It was just a moment, but from Peter's knees to chest, he was trembling—not a tremble of the mind, but a physical shaking.
He bowed his head deeply, not daring to raise his eyes to look at everyone.
"Wait... wait for the Centurion." Peter stared at the tips of his shoes, fiddling with the corner of his clothing, a certain invisible force almost crushing him: "Wait for the Centurion to return..."
"What did you say? Can you speak up?" someone asked tentatively. Sergeant Bunir's voice was too low; no one could clearly hear what he was saying.
Accustomed to obedience, and "Can you speak up?" sounded like a command, Peter instinctively raised his voice and repeated, "Wait for the Centurion to return!"
"Yes," the Centurion and soldiers of the company answered in unison.
Peter was startled.
For everyone, waiting for Centurion Tamas to return was the safest approach.