FicWad

Stanislav sighed. "You know, it seems that these two convicts are going to be causing us more difficulty than I first imagined." He looked to his guest, and shook his head. "Do you understand the difficult place this puts me in?"

He sat down, and put his head in his hands. "Two dead. Isla and Godrick, dead! I can scarcely believe it. Godrick was a bit of a fool, but he was competent. And Isla! Never met a person, man or woman, as skilled with a knife as she was." He reached for a goblet and pitcher, and poured himself a drink. He looked to his guest. "Would you like some?" He smiled. "No, I'd imagine not."

Stanislav downed the entire cup full in a single swig, and began pouring himself a second. "Now, there are others on the look out for them, but I can't imagine they'll have much better luck than the first. I could send out Suen, of course, but then I'd be putting him at risk to whatever foul magic the brats Scipio has found himself with may have at their disposal. Or I could wait, bide my time, wait for little birds to give me hints as to where they may be going, and then set a trap. But! What if Scipio has more friends, loyal friends, fine friends, friends who would never dare betray his trust." A grin. "Like you." He raised the goblet, as if in a toast, to his guest. "I thank you."



Scipio, Konstantin, and Eva knew when they had left Eshtan, and entered Kavaael. The difference in terrain was clear: Where Eshtan had been dead and gray, Kavaael was lush and vibrant, with soft hills rolling out as far as the eye could see. The majority of Kavaael was plains, with green foliage that smelled sweetly, a gentle perfume hanging in the air.

Scipio hated it.

"We'll hurry through to Delci, and be quick about our business there." Scipio said, barely looking at his companions. "We'll find new clothes, have a warm meal, and try to lay low. The Empire's power doesn't extend this far south, so we should be free of any... Unpleasantness."

Konstantin looked to his friend. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing."

"Yeah!" Eva piped up.

Scipio sighed. "Look, it's not important, we'll just hurry through, and be done with it."

Konstantin dropped his things, and Eva followed suit. Another sigh. "What are you doing."

The other two began rifling around in their things, and seemed to be setting up camp. "A picnic!" Eva said with a smile.

"We don't have time for a picnic, we're on the run from the Empire!"

"You just said yourself it's power doesn't extend this far south, we'll be fine. Come, sit with us, relax! It's gorgeous here."

Scipio spat on the ground. "Kavaael is a shithole. The whole place should burn."

"That's not nice!" Eva said, frowning at Scipio.

"What she said. Come on, you've been on edge ever since we got here, what's on your mind?"

Scipio sputtered for a moment, then sat down, defeated. "Fine. I'll talk." He set his things to the side, and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if holding back a headache.

"Now, I don't know how much about me you read in books.."

"Quite a bit."

"Shut it. Anyway, there's bound to be things you don't know, 'cause they were never written. Now, I was an orphan-"

Konstantin sighed. "I know."

"Shut it. So, thing is, I wasn't always." He looked around him, examining his surroundings. "I don't remember much about before I got to the Capital. From what I can piece together, my parents were travelling up from Delci on a pilgrimmage. I was originally from Capaon, near the heart of the Empire. My parents were the religious type, so I was brought with them. On the way back up, our caravan was attacked by the Horse tribes. Men were killed, women taken. I got away by being small enough to hide in a barrel, and they never found me. I wandered for what must have been ages, until I finally found myself at the Capital."

Konstantin nodded, transfixed by the grief etched into Scipio's face. "I didn't know that."

Scipio shrugged. "Not many do."

Eva scuttled up beside Scipio, and hugged him. He wrapped an arm around her, and took a piece of bread out of his pack.

For a moment, Konstantin seemed contemplative.

Scipio raised an eyebrow. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, I just realized you're probably STILL small enough to fit in a barrel."

He barely managed to duck in time to avoid the piece of bread thrown at his head, and they erupted into laughter.



"Dominic, come, Dominic!" A voice called. Dominic looked up from his drawing, to see Anna in the window. "What? What is it?"

"The legionnaires! They're here!"

Dominic put his things away as quickly as possible, and rushed outside. He and Anna ran to the town square, where a large number of armoured men had set themselves. There was a banner flying behind them, marking them as the Third legion. Dominic scanned the crowd of men, until he found a face that was familiar to him. "Look! Anna! Father!"

He smiled at his sister, and tried to draw his father's attention. The man turned his head slightly, and shot him a brief smile. Dominic beamed, then turned his eye to a man in a white tunic with a scroll.

"People of the Empire!" The man began, reading from the parchment. "A great villain has escaped from the foulest prison! If you see this man, do not attempt to approach, or aid him! He is described as being above average height, and he speaks with a Northman's accent. His hair is said to be very fair, as if blonde or white! He is travelling with the Traitor to the Empire, Scipio Marcellus!"

Dominic looked at Anna, confused. Scipio? A traitor?

The crowd that had gathered began to hum with whispers, exchanging rumours and hearsay.

The man rolled up the scroll, and left the town square. The Legionnaires let out a call, then turned and followed him. The ground shook at their passing.



Konstantin looked down at the man at his feet. He was making noise, but he wasn't sure what was being said, the ringing in his ears dominating his attention. He looked at his hand, and found he was holding his sword, and that it was covered in blood. Where was he?

He looked around him, and saw Scipio executing another man. Eva must have ran, because she was not nearby.

His attention returned to the man at his feet. It appeared that he had died.

Scipio shook his shoulder, yelling something at him. Konstantin frowned, unable to understand the words.

"-to go. We have to go, before more of them show up! Come on!"

Scipio took Konstantin's arm, and dragged him away. They found Eva, huddled near the riverbed. Konstantin rememebered.

They had been travelling through Kavaael, when the sound of hooves shook the earth. Scipio dived into the brush, bringing Eva with him. Konstantin had hesitated, and the tribesmen had fallen upon them.

The fighting had been quick and brutal, with Konstantin drawing upon his magic, drawing a rune in blood upon his blade, as he had when fighting the mercenaries. One of the tribesmen's skin sloughed off, leaving nothing but meat and bone, but had not died. Not immediately. Another had exploded in a whirlwind, which had deafened Konstantin. A third nearby was knocked down in the process, and Konstantin had stood over him.

Konstantin ran to the river and vomited.

Scipio, who was busy comforting Eva, turned his attention to Konstantin. "We need to go, get a hold of yourself!"

Konstantin didn't reply with words, as his mouth was quite busy. When a moment's respite found him, he turned his head to Scipio, wiped his lips with his arm, and nodded.

The three ran, as far and as fast as they could, sticking to the brush when possible. They heard horses, every now and then, and when they did they huddled down against the dirt until they had passed.

The grass of Kavaael smelled sweet, sweet like blood.

Konstantin hated it.



Stanislav poured another glass, but found the pitcher to be empty. He sighed, and looked to his guest. "It seems that our conversation is at an end." He stood, uneasy on his feet, and approached the man strung up on the wall. He eyed the gashes and burns on his skin, a small smile on his lips. "Not much of a talker without your tongue, are you?" Stanislav grinned, and slapped the man on the cheek. The man's head shook, and he sobbed. "I'm sorry I'm not as skilled with a knife as I'd have liked to be. I'd have rather just removed your tongue, but it seems your jaw had to come with it. Live and learn, I suppose."

Stanislav picked up a long, thin knife from the table, beside the pitcher. The blade was sharpened to a fine edge, and the end hooked in a cruel barb. He tested it on his thumb, and nodded. "Now, lets get back to business."