A Court Of Night and Fire

Chapter Two

Articus felt numb as he walked back to the 1st's barracks.

I'm leaving, he thought still in denial.

He had known nothing else but the soldier's life since he'd been sold into slavery at the age of twelve before slavery was outlawed in the empire. Leaving it hadn't crossed his mind once during the sixteen years he had been with the Legion.

No, he told himself stubbornly. I will be back.

Are you sure? a small voice mocked him from the depths of his mind.

He squashed the thought quickly. Of course, I'll be back. I'm no reaper and they will send me back when they quickly realize that.

Crossing over the invisible line that divided the barracks from the rest of the grounds, he found a familiar face leading Ronin toward one of the many stables. The man's name evaded Articus--he had always been bad with names--but the man obviously knew him.

At the sight of Articus, the soldier stiffened into a salute. Articus returned the salute, only half paying attention. He didn't weigh too much into formality and at times he wished they'd do away with the whole saluting thing all together. But some things couldn't be changed.

"Call the File Leaders and the Under-Centurion to the Red Room. And be quick about it."

Before Articus even finished the order, the man had turned and was sprinting back the way he'd come.

Cursing to himself for getting what he wanted, Articus yelled after him, "And don't breathe a word of this to anyone!"

Grabbing the reins of Ronin, he led the great black warhorse toward the Red Room at a slow walk.

The 'barracks' were divided up into four sections, one for every Legion. Every section had its own low squared buildings for the soldier's dorms, one for every Cohort. Off to the side of the low buildings was a slightly smaller building for the Legates and Under-Legates and one even smaller building for the Centurions and Under-Centurions.

He found the 1st Legion's Centurions' Quarters sooner than he hoped and, unexpectedly, he couldn't find the courage to enter. He felt like if he did take the few steps to enter the building that he'd be abandoning all that he had come to know and love.

Ronin snorted into his ear and, when Articus looked at the horse, the stallion rolled his eyes. At least, he thought he saw the horse roll its eyes. Some men claimed their animals were stupid but Articus was starting to think that that was what the horses wanted you to think.

"I know. I know," he muttered.

Ronin gave another snort and Articus threw up his hands. "I'm going!"

Not bothering to tie up Ronin, he let the reins fall to the ground. The animal was too stubborn to leave him and no man was stupid enough to steal him. Bonte, the famous Horse Master of the 1st Legion, had personally trained the animal. Not only had the he trained him but had also claimed Ronin had been his greatest accomplishment yet--which was no light boast.

Looking at the small door with dread, Articus ascended the steps that lead up to the small porch.

The building had only one level and seven rooms. Six of the rooms were the living quarters for the Centurions and Under-Centurions of the 1st Legion. The seventh room, called the Red Room by everyone, was their map room. After all his time with the 1st Legion, he still didn't know why they called it the Red Room. It wasn't red, like one would believe.

He knew the other two Centurions were out on patrols far to the north and that they wouldn't be back for another week. But instead of finding the room empty, as he had hoped, he found Theron pacing the room impatiently.