7 AD
Before the walls of Rome
Late afternoon
Gnaeus slid off his horse gently, pain clearly written on his lined, deeply tanned face, and clutched his ribs with one hand. The scuffle with the assassin in the inn’s dark room had been less than stellar for the middle-aged legionnaire. The moment the hooded figure appeared in the open window and hurled two knives straight into the bed where normally, the tribune would have been sleeping, he had launched himself toward the assassin. His intentions were to grapple the dark figure and hold him captive until help arrived. But the hooded figure was both incredibly strong and incredibly fast.
Steel met steel in the clash. But a sandaled foot caught the smaller Gnaeus full in the ribs, sending the small man flying across the room and smashing in
