him on the head gently, right you are Magnus.’
    ‘Marius get those boys, one unconscious but alive. Alright lads, let’s do this.’
    Magnus sprang through the curtain with a savage roar and his sword held steady at his side. Marius, Lucio, Cassandros and the Armenians followed, each yelling at the tops of their voices.
    The sudden distraction from behind caused the Albanians to falter for an instant. Two went down immediately to the swords of their attackers in front whilst the rest gave ground.
    Magnus leapt over a couple of the sumptuously upholstered divans that littered the room and pounced on Kurush, locking his forearm around the whore-boy master’s throat. ‘I don’t take kindly to greasy foreigners fucking with my clients,’ he growled in his ear.
    ‘Magnus!’ Kurush managed to gurgle through his constricted windpipe, ‘I thought we were square.’
    ‘Now we’re square.’ With a brutal thrust he forced the finely honed blade of his sword into Kurush’s side, up under the ribcage, slicing through his liver and into a lung. Blood spurted from the Albanian’s mouth onto Magnus’ forearm as Kurush went rigid with pain. Around him his brothers despatched the remaining defenders in a welter of dismemberment and savagery. With a final upwards thrust that lifted Kurush off his feet, Magnus felt the man go limp. He let him fall to the floor with the sword still embedded, his eyes open in sightless shock and his beard redder than it had ever been in life.
    Magnus looked around breathing heavily, wiping the blood from his forearm on the side of his tunic. The only men left standing were his brethren and the Armenians, all also trying to catch their breath as they looked down at the Albanians sprawled at their feet. Magnus looked closely at the dead. None of them was the young rapist.
    Servius came in from the garden flanked by four brothers. ‘It’s all clear back in the rooms. As you predicted there were no customers at this time of night so no tricky questions will be asked. We’ve suffered two flesh wounds and Festus got a nasty gut wound. I’ve had him sent back with a couple of lads already.’
    ‘Good. Where’s the rapist?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘Not back there brother.’
    Magnus looked around the atrium. Marius stood over the bodies of two of the boys, a third lay unbloodied to one side. ‘He must be upstairs.’ He turned to walk back to the staircase but stopped in his tracks.
    Sextus was standing over the body of a young man looking pleased with himself. ‘One tried to sneak out Magnus,’ he said wiping his sword on the dead man’s trousers.
    Magnus closed his eyes and bit back his anger. Sextus had only done as he had been told and killed a man not in Cohort uniform. ‘Shit!’
    ‘What is it brother?’ Servius asked.
    ‘How can we get the rapist to fuck Blandinus if he’s dead?’
    ‘Ah yes, I see. We’ll have to improvise.

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