Quintus took the skin and drank hearthily from it, having not yet quenched the thirst of battle. He returned the skin to the other one and continued to listen to the egotistical buffoon who sat upon the throne. The prospect of working as quartermaster was none to appealing, did the man who would be a god want to cage the wolf? Perhaps, but Quintus dared not oppose the madman now, he simply nodded at his appointed task.<br/><br/>His eyes flashed to the captives when they were pointed out... Both pretty, and obviously capable warriors in their own right. Turning them into whores would not be easy. Then there was this Masina woman, another amazon... Where was she during the battles this day, while he was cleaving into native skulls, he could not recall seeing her dirty her hands... He watched her as she walked away with a grin.<br/><br/>As his eyes returned to the man on the eagle throne something caught his eye. It was on a bust on a pedestal that had been spared from Azuriel's bow. It was the bust of a proud man and upon his head was a helm of steel that shone like silver. From both sides around the ears the helm was framed by long rows of eagle feathers, light brown with white tips. His large sandaled feet took him there and he drew it from the bust and set it on his head. It was a perfect fit.<br/><br/>He stepped once again to stand next to Anastasius, his hand on the hilt of his bloodied sword. He knew Azuriel was meticulous. No doubt the ship was already loaded and ready to go. Unlike the departing wench, Quintus would wait until dismissed by the superior officer. Plus, he would talk to Anastasius in private...<br/>