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- A young man stepped forward. Not a Germanus bodyguard, but definitely a fighter. His hand rested easily on the pommel of a sword. His face was a patchwork of scars. His clothes were casual—just jeans, a red-and-white T-shirt that read CORNHUSKERS, and a red bandana tied across his curly dark hair—but he held himself with the easy confidence of a practiced killer.
- “I am next, sire.”
- Commodus inclined his head. “Do it, then.”
- Cleander shrieked, “No!”
- The Cornhusker moved with blinding speed. His sword flashed. In three fluid slices, three people fell dead, their heads severed from their bodies. On the bright side, Cleander no longer had to worry about congestive heart failure. Neither did Marcus nor Vortigern.
- The emperor clapped with delight. “Oh, nice! That was very entertaining, Lityerses!”
- ***
- The Dark Prophecy, Chapter 11
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