Gods and Legions by Michael Curtis Ford Page B

patched together a fabric of false accusations. He finally returned to the Emperor's palace steeped in blood, and trailing a chain of prisoners behind him in squalid misery. When they arrived, he even advised the executioner as to which types of hooks and instruments of torture would be most effective on which prisoners to make them confess their imaginary crimes. Since then he's been known as Paul the Chain.'
    Julian stared at me. 'Unbelievable. This is a man my cousin has sent to accompany me?'
    I nodded.
    'So what am I expected to do with him?'
    I shrugged. 'Keep him as far from you as possible, I suppose.'
    He turned and gazed straight ahead with a shocked look on his face. 'So we have two pimps and a spy. Who is the fourth man, Caesarius?'
    'Him I do not know. He joined us in camp only last night. A nobleman by his bearing. He keeps apart from the other three when traveling. Perhaps that is a good sign.'
    'Indeed.' Julian pursed his lips and thought silently for a moment. 'Call him over here, please. I should like to have a word with this man.'
    I dropped back to fetch the stranger from where he was riding in the very last ranks, seeking out stragglers who were attempting to sit at the side of the road, and swatting them with his sword. He was a tall, thin man, almost gaunt, with piercing blue eyes and a long ridged nose that betrayed a non-Roman heritage. His skin was dark and leathery, like that of a peasant who has spent his entire life outdoors in the weather, yet his bearing was graceful, and his clothing, though plain, was of a quality and fit indicative of a cost far beyond the means of a mere officer. He was a silent man, preferring the Roman nobleman's habit of communicating orders by a mere finger gesture or a flicker of a glance; when he turned to my summons I noticed his entire body poise and tense, like that of a finely trained boar hound on the scent of his quarry. He spoke Latin with a stiff ease and a slightly lilting foreign intonation that was barely perceptible, and impossible for me to place – one of those foreigners who have been so well schooled that they speak Latin better than native Romans, thereby betraying their foreign origins by their ability to speak too correctly. He heard me out, and then, reluctantly it seemed, spurred his horse up to take his place at the side of the Caesar's rocking sedan chair, while I followed close behind.
    When he arrived, he reined in his horse and saluted elegantly.
    'You summoned me, Caesar?'
    Julian looked at him. 'You are the man who joined our party yesterday, just before we separated from the Emperor? I don't even know your name.'
    'Sallustius,' the man said simply. 'Secundus Saturninus Sallustius.'
    'Sallustius,' Julian repeated thoughtfully. 'An unusual name. Are you Roman?'
    'I am. My father was a Romanized Gaul, a citizen and a nobleman, and I have been in the Emperor's service my entire career.'
    'Grew up – in Gaul?'
    'Yes, Caesar. My father's estate was outside Marseilles.'
    'You are different from the other men my cousin has assigned me. What horrible crime have you committed to be given the pleasure of this feeble company?'
    The man smiled sardonically. 'I volunteered.'
    Julian almost choked. 'Volunteered? Good God, why?' The man looked carefully at him for a long moment.
    Finally, his gaze turned to its habitual position on the far horizon and he shrugged.
    'Because I believe, I suppose,' he said, switching effortlessly to Greek, much to Julian's surprise, 'I believe that new blood is needed among Rome's command in Gaul. I believe that a man who comes from outside the standing school of plunder and abuse is needed to tame the province. If that means the Emperor's inexperienced young Greek-speaking cousin – then perhaps all the better.'
    Julian stared at him. 'You know that is not my mandate from the Emperor.'
    Sallustius did not miss a beat. 'I also believe that the Fates do not intend you to be a mere figurehead. And moreover, that you do not