The centurion, watching closely, did not see what was deposited into the older officer"s hand. But he felt relatively certain it was something which would not go well for the undersized oaf named Gallus.
"Let me paint you a picture of what happened last night, soldier. Interrupt me whenever I stray from the truth," the tribune began in a pleasant, conversational tone as he stood directly in front of the now pasty white Gallus.
The young centurion strode up to stand by the balding yet dominating force of Decimus Julius Virilis and turned crimson faced in rage when his eyes fell upon the severed ring finger. Slapping the small baton all centurions gripped angrily against the side of his bare leg, he turned and gave his man a dark, murderous look.
Decimus, snarling back a dangerous smirk,
