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Chapter
VII
Vibrant tunics blanket the knoll, their owners busy chopping the forest. The harsh sun bakes the skin, leaving the Romans and their Gallic recruits slick with sweat. Muscles aching, the younger men imitate their elders and wrap their foreheads in rags before dusting their hands with more chalk. Each axe swing brings a grunt and the thump of metal on wood, and by midday, their labor silences the rolling ticks of lonely cicadas. Nearby, camp immunes, who are laborers forbidden to fight, keep things…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XII – The Gathering
Bloody waters run deep where the Stour meets the Lug. Two hefty rafts cut a path within pink foaming shallows, where intestines wobble as hungry fish peck at their undersides. The well-adorned passengers bring tightly woven rags to their noses, anything to quell the stench. Slimy crimson sand sucks at Aedan’s feet, but what awaits him beyond the trees makes the discomfort worth it. Flies gather like black rain over a dining table made of human bones. Half-skulls sit upon its gruesome ribcage,…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
VI
Druid society includes seers, mediators, teachers, warriors, and healers, each earning a place in life’s tree through their achievements. Older druids accomplish more, which is why Ostin the Ageless stands above all others, and why Aedan the Ancalite remains on his knees. Father’s owl mask watches from the muddy shore, its upper trim blackened by fire. Fintan, the former Owl King, served as a healer, but he also guided the chieftain with battlefield wisdom. Aedan’s education in all things real and…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
V
Night marches are treacherous without torch or stars. It is solitary work, and anxiety devours the hours. The hiss of wind-swept trees overpowers the cadence of infantry boots. No one utters a word, not even to their horses. Skipio leads his scouts ahead of the legions. Over a mile ahead, they meet a barricade of towering reeds and foxtails. Insects and amphibians cavort so wildly that their clamor drowns out his pounding heart. Amid the bobtails lurks water, and entering unfamiliar wetland courts…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XX – 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…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XIV – 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…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Lucius Vitus Servius once said that rivalry within ranks festers like flesh rot, and if a general ignores it, he’ll lose a man as quickly as a leg. Gaius recalls his old friend’s observation as he watches the murdered man’s son glower at Kombius, a prince of the continental Atrebates. The more concerning bit of flesh rot, however, is Titus Labienus, who listens with jowls tight in resentment as the noble speaks of his time as an Ancalite prisoner. Before their first campaign on the island,…
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120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XIX – 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…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XVI – 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…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XVII – 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…-
120.7 K • Ongoing
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