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.‘Haircut is it, sir? Or perhaps you’d like to find out just how good you’d look after a shave from one of our expert tonsors? Walk this way, and prepare to be astounded!’He led the bemused customer into the shop, pointing to the soldier he judged least likely to cut their first customer’s throat by accident.‘You, here’s a customer.Give him the closest, smoothest shave you can, and as our very first customer we’ll make it gratis as long as he promises to tell his friends just how good our bargain prices are!’The customer in question beamed happily, quickly taking his place in the chair indicated.Nodding seriously, the ‘tonsor’ in question whipped out a military dagger and set to stropping its edge against a leather strap.Taken aback by the weapon’s unexpected appearance, the man in the chair took on an uneasy look and started to rise from his seated position only to find a powerful hand pushing him back while the soldier addressed him in a gruff voice.‘Keep still mate.I won’t cut you unless you move, but if I do cut you then it’ll be right nasty …’He smeared a handful of olive oil around the customer’s chin, quickly coating the now terrified man’s beard with the slippery fluid before setting to with his blade.After a few deft strokes his potential victim began to realise that he’d not actually been cut yet, and that each pass of the knife was painlessly removing a section of what had hitherto been a stubborn growth of stubble.The soldier grinned down at him, seeing the relaxation slowly soften his tensed features.‘Yeah, good isn’t it? This knife’s a fucking beauty, the best I’ve ever had, holds an edge easy and it’s good for the toughest work.I even did a barbarian with it in Dacia last year, when I lost my sword in a goat-fuck of a fight …’ He paused, shaking his head in irritation as a trickle of blood ran down the now thoroughly terrified customer’s cheek.‘Now look what you’ve made me do! I told you not to move!’Cotta walked into the barbers’ shop shortly before dusk, nodding a greeting to Morban.His men, having shaved and tonsored the day’s last customers and swept away their clipped hair, were waiting for the command to be on their way with the eagerness of men who were planning a full night’s entertainment.‘On your way boys, and remember, you’re all back on duty here at dawn.And no getting so pissed up that your razor hands are still shaking when you get here, eh?’The soldiers made their exit without having to be asked twice, heading out into the city with respectful nods and half-salutes to the veteran.Morban waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk.‘Have a seat, Centurion, take the weight off while I finish cashing up.’Cotta sat, fixing his eyes on the standard bearer and watching with interest as his hands moved deftly over the piles of coins arrayed in neat piles on the desk.‘My old man always used to say, when he wasn’t face down on his bed from too much wine or chasing recruits and thrashing them with his vine stick, that the way a man looks at things will tell you a lot about him.’Morban looked up momentarily, feigning a curiosity that Cotta could see through with ease.‘Really?’‘Yes, he did.And the older I get, the more I respect the old bastard’s opinion …’He deliberately went quiet, until the silence got to the other man in exactly the intended manner.Morban looked up, a sudden hint of disquiet in his swift glance, then looked back down at the money.‘There it is.Just like he said, it’s in the eyes.So, Morban, you came recommended to me as a man with a magical touch with money.’The standard bearer smiled in an attempt at self-deprecation.‘Really? That was kind of—’‘Yes.’ The centurion’s voice hardened.‘I was told that any money that was put in front of you would, if you were left alone with it, magically start to vanish.’The other man reared back with an indignant expression.‘Just a minute! I—’‘Resemble that comment?’Morban’s eyes narrowed at the time-honoured put-down.‘I’ve counted all this money three times now: thirty-three shaves and seventy-five haircuts, which comes to …’‘So that’s fifty-eight customers, is it?’The veteran soldier’s eyes narrowed as the deceptive lightness of Cotta’s tone sank in.‘Ahhh … no.In fact it was seventy-two.’He met the centurion’s stare with his most impassive mask and waited for a response.Cotta shook his head slowly, and something in his impassive stare sounded a warning in the standard bearer’s mind.‘Once an officer always an officer, eh? Alright it was seventy-eight …’ The veteran centurion held his gaze steady.I’m telling you, seventy-eight customers.And that’s it.’Cotta nodded.‘Very good.I do so like it when I come to an accommodation with an experienced senior man like you.’He held out a hand, and Morban opened the desk drawer, pulling out a purse and sweeping the money arrayed across the flat wooden surface into it before dropping the purse into the outstretched palm.‘About the lads’ bonus?’‘And yours for that matter?’The standard bearer grinned shamelessly.‘Well, now that you mention it …’Cotta shook his head in feigned disbelief.‘Every time I think I’ve met the most barefaced crook that could ever exist in the army, someone goes and proves me wrong.You can take the bonus out of the money you’re still holding back from the other fifteen heads that your lads cropped today.’Morban gaped as the secure ground he thought he’d managed to put beneath his feet abruptly dropped away.‘How …?’Cotta stood.‘How did I know how many haircuts your boys have got through today? That’s for me to know and for you to wonder, I’d say.You’ll work it out in your own time.When I see your lads I’ll tell them that you’ve got their share for the day, shall I?’‘But that won’t cover it!’Cotta grinned, bending to pinch the older man’s cheek.‘No, it won’t, will it? Perhaps this old dog might just have learned a new trick tonight – not to lie to a man that’s forgotten more ways to make money vanish than you’ll ever know.Goodnight Morban!’Excingus dropped wearily into the chair facing Gaius, waving a hand at the landlord who promptly sent one of his daughters over with a flask of wine.Having deposited flask and cups onto the table, she fixed the informer with a sultry pout, squeezing her breasts together to make them protrude alluringly.Excingus waved the hand again to dismiss her, shaking his head firmly as her pout went from allure to disgust.‘On your way child.You’re too young for me, I’m too tired to do you justice, and my young friend here doesn’t have a fully functioning phallus yet.Come back in two or three years’ time.’The child frowned at him.‘How do you know my dick doesn’t work!? For all you know, I could be—’‘Looking at your hairless sausage in puzzlement, I’d imagine.What did you find out for me?’Gaius shrugged.‘About the barber’s new cellar? Nothing.’Excingus poured himself a cup of wine with an expression of profound disappointment at the child’s answer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]