As discussed Straton is surprisingly popular for a sadistic rapist. So here for all those Straton fans here is an extract from the forthcoming Galba’s Men when the fellow is being once again selflessly heroic.
Mina was convinced that this was a very bad idea. Ignorant of what Straton’s mission encompassed, she knew it wasn’t good from the overseer’s grim demeanour. Insistent that she had to follow him now, quickly, she padded behind him in bare feet and her nightgown, whip clasped in her hand.
“Straton,” she hissed. “Straton.”
He gestured for her to keep moving.
“Where are we going?”
Which told her diddly-squat. He did not look right to her either. Straton always moved with surprising grace but tonight he was heavy footed, stopping to lean on walls, rubbing his forehead with desperate motions. It was hard to miss the enormous lump that had formed on the back of his head, Mina assuming the two things were connected. He was determined, though, a sack on his back containing a stack of lethal looking weapons which she hoped would compensate for his wobbliness.
Outside their destination Straton stopped and pulled out a vicious looking nail-studded cudgel. Mina’s eyes opened very wide, Straton telling her gruffly, “Could get nasty.” He handed her a lighter version.
“Whack,” he demonstrated a slap using both hands, taking a wide swing. Too wide, since he lost his footing and had to prop himself against the wall until the dizziness passed.
“Can we not do this tomorrow? You don’t look very well. You’re sort of green.”
Straton went to shake his head, but realised in time that this was not a great idea given the way the floor was rocking for him. “Needed now,” he said and then, “Help me. Please.”
He’d never used that word before, had never needed to. It fell oddly from his tongue. Mina could see he was desperate, truly desperate, and recalling the time he had rescued her from Juba, she nodded. Because that’s what friends did, wasn’t it? They helped each other out.