PANTERA - Sara Reinke

SARA REINKEstern gravity or gentle empathy with only minor inflection; hisbrows lifted and it softened his entire countenance.“My name is Marcus Vergilius Seneca,” the man toldhim. “I am the Praefectus Vigilum of Sepphoris. It is alright,Abdes.”“Can you talk to me?” Seneca asked, helping Abdes sitonce more against the bed. “Can you tell me what youremember? What happened to you?”“Yes, sir,” Abdes said.Seneca glanced over his shoulder as a young soldierstepped forward, carrying a satchel slung across his waist, awax tablet and stylus in his hands. “He is an actarius,” Senecatold Abdes. “He will record your statement as officialdeposition. Do you understand, lad? Do you feel up to it?”Abdes didn’t exactly understand, but he noddedanyway. “Yes, sir.”When he was finished recounting, Abdes could tell bythe vaguely disappointed look on Seneca’s face that whateverthe Praefectus had been hoping for, Abdes had failed toprovide.“You remember nothing of their appearance? Theirfaces?” a tall, blue-eyed officer asked. Like Seneca, he hadstood close at hand, listening intently and with a graveexpression as Abdes had spoken. “You grappled with them.Surely you saw something of their faces?”“I do not remember, sir,” Abdes said. “It happenedvery fast, sir, and I only remember their clothes. Theiruniforms.”The soldier opened his mouth to speak, his browsdrawn, his mouth turned in a disapproving frown. “It is alright,Mallus,” Seneca said, glancing over his shoulder and holdingup his hand. “Give him time. This is all still new to him. Morewill come as his strength restores.”Abdes understood that some considerable time hadpassed since his attack. Though the places where he had been20