Rufius passed a cup each to Julius and Dubnus, beckoning Marcus to join them.
‘Get a grip of one of these cups.’
Marcus fiddled for a moment with the pin holding his cloak together, and Rufius gave the heavy piece of jewellery a knowing look.
‘Still wearing that pin, eh? Don’t say I didn’t warn you if the bloody thing goes missing. Julius, let him through to the counter.’
Julius turned to look at the young centurion as he twisted the ornate badge to open its pin. He looked hard for a moment at the ornate replica of a round cavalry shield, decorated with an intricate engraving of Mars in full armour, sword raised to strike.
‘So that’s what the pair of you rode all that way to find. Very pretty…’
Rufius took the younger man’s cloak and tossed it on to the piled table.
‘It’s just about all he’s got to remind him of his father. There’s a personal inscription on the shield’s rear too, which makes it even more precious to him. That was all we could recover from the bundle we buried that morning Dubnus and I pulled his nuts out of the fire outside Yew Grove.’
The hulking young officer standing behind them laughed softly, his discomfort with the novelty of his status suddenly forgotten.
‘Dubnus and I? I seem to recall that all you did was wave your sword about while I had to throw myself around like a fortress whore on payday.’
Rufius grinned, poking his friend in the belly.
‘One well-favoured axe-throw from no more than spitting distance and the butchery of a defenceless horse and suddenly he’s One-Eyed Horatius. Anyway, the point is that when we dug up the bundle we buried back then that was all there was worth keeping… that and the lad’s last message from his father.’