3 Chance to talk
A tense stand-off. One unarmed man against a gang of armed fighters. No one moved. This newcomer meant business. Out-numbered, unarmed. Hands tied. But fucking fearless! He’d just taken one of their down. Worrying. Not expected from some peasant. Parthian troops didn’t take this kind of shit. Not from goat-shaggers. Peasants didn’t fight …..
The sergeant was torn. He’d invited this arsehole in .. planning on taking the prick as a slave. Back home, he’d get rid of the muscled fucker. Make a good price on selling off that hide.
But something worried him. Stinking peasants didn’t behave like this. Standing up to armed soldiers from the Empire? If this really was the enemy prince who’d walked bare-faced into their camp ….? And he had fucked up …..? The general would be making the sergeant chew on his own balls …..
Best get this fucker to the general. He’d covered his arse. He’d had a word with the general’s staff. It wasn’t true .. of course ….. Menander surrendering? That wouldn’t make sense …. Would it ….?
Quickly the sergeant broke the tension
“Move your arse, motherfucker.”
His orders broke off the stand-off. Maciste complied. When he met Tiradates, he was going to sort things out.
The sergeant remained confused. He’d planned on keeping this muscle-head for himself. In his head he’d already spent the price he’d get for a shredded work-ox like this .. twice over. He’d never believed the story. Told the general’s staff so. The enemy prince .. handing himself in? What the fuck ….?! But the way this arsehole had just taken down one of his men ……? And was standing up to the rest ….?