“A fine night indeed, sir,” the dealer replied. “I do enjoy these early morning dealings as well. I just hope you brought enough money to carry on as long as needed.”
Santino placed his hands on his stomach and chuckled brassily. “We’ll just see if your little item is worthy of a place amongst my ware.”
“That will not be a problem, sir,” the man said, and I knew he had to be smiling. “I feel you will be most impressed.”
Santino harrumphed in dismissal, and looked around the stadium’s entrance, waiting for his fellow barterer to show up.
The guy was late. If Gaius wasn’t bullshiting us, then the other buyer would be one of his Praetorian buddies. There was no doubt he wouldn’t show up alone, so I glassed the rooftops looking for anybody dressed in black.
It seemed clear.
I clicked my PTT button. “3–2, 3–1. Do you have a visual on possible tangos?”
“Negative, 3–1,” Helena replied. “All clear so far.”
“Copy,” I transmitted.
I shook my head. Something felt off about this. Professionals like Gaius and Marcus’ Praetorians wouldn’t be late unless they had good reason, or were perhaps scouting the place as well. I felt safe almost seven hundred yards away, but even so, I manipulated the touch screen on my forearm to flip through the image from the fisheye cams on my eye piece. I knew it would have contacted me if they’d sensed any movement already, but it couldn’t hurt to check.
I wasn’t surprised when I found nothing. We were very far away and well hidden. My scope even had a honeycomb patterned cover over the front lens to reduce the chance of lens flares from incoming light.
Still, something didn’t feel right.
I tilted my rifle to look down the road Santino had just been traveling on. I saw two men dressed in dark clothing make their way towards the plaza. As soon as they turned the corner, they became instant targets. They walked up to the dealer and waited, offering no form of greeting.
The dealer seemed nonplussed by the fact the other buyer hadn’t come alone, but ignored it and began his transaction.
“Greetings to you all,” he began. “Thank you for displaying interest in the item I have brought here tonight. I believe you will find it most fascinating. If you have any questions, now would be the time to ask them. If you will begin, sir.…” he trailed off, indicating one of the Praetorians.
Both men remained silent, failing to offer their names.
“Fine,” the dealer replied. “And you, sir?”
“Xanthias,” Santino said. Xanthias the slave had been one of the characters in my Greek text books back in college. Like Santino, he had been a lazy bastard who never listened to his owner, Dicaeopolis. “I have but one question. Where did you acquire this item?”
That was the only question any of us wanted to know. We knew the rest.
“It was an inheritance,” he replied. “My uncle obtained it four years ago. He was a legionnaire with the XV Primigenia, but died last year while on campaign in Britain. His personal items were returned to our family in Greece, and I found the item you will be bidding on tonight. Trust me, sir, it was completely legal. A spoil of war.”
Spoil of war, my ass. This asshole’s uncle must have stolen it from Varus sometime after the Battle for Rome. There had been six thousand men in that legion, along with an equal number of auxilia, and while they all knew me, I’d only interacted with an extremely small number of them. Most of them were good men, but there were always a few brigands in a group. I wondered if the man even knew what he was taking.
The dealer continued to chat when Helena’s voice cackled in my ear.
“Contact. Eleven o’clock, your position.”
My body automatically tracked my rifle towards the area Helena indicated, and I saw exactly what we were looking for. The two men wore tight fitting clothing, probably black, but I couldn’t tell due to the green tint of my scope. Each man had a gladius, or Roman short sword, encased in a sheath strapped to their backs. Along their belts was an assortment of pouches, as well as a half dozen throwing knives held in place by what resembled shotgun shell pockets. One man had a compact bow across his back as well, along with a quiver of arrows at his thigh. The other man had no bow or quiver, but had an additional blade at his waist.
I looked around for other contacts and found them easily. I spotted nine other pairs, each similarly armed, and encircling Santino’s position unnoticed.
“Eighteen count,” I told Helena.
“Twenty two,” she corrected. “Four more atop the hippodrome.”
I glassed the entrance and high walls of the stadium and saw the four she was referring to.
“Confirmed, twenty two tangos.”
“Wait one,” she said. A minute later, I heard her voice again. “Confirmed, twenty two tangos.”
I hadn’t spotted anymore either. “Confirm positive ID on Georgia or Missouri?”
“Negative.”
That wasn’t good news. Either Gaius and Marcus weren’t here, which unless my math was really that bad couldn’t be the case, or they hadn’t activated the infrared beacons I had given them. Either way, it could prove detrimental to the mission.
“Solid copy, prepare to engage on my mark.”
She double clicked her radio.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My forehead glistened slightly with nervous perspiration, but I forced myself to focus, grasping for all that training thrown at me over the course of my career. It wasn’t my ass on the line. It was Santino’s. It was my job to keep my cool when there were others relying on me. I continued to observe the interlopers, waiting for them to do something that would force me to end them.
“So,” I heard the dealer say in my ear, “let us begin the bidding.”
“Wait,” Santino said. “Can we not see the object, first?”
“Of course. How silly of me.”
The man maneuvered a simple satchel from his back and pulled out a spherical item wrapped in a dark cloth. He carefully unwrapped the package, revealing one of the blue time traveling orbs. As I looked at it through my scope, I half expected to feel some kind of connection with it like I had the last time I was near it, but I was happy to note that I felt nothing. It appeared inert, its color and texture appearing more like a blue bowling ball than the glowing magical device that got us here.
“It’s a blue… ball,” Santino said, unimpressed.
“Yes, but observe,” the dealer replied.
Still holding the orb with the cloth in his left hand, he reached out with his right and poked it with a finger on his right. Immediately, the orb began to shine brightly.
Well, shit.
Did this guy possess the same blood line Varus and I did?
He had to. It was the only explanation for his ability to activate it.
Right?
How many more people were there that could control this thing?
I winced, expecting the jolt of intense pain that accompanied the time travel process, but felt nothing. When I opened my eyes I saw that we were still in Byzantium. I looked through my scope again, zooming it in as far as I could, and looked at the orb. Once again, I saw clouds swirling within it, like observing a hurricane from outer space, but nothing else. No shapes, objects, or human forms were evident within, and the only thing I could theorize was that there was no one on the other end of the orb, whether they were calling or answering.
I wondered why not.
I pulled back the power on my scope, resetting it for an accurate shot. Both Santino and his haggling opponent appeared shocked at what they saw. All three men stumbled back a step before regaining their composure.
“Most impressive,” Santino said. “Quite the spoil of war, indeed.”
“Yes, it is very beautiful. The glow will dim over time until it becomes opaque once again. Now, Mr. Xanthias, if you will, the starting bid is three hundred…”