spat Iasus. “Never did trust northerners.” Sabian squared his shoulders and put his sword away. “Ok minister. I’ll assume you’ve told us everything. We’ve got to go prepare for Ursus’ funeral. Darius will deliver you back to Sarios and he will decide how to proceed with you.” As Darius herded the...
barked Scortius. “This stuff’s here to keep you alive. You need to keep on top of it!” “Erm…” Varro looked blankly at the bag. Scortius reached down and swiped it out of his hand. “Every morning as you start your day’s activity. It’s very strong. If you take it and then lie around for a long time...
Though in truth all they could smell on board the ‘Spirit of Redemption’ was the fresh, if salty, air of the sea, the mind filtered in the mixed aroma of spice and dung that they remembered from their youth. Samir sighed. They had been at sea for more than two weeks, including the occasional stop...
Turney This collection is also available on the author’s website: www.sjaturney.co.uk Published in this format 2011 Copyright - S.J.A.Turney Smashwords Edition The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this wor...
Roman territory. Lucterius glanced back over his shoulder. His small band of a dozen warriors were barely discernible, scrambling through the brush and trying not to make noise despite the frosty brittleness of the world, which waited impatiently for spring to return, bringing life and warmth. Th...
By morning nothing would remain of this place but a few sad mouldering beams and some charred stones. It was a little more high profile than their previous strikes, but he had reasoned that by now word of the executions of Roman officers would have filtered back to the authorities and there was n...
Taking a deep breath, he struggled into the freshly-pressed white tunic of the Praetorians and carefully pulled it down so that there were no rucks or creases that would irritate beneath armour before gathering the crimson mess and hanging it over his scabbard and baldric. It had been a mad, horr...
“Lentulus is the obvious choice.” “No, no, no, no, no” Fronto grumbled, the wine – less watered than anyone else’s in the tent – sloshed over the side of his cup and added a fresh spatter on the legate’s breeches. “Lentulus let his men go berserk chasing down the fleeing tribesmen. Possibly on Ca...