Two Roman soldiers dumped Gallus onto the floor before the centurion's desk.

"Sine licentia absens," said the taller of the two.

"Twenty lashes then the pit," Quintus said, voice as flat as his beer, and turned back to his stack of wax tablets and the never-ending paperwork.

Never-ending waxwork, strictly speaking.

"I wasn't absent without leave!" Gallus protested. "I was lost!"

Quintus raised one bristling brow and impaled the young man with a glance. "How convenient," he drawled. "The legion marches to confront the savage, howling Carpi just east of the mountains, and you manage to lose yourself."

One soldier yanked Gallus to his feet and a step away.

Quintus waved a hand. "Let him speak. I could use a short diversion. Two sentences, worm. If you make it good I might find the tenderness of heart to cut the sentence to ten lashes."

Gallus gulped. The centurion was not known for a tender heart. "A fortnight ago my sergeant sent a hunting party into the HercynianForest, and I got separated while taking a piss. Wandered through the trackless heights, fleeing from monstrous elk and bull and aurochs and, and--" He gulped again. "--and bos cervi figura."

The centurion's lip curled. "Ox in the shape of a stag? Thirty lashes, if you think me such a fool."

"Not a fable at all, sir! Unicornuus!" Gallus cried as the two soldiers hauled him toward the door. "If you don't believe me, look in my bedroll. I brought a horn as proof!" He shrugged the roll from his back, a difficult feat when both elbows are gripped by armed men.

One of the guards kicked the blankets apart, and out fell a reindeer antler.

Quintus narrowed his eyes, then crooked a finger.

The other guard snatched up the antler and brought it to his superior.

Quintus turned the bony thing end over end.

"High in the Carpathians," Gallus said. "Troops of the creatures, galloping along in file as if racing to battle. Even the cows among them bore horns! Branched like tree limbs, as you can see."

"Unicorn?" the centurion asked, voice ripe with scorn.

"The first I saw had only one horn. That put the fear in me, I tell you. Perhaps others had two. I didn't want a closer look!" He shuddered.

Quintus scowled at the disheveled young man. "You're not familiar with woods or wild, are you, worm?"

Gallus shook his head in jerks. "Just a farm boy, sir."

"Easily spooked."

"Well yes, at night, under the towering trees as dense as any labyrinth and the wind screaming like tortured souls. I'm so glad to be back to civilization, sir, whatever punishment that entails!"

Quintus caught a guard's eye. "Five lashes and three days mucking stables."

Five. Only five. Gallus blew out a breath of relief -- a brief respite before renewed terror.

Quintus glared again. "Then, worm, you will lead me back to the HercynianForest where we will pursue the fabulous unicorn. Begone."