Throne Of The Caesars 01 - Iron And Rust - Plot & Excerpts
His eyes bulged, his hands beckoned. Timesitheus went to move back. The mud sucked at his boots. He put up his hands to push back the dead Senator.Another bad dream. Timesitheus opened his eyes. By the light of the single lamp, he saw the low ridge pole, his travelling chest and his armour on a stand, a folding stool. Outside the tent he heard a horse whicker, men talking and moving: the sounds of the camp stirring.Just a bad dream. No daemon: they did not exist. Not a message from the gods: they did not exist either. And not guilt, definitely not guilt. He had tested Magnus and the others. If they had been loyal, they would not have been so ready to conspire, would not have had the forger make coin-dies with a portrait of Magnus as Emperor. If they had been loyal, they would have denounced him, and they would have been rewarded. Tranquillina was right. If he had not exposed their latent treachery, another would have done. They had possessed ambition without intelligence. They deserved their fate.Timesitheus yawned.
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