Read Online The Emperor's Knives by Anthony Riches - Free Book Online
Authors: Anthony Riches
Ads: Link
bother telling me about Germania either, the whole province is riddled with queers. No boy, if you want to be a real soldier then you need to get sand in your crack!’
He advanced swiftly, testing Marcus’s defence with half a dozen swift strokes, grinning as the Tungrian retreated closer and closer to the men guarding the exit from the square. As his seventh cut sliced in low, aimed at Marcus’s left thigh, the younger man tossed his sword into his left hand and parried it wide, stepping quickly forward and twisting to punch a half-fist into Cotta’s right bicep and then straightened his body, using the momentum to swing a vicious back fist at the grimacing centurion’s face. Cotta barely managed to duck out of the blow’s path, giving the younger man all the time he needed to swivel to his right and hook the veteran’s leg with his extended left boot. The older man fell back onto the cobbles with a grunt of expelled breath, the sword falling from his nerveless fingers.
‘Get at him! Kill him while he’s down!’
Ignoring Dubnus’s bellowed encouragement, Marcus bent to pick up the fallen weapon, watching as Cotta recovered his footing and took a sword from each of the two nearest men. The veteran stood out of sword’s reach for a moment, breathing hard and appraising his opponent with a new respect.
‘I heard you were taught to fight by a soldier and a gladiator. Which one of them taught you that little move?’
Marcus closed the distance between them, scraping the soles of his boots across the cobbles.
‘The soldier, as I recall. He wasn’t up to much when it came to swordplay, but he knew more than enough dirty tricks.’
Cotta raised his blades.
‘Sounds like my kind of man. The gladiator must have been a faggot if he taught you to fight with two swords.’
Marcus shrugged again, his eyes locked on the points of Cotta’s blades, stepping closer still until the tips of their swords were touching.
‘He made a start. I perfected the style in a few battles that you might have heard of while you were lazing around Rome protecting fat-arsed politicians from their own stupidity.’
Both men lunged forward at the same time, their swords meeting each other and pushing wide as the soldier snapped his head forward to butt Marcus in the face, but the younger man was ready for the attack, ducking his head and then wrenching it back up to deliver a heavy blow to Cotta’s chin. The former soldier staggered backwards, spitting blood from his bleeding tongue and spluttering with laughter.
‘You cheeky young bastard!’
Marcus held his swords out ostentatiously wide of his body, then dropped them onto the ground with a clatter of iron on stone.
‘Shall we go to bare knuckles then, Cotta, or have you had enough?’
The older man shook his head, tossing his own weapons aside and feeling his jaw.
‘Fuck that, I think you’ve already broken one of my teeth.’
Albinus bridled, pointing at Marcus with a face contorted with rage.
‘What the fuck are you doing, Cotta?! Kill him!’
The ex-centurion wiped the blood from his mouth, shaking his head with a tight smile of warning.
‘If you want him dead so badly, Senator, you feel free to try to kill him.’
The senator put his face inches from the veteran’s, his features twisted by a snarl of rage.
‘I paid well for you to set up this cosy little business, Centurion, which means that I own you. Either you do as I tell you, and leave this traitor’s spawn bleeding here in the street, or I’ll have you …’
Something within Cotta snapped, abruptly and without warning, and Scaurus pursed his lips as the ex-soldier took a handful of his sponsor’s toga.
‘Paid me well, did you?’ He reached into his belt purse and dropped a handful of gold coins onto the cobbles. ‘There’s your money, Senator!’ He pulled the toga down until Albinus’s head was level with his chest, bending to snarl into the terrified man’s ear, grinding his words out
He advanced swiftly, testing Marcus’s defence with half a dozen swift strokes, grinning as the Tungrian retreated closer and closer to the men guarding the exit from the square. As his seventh cut sliced in low, aimed at Marcus’s left thigh, the younger man tossed his sword into his left hand and parried it wide, stepping quickly forward and twisting to punch a half-fist into Cotta’s right bicep and then straightened his body, using the momentum to swing a vicious back fist at the grimacing centurion’s face. Cotta barely managed to duck out of the blow’s path, giving the younger man all the time he needed to swivel to his right and hook the veteran’s leg with his extended left boot. The older man fell back onto the cobbles with a grunt of expelled breath, the sword falling from his nerveless fingers.
‘Get at him! Kill him while he’s down!’
Ignoring Dubnus’s bellowed encouragement, Marcus bent to pick up the fallen weapon, watching as Cotta recovered his footing and took a sword from each of the two nearest men. The veteran stood out of sword’s reach for a moment, breathing hard and appraising his opponent with a new respect.
‘I heard you were taught to fight by a soldier and a gladiator. Which one of them taught you that little move?’
Marcus closed the distance between them, scraping the soles of his boots across the cobbles.
‘The soldier, as I recall. He wasn’t up to much when it came to swordplay, but he knew more than enough dirty tricks.’
Cotta raised his blades.
‘Sounds like my kind of man. The gladiator must have been a faggot if he taught you to fight with two swords.’
Marcus shrugged again, his eyes locked on the points of Cotta’s blades, stepping closer still until the tips of their swords were touching.
‘He made a start. I perfected the style in a few battles that you might have heard of while you were lazing around Rome protecting fat-arsed politicians from their own stupidity.’
Both men lunged forward at the same time, their swords meeting each other and pushing wide as the soldier snapped his head forward to butt Marcus in the face, but the younger man was ready for the attack, ducking his head and then wrenching it back up to deliver a heavy blow to Cotta’s chin. The former soldier staggered backwards, spitting blood from his bleeding tongue and spluttering with laughter.
‘You cheeky young bastard!’
Marcus held his swords out ostentatiously wide of his body, then dropped them onto the ground with a clatter of iron on stone.
‘Shall we go to bare knuckles then, Cotta, or have you had enough?’
The older man shook his head, tossing his own weapons aside and feeling his jaw.
‘Fuck that, I think you’ve already broken one of my teeth.’
Albinus bridled, pointing at Marcus with a face contorted with rage.
‘What the fuck are you doing, Cotta?! Kill him!’
The ex-centurion wiped the blood from his mouth, shaking his head with a tight smile of warning.
‘If you want him dead so badly, Senator, you feel free to try to kill him.’
The senator put his face inches from the veteran’s, his features twisted by a snarl of rage.
‘I paid well for you to set up this cosy little business, Centurion, which means that I own you. Either you do as I tell you, and leave this traitor’s spawn bleeding here in the street, or I’ll have you …’
Something within Cotta snapped, abruptly and without warning, and Scaurus pursed his lips as the ex-soldier took a handful of his sponsor’s toga.
‘Paid me well, did you?’ He reached into his belt purse and dropped a handful of gold coins onto the cobbles. ‘There’s your money, Senator!’ He pulled the toga down until Albinus’s head was level with his chest, bending to snarl into the terrified man’s ear, grinding his words out
Similar Books
