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... n only by the muted grind of timber and the clatter of boots on wet planks. Salt air carried the smoke of pitch torches, flickering in the dark as the last legionaries filed onto the ships. Masts rocked in the tide, ropes creaked, and across the water the hulls of transports and warships floated side by side, their shadows quivering atop black waves. Constantine, still new in the shape of his destiny, walked the length of the quay with a methodical patience. He checked hatches and counted mounts ...

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