“I would appreciate it,” called Vibulenus in a tone of icy command, “if you men would go about your business while I confer with my superior.”
The face of the pilus prior went professionally blank. Niger, more boyish in spirit as well as appearance, blinked like a dog who has been kicked for jumping up to greet its master. Then both minds reasserted themselves and the men stepped away, still held by Quartilla. Clodius Afer was wearing a grim smile.
“As you were saying, Your Worship?” Vibulenus prompted with an expression as supercilious as that of one campaigning politician meeting another.
Close up, the Commander’s face seemed to be tinged with jaundice. Whether that was true, or an accident of reflection from the yellow bodysuit — or possibly just something within the tribune’s mind — was beyond Vibulenus’ reckoning. His lips, which were more nearly circular at rest than a human’s should have been, pursed and paused. At last the guild officer decided to say, “We have noted with approval your actions on the field today, military tribune. My guild was very pleased with the loyalty and dedication you showed, as well as a level of initiative unexpected in an asset.”
Even without the hinted motion of the Commander’s ears, Vibulenus would have known that “initiative” was an attribute with risk when it appeared this far down the chain of command.
“My guild seeks to reward proper behavior,” the Commander continued. He was absurdly slight when viewed from so nearby. The strength and technique which Vibulenus had gained from untold battles and drills would permit him to snap the childsized neck before either of the guards, slowed by their armor, could intervene.
“Is there some particular reward you would like to receive?” said the voice that did not come directly from the Commander’s lips.
“Your Worship,” said Vibulenus as his mind took over before his body began to tremble at the risk he was accepting, “I would like to lead my fellows home and arrange the recruitment of new legions of full strength for you.”
That was ridiculous — Romans enlisting as mercenaries for foreign traders! But if the guild let them march home, then the aftermath could be dealt with somehow, some way. . . .
“That’s ridiculous,” snapped the Commander. “If you can’t —” He started to step back between the bodyguards who flanked him.
“Then, sir,” the tribune continued without hesitation or evidence that he understood his rebuke, “perhaps you could arrange that one of the females be withdrawn from —” he licked the lips that had just gone dry “—general duties and place her at my service. The woman Quartilla.”
He did not dare to look behind him to see whether she was in the room or even within possible earshot.
“You want one of your own?” the guild officer said with amusement, shifting his weight back onto his leading foot. “Very interesting.”
His dainty fingers made an uncertain gesture at the tight legs of his garment. “If I were to be abandoned to this wretched duty for any length of time, I’d make a study of your behavioral patterns for my own amusement.”
Vibulenus’ tight smile was a mask that waited for an answer that he dared not anticipate.
“Yes, of course,” said the Commander. “We grant your petition. Now, go on and carry out your duties, remembering that the eyes of my guild are on even the least of its assets.”
The slim figure turned and strode through the bulkhead door, giving a wary glance at the carnivore who paced before it in guard. The toad-things followed their master by pairs, without audible summons.
Only after the last of the armored monsters disappeared into the forward section of the vessel did the Pilot leave the doorway. The portal closed, sparkling like lightstruck dew.
Gaius Vibulenus Caper turned, feeling disoriented by the complex of emotions which eddied through him.
It takes time to clear a structure of four thousand men, even when the entire back wall gapes open. Quartilla and the two centurions had obeyed Vibulenus’ order, but they were still within fifty feet of the tribune when he turned around.
The three smiled when Vibulenus’ head-to-head discussion ended without sudden violence. Niger waved at his old friend and Clodius Afer called a comment which could be heard only in its cheerfulness.