"I have seen pigs lie with greater dignity than he does in the dirt."
"They say he slew a daemon? Well, none saw the deed. Perhaps the daemon perished at the mere sight of his insult of a face."
"I sense a deceit of sorts. I doubt he has the skills—or tact."
"I fear the barbarian woman who knocked him out would better serve Lord Praefect, than he."
"At least, she would serve in more ways than one."
"A plus, no less!"
The equites' laughter rang out in mocking, their jeers carrying across the field like slaps, each one striking across the Prefect's pride.
Alexios' expression darkened, jaw tightening as the murmur swelled.
"Silence! Do not insult your rank."
The Decurion's rebuke cut through the air like a whip and the men stiffened, their amusement dying instantly, though smirks lingered at the corners of their mouths.
Alexios inhaled slowly, steadying the storm behind his eyes before fixing the Decurion with a look.
"Leave us, Segimerus."
The Decurion hesitated, his callous gaze flicking toward Rainer sprawled in the dirt with reluctance.
But at last, he nodded and signaled to his men.
The cavalrymen pulled back, hooves crunching against the earth as they withdrew to a waiting distance, still mounted, still watching.
A tense silence settled, and Rainer carefully pushed himself upright, brushing dust from his tunic.
He glanced up at him and cleared his throat, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.
"Look, boss. I know what it looks like. The son of Mars was defeated by a woman. Yeah, it happened. But she was crazy skilled, and a good fighter too—but mostly crazy."
Alexios' face betrayed nothing. His eyes, on the other hand, were hard as iron.
"I have heard of your scuffle with Commius. A centurion I appointed under the auspices of Governor Gaius."
The words fell like a noose over his neck, one deliberately and steadily tightening.
"In so doing, you showed me no respect and insulted my authority." He glanced back at his escort waiting a few lengths behind. "The men now make jokes in my presence, and ridicule my judgment."
With each syllable, Rainer found it harder to breathe, and his smirk faded, twisting into a grimace.
He scratched his head, exhaling.
"Okayyy. Point taken, I get it. Your reputation suffered because of me. What can I do to make it up?"
Alexios straightened in his saddle, his gaze drifting back toward the camp.
"Centurio Commius has considered your skill in battle to be—admirable." A slight twitch of skepticism touched his eyes.
Rainer raised a perplexed brow, not knowing where Alexios was going with this.
"He wishes to improve his skills with you from a—real combat exercise."
Rainer squinted slightly with suspicion.
"Like...a spar? Well, ehh. I don't mind. We're using wooden weapons, right?" He smiled, feeling confident.
Alexios stared at him grimly.
"...Right?"
Rainer's smile slowly fell, turning solemn as the silence dragged on.
"...So he wants to kill me," Rainer mused as his expression turned dark. "And you would allow it?"
Alexios scoffed and waved a hand dismissively.
"That does not even warrant an answer. Your value to me goes without saying."
He licked his lips, considering something for a moment, then said.
"You simply need to exchange a few blows—bleed and make him look good, but win by a margin."
Rainer squinted again, this time, however, in doubt as a delighted gleam swirled beneath his eyes.
"What? That's it?! He's wounded! That'll be easy!"
Rainer laughed, amused at the proposal. Given his actions, he had expected harsher punishment.
Alexios' frown deepened as his eyes warned of caution.
"There are three in my cohort whom I can confidently say would be a match for the Centurion in a one‑on‑one fight. Centurio Vellocatus being one of them—and that was after he got injured."
He cleared his throat and glanced away, unwilling to be amused by Rainer's comically shocked expression.
"Before the injury, it would only be Centurio Vellocatus—the current Chief Centurion, and my late Chief Centurion... It wasn't an easy feat recruiting Commius before the other Prefects—knowing of his valiant showing in battles against Rome."
Rainer smirked, excitement bubbling up within.
"Alright. Now I'm invested. Seems like it's going to be a good match!"
Alexios shifted his weight slightly as a quiet scorn settled in his eyes.
"You have not heard the entirety of it."
Rainer paused, then shrugged apathetically.
"Hit me."
"Commius would have you fight with the weapons requisitioned for you."
Rainer's eyes widened.
"What? He wants me to fight with a drawbar and a millstone?! I mean, look at them!" He gestured at the artfully designed implements lying half‑buried in the dirt.
"They sank into the ground overnight from their sheer weight!!!"
Alexios ignored his protest, preferring to speak on more important matters.
"The exercise is not to the death... But I do not take it past the Centurion to make an attempt on your life." He confessed with an imperceptible sigh, then gazed at him kindly.
"But rest assured. If he kills you, I'll fine him three times the amount of money I spent in purchasing the body you now inhabit."
Rainer snorted, darkly amused.
"And if I kill him?"
"Then your death shall come—swiftly."
The Prefect's words were as cold as a drawn blade.
Rainer huffed and looked away.
Alexios' lips curved faintly at this.
"There is one more thing."
Annoyance surged up within Rainer's chest.
"What?!"
"...Due to your recent misdeeds, I have amended our deal."
A menacing glint flashed past Rainer's eyes as his neck grinded up to Alexios. Then he took a deliberate step forward, fists clenched.
"You can't do that." He warned in a low tone.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the thirty riders walk closer as if to indicate they were still there, still watching.
"Yes. I. Can." Came Alexios' measured reply, hand coming to rest on the hilt of his spatha.
"Truly, you have proven your title. You are indeed wayward, and I cannot have that fester amongst my ranks! From now on you will follow my every order."
"You!!"
Rainer's teeth ground together as fury radiated from him.
He was just about to escalate the situation when—
Alexios raised a hand, silencing him.
"But, worry not. I know you value your freedom. As such, I will hold you bound on a—loose leash."
The contemptuous words stung like salt to injury and Rainer's frown turned ugly.
Alexios continued, wisely shifting the topic. His tone was almost conversational.
"Commius would have preferred that the combat exercise happen tomorrow. But I postponed it partly in consideration of his injuries. It shall occur five days from now, and I am sure my men would love to learn from the exchange."
Alexios straightened, bunching the reins as his steed walked back slightly. He didn't shy away from Rainer's silent glare.
"I gifted you more days to prepare... Be grateful that I need you alive."
Rainer's mouth worked for a moment, then his gaze dropped as heat burned behind his eyes.
A moment later, he slumped, exhaling a long, bitter sigh.
"Gotcha."
Alexios appeared satisfied by this, then he tugged the reins, turning his horse aside.
"I am headed for Apulum, a military administrative fortress city. My cohort requires men to replenish its ranks. I will not delay."
Rainer sulked, refusing to meet his gaze, and Alexios smirked at his petulance.
"Perhaps I shall see if there is decent armor to be requisitioned there. If you survive Commius' blade without disabling injuries, you may have them."
Then he rode off, leaving those words behind.
Rainer rolled his eyes.
"Sure, cause I ain't encumbered enough." He snarked, running a hand through his hair.
Two long columns of armored horsemen trailed loyally behind Alexios, and soon, only a cloud of dust rising in the wake of their departure was left.
Rainer sighed, bunching his hair in his fists as he fell to a crouch.
Taking his hands off with a lethargic exhale, he glanced back to his shield and hefted it onto his back. With his rope, he tied it across his torso, then secured his spear horizontally at his waist.
Cracking his neck and flexing his limbs, his eyes held a glint of determination. Then he began jogging.
––✺––
Hours later...
Kotys emerged from the camp's gate, his new officer's armor gleaming faintly in the sunlight.
The lorica segmentata and crested helmet were worn but polished to a fine shine. The sparse stylistic gildings on them gleamed as a symbol of his promotion.
He soon drew to a stop, spotting Rainer jogging past. Sweat soaked his tunic like he had just emerged from a river, and his pants, though heavy, were steady despite the weight of his weapons borne on his back.
A guard standing by chuckled after noticing Kotys' confusion.
"He's been running around the camp all morning."
Another shook his head. "I've given up on thinking; this time, he is going to stop for a rest."
Kotys watched Rainer vanish around the corner as realization dawned.
A small approving smile soon tugged at the side of his lips.
'He's working hard… I should do my best too. This promotion is nothing compared to my ambitions.'
He drew a sharp breath and resumed his gait, cloak flapping in the breeze.
The morning wind carried the scent of smoke and steel, and both men—one running, one marching—pressed forward, each driven by the weight of expectation and the hunger for more.