To Crown a Caesar (The Praetorian Series: Book II) by Edward Crichton Page A

really was.  That impression had been hammered into my brain over so many years with a hammer worthy only of Thor, but I never realized it quite so much as I did right now.
    “Agreed,” I answered finally.  “Consider a cease fire in affect.”
    “Not yet,” she said, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.  “I need something from you first.  Consider it a gesture of good faith.”
    When I saw the smile on her face my heart dropped.  “What?”
    “How old are you?”
    I turned away from her as quickly as could.  “No.”
    She punched me in the back, yet another of her endless beatings that actually hurt.  “Honestly, Jacob, you are ridiculous.  We’ve known each other for years and I still only think you’re in your early thirties, but I don’t actually know.  You won’t even tell me what month you were born in.  You’re acting just like Santino.”
    “I don’t like birthdays,” I said truthfully.  There were too many sad memories associated with them.
    “Just tell me the day.  I don’t even need to know the year.”  When I didn’t say anything, she continued insistently.  “Now!”
    I rolled back over and sighed.  “Fine.  It’s the day Augustus died, and yes, I’m in my thirties,” I said grudgingly, even though I was only thirty two.  Although, technically, there was a chance I was still only thirty one, since we left the future in July and arrived in Rome in September, bypassing my birthday month of August completely.  I honestly didn’t know.  “If you can figure out the date, you’ll know.”
    “August nineteenth,” she responded almost immediately.
    My eyes narrowed.  “How did you know?”
    She smiled.  “You really don’t think I pay attention to your lectures, do you?  You’re a surprisingly good teacher.  Besides, you always seem in a bad mood that day, and yes, you’re that bad it’s memorable.”
    I chuckled.  “I guess you aren’t so bad after all.  At least you’re learning.”
    “Don’t get too excited,” she said.  “We s till have a lot to talk about.”
    While her eyes told me there was still more healing that needed to be done before she went back to truly trusting me again, she offered me a small smile before turning her head to look at the bed again.
    “Go to sleep, Jacob,” she whispered.
    I watched her pull Galba’s linen sheet to her chin, but before she fell sleep, as I was sure she would do in seconds, she spared one last glance at me.  It was a neutral glance, but the gesture alone made me feel a whole lot better.  I edged just a bit closer to my companion and fell asleep in minutes.
     
    ***
     
    I woke up eight hours later rested, attentive and happy, even with the legions outside constantly reminding me of their presence.  Pulling away from Helena as gently as I could, momentarily forgetting it normally took a thunderstorm to wake her up, I moved to the edge of the bed and stretched my arms and my legs.  Satisfied I’d worked out any grogginess I might have felt, I reached into my cargo pocket and pulled out my radio.  Turning it on, I pressed the PTT button twice in quick succession, and waited for Santino’s reply.
    I started to worry when his return clicks didn’t immediately come but after a noticeable three second delay, he responded in kind.  I chuckled.  Even though he had only communicated by the click of static, I could still sense his frustration.  I placed the radio back in my pocket and pulled out my MRE.
    R eading the label, I was relieved to discover that it wasn’t one of the dreaded meat patty variants.  Perhaps we were finally rid of the vile creations.
    With a small sigh, I opened the package that contained two entrees, an appetizer, a dessert, coffee powder, and juice mixtures.  I reached in to pull out an entrée but hesitated just before extracting it.
    E ach and every time I opened one of the ready to eat meals, I was reminded of the fact that we were quickly running through the last of