A conversation with a servant

Titus strode into the inner chambers of his large tent, where Magnus, his most trusted body servant waited. Without a word he helped Titus strip off his armour, his dark features expressionless.

"They are preparing your bath my lord Legate," he said. "The women are being prepared as well. The rebel queen is being tied to a pole as we speak."

"Excellent," Titus answered. "I'm very sore from days in the saddle. I am in need of restoration."

"My lord Legate has won a mighty victory."

"Indeed I have. But it is not yet complete Magnus. I wish these people shattered, destroyed. A lesson for all who think of rebellion."

"Of course my lord Legate."

"You disapprove Magnus. I can hear it in your voice."

"Disapproval is not my privilege my lord Legate. I am merely your body servant."

"And someone I trust more than my closest so called friends. Say what you mean."

"This woman, this queen. She will not break short of killing her. She will take any opportunity to slay you my lord. Keep her in bonds until you take her to Rome, or spill her blood tonight. Use the others as you wish, but end her or keep her in a cage."

Titus nodded, listening with a smile, then reached out to clasp Magnus' shoulder.

"You are wise, but I am cunning. I play a deep and long game my old friend. I will have this woman broken and in tatters long before we reach Rome."

Magnus nodded and bowed, doubt clear in his eyes. "As you say my lord Legate. No doubt your judgement is greater than mine."