53 Results in the "The Lion & The Owl" category
-
Chapter
The Morning Task
The lake glistens, its placid surface casting sunlight in a narrow path to the wet porch, the shallow water over its tiles giving way to the kitchen. A comforting warmth envelops the space from sunrise to sunset, emanating from a majestic oven nestled in the back corner. Its plump stack extends through the ceiling, and on its face is a masterful carving of Vesta, her arms laden with a bountiful harvest. Below her, the oven’s mouth beckons, where the hearth’s breath forms an uneven glow, and metal…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Morning Diversion
Skipio wakes before the sun, his habit since coming home. The frigid lake arouses his blood, and he floats upon its black stillness, lamenting that the coming winter will force his swim routine indoors. He strokes to the porch, its slick balustrade heavy with moss, and hoists himself into the chilly air. Streaking quickly into his room, he stands before the wall hearth’s roiling flame and dries himself with a fresh towel, courtesy of Welletrix. The blond Gaul reappears with a steaming water bowl…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Month of Honey VII
No bigger fool exists than a man blind with love. Mother cut his last nerve with that word, leaving him with no guilt for slicing her throat. Discontent, he leans against the Roman, whose words gently tickle his back. Mud Face, Milky, Reed Eyes, and the others conspire at a shady roadside watering station. The two sides speak over a trough where their horses drink, and a civilian stands among them, his curls blacker than Aedan’s. Large blue eyes watch Servius Tribune with a sensual…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Month of Honey VI
The northern road bends east, avoiding another of Saturn’s lost stones. They enter Clastidium, an unremarkable collection of stables, eateries, and toilets catering to a daily procession of riverboats and bridge-crossers. “You’re selling water,” Planus scolds the teenage merchant, “when the Padus flows just eighty paces away,” “It flows, awight,” says the young man, unable to articulate his ‘R’s,’ “With the shit, piss, and spunk of evewy pewson living hew,” Titus hands…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Month of Honey V
Farewells are the worst things. Sometimes. His cage’s wooden walls lay in a stack, and the oars, upright in bronze brackets, rest without their rowers. Even the desk and its stool sit alone, with no sign of the well-dressed supervisor. A shadow on the ramp becomes his Roman—the red-comb helmet under his arm shimmering in a lone ray of sun. A thicker tunic peeks out from his modest breastplate, and wool leggings run from its leather skirt to his boots. “Let’s go, A-Dawn.” He tosses a xanthous…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Month of Honey IV
Malaca shows her Phoenician roots with an overabundance of stone and the absence of timber. Roman horses trot over her rocky jetty, each eager for a roomy stable with ample feed and fresher water. Scipio comes ashore with Planus and Titus to heave their ship into dry-dock. Much lighter without her cargo of men, horses, and grain, the Portuna Harena floats along a man-made canal. Her destination is a massive shed with concrete colonnades capped by a double-thatched roof. Two hundred Romans strip down and…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Month of Honey III
Twenty-two days find them at Gades, where the narrowest waterway divides the northern isle of Eritheia from its southern sister, Kothinusa. A patchwork of linen canopies spread with barely a sliver between them while trade and circumstance carry on loud enough to rouse the dead. The air carries a disgusting mix of shit and saltwater, but Aedan inhales deeply with his face in the sun. His captor tugs at the sinew cord, irritating his neck; it’s a shameful use of his mother’s blessing but a suitable…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Month of Honey II
Strong fingers tighten around his spindly arm, dragging him until his feet remember their function. Such rough handling sweetens the pot, as does every grope, grasp, and growl. A new timber jetty stretches to the Krokodilo, who wears a reptilian eye on each side of her keel. Weather-worn triangular teeth line her narrow battering ram, and two banks of oars dangle from her sides, the long overhanging the short. Aedan counts twenty-five, meaning a total rowing complement of fifty. All make way for the…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Month of Honey – I
The Bucarati kips upon glossy mudflats. The vessel resembles a timber beetle with its tightly bound sales and dangling oars. It slumbers as men till the wet sands beneath its rudder, digging that will ensure the incoming tide washes her away. Alps-born Romans crowd her surface planks. They wear fur over their shoulders and wool on their extremities. None are clean-shaven, not even their newly minted leader, Lucius Scipio Servius, whose beard shines golden like the short coils on his head. His noble…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
-
Chapter
The Meat’s Bath
Under the half-moon’s gentle glow, Niko had tossed a lean muscle cut from the hog’s backbone onto one of his leather mats, this one layered with a heavy dusting of sea salt, crushed peppercorns, and bits of ground cumin. He turned the meat over this spice blanket as if it were one of his marble rolling pins, then swaddled it tight like a gifted wine. At midmorning, the spice-crusted tenderloin lay on the preparation table. The chubby cook sliced three strips up its girth, leaving a healthy thumb-length…-
120.4 K • Ongoing
-
- Previous 1 2 3 … 5 Next
