Centurion Page #5

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is no better than a beast.

I made a promise to a general

to get his soldiers home.

That is my task.

That is my duty.

Not bad for a Greek. Come on.

Drink while it's hot.

- What is that?

- The stomach.

The moss inside is half digested.

Try it, it's good.

Quintus. They'll have heard him

from miles away.

What's wrong?

Move! Move! Move!

Move! Move!

This way!

Move. Come on, let's go.

Come on, get up!

Come on!

They're coming!

- They're closing.

- Come on! Get your arses up here.

Come on. Give me your hand!

No!

Sh*t!

- We have to jump.

- Are you out of your mind?

- Do it!

- F*** it.

- I can't!

- Yes, you can!

You can do it!

No! Tarak!

Are you OK? Come on up.

- Grab him.

- I've got him.

Where's Tarak?

I lost him.

Thax, Macros?

Let's get out.

Come on.

Take off the tunics,

they'll weigh us down.

Oh, sh*t.

- Can you walk?

- Yes.

Then you can run.

They've followed us downstream.

That's it. Keep going.

Sh*t!

- She's onto us.

- Damn witch. How can she do that?

It's not magic, she's a tracker.

And she's downwind of us.

- What's happening?

- They're making camp across the valley.

They don't care

if we know where they are.

But she won't expect it... us.

Bothos, watch over Leo.

- What are you going to do?

- Going to even the odds.

Come on.

Aargh!

Quintus!

Kill him and be done with it.

No!

They took his f***ing head.

- Bothos!

- They had the same idea as you.

They're not defending their lives

or their country any more.

They've sworn a blood vengeance

against us.

And they won't rest...

...until we beg them... for death.

Are you ready to get on your knees

and beg?

- I'm finished. It's hopeless.

- Hopeless?

Hopeless is what they sing songs about,

write poems about.

Hopeless is the stuff of legend, Bothos.

And being a legend will get you laid.

What do I have to do?

Keep moving, while we still have

darkness on our side.

The gods have forsaken us.

We make our own chances now.

Aargh!

Macros. Macros.

I... I can't keep up.

I can't keep up.

Macros, at least this way,

one of us will make it.

- Bastard!

- Don't cry out, Macros.

They'll end it quicker

if you don't cry out.

Don't leave me! Thax!

Thax!

Come on!

We should give this place a wide berth.

We need food and a place to rest.

Where the hell are we now?

- I'll get some water. Stay alert.

- Yeah.

- Oh!

- Whoa, whoa!

Brick, go back inside.

Go back inside now.

I'll leave you to it, then.

You speak my language.

Are you from the garrison?

I thought you'd stopped

coming up this far north.

Garrison? What garrison?

- Two days south of here.

- They come here?

How do you think I know your language?

I do what I can to discourage them.

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