Tessera - Sepia
Bene and his followers hunkered in a small clearing hidden in the woods. His tunic was bleached white on the shoulders from the sun, but smeared with dirt and stains from his life in the woods. The surrounding men all had the same look—bronzed by the sun, smudged and streaked from living in the woods.
“I know the man, Argolicus. I met him once before. He is fair. We must wait.”
A rumpled man of indeterminate years said, “We don’t know him. How can he promise something he doesn’t know how he’ll resolve? I think he said those things just to get the crowd away from his family estate.”
The group murmured assent. “Yes, we don’t know.”
“Who can trust a promise from a patrician?”
Bene said, “When I met him, he was taking care of a slave, a field worker. He treats all equally
