Valerius felt his voice drop to a low tenor as he spoke. "Assassination? You jest, my friend. At the last, you shall rue the day you laid a hand on the Consul-- we all will!"
Flavius smiled wryly, as he fingered the silver dagger in his hand. "If we all live so long." - The Crown of Life
"Centurion Brutus Arius?" Valerius allowed his voice to boom louder then he ever had before. Every person in the tavern turned momentarily to search for the owner of the voice, but when they saw his military attire, and the sheathed sword guarding his side, shrugged and turned away. Let Rome settle its own affairs... its own wars. They were good at it. That was what they were made for. - The Crown of Life