《Sword of Ares (Greco Roman inspired Epic Fantasy)》


 Chapter 0 - Sons of Ares

    FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER


    Hadarthas, the shaman, opened his mouth to the sound of beating drums and throat singing.


    To Alan¡¯s ears, what he said sounded like gibberish.


    The shaman''s eyes were wide open, rolled back, as he jumped to his feet, shivering like a reed in the wind. His voice morphed into that of a woman, high-pitched and shrill, and his words seemed to cut the air like a razor.


    ¡°The world... The world... The world will cease to be.¡±


    Alan the Blacksmith shivered. He turned to face Skapasis, the chieftain of his warrior tribe. Skapasis had a wide grin on his face, his red mane partially covering his furrowed brow. His gleaming armor caught the light from the bonfire. A dozen Dragon Knights in plate armor, his elite warriors, stood beside him, encircled by banners and tents, observing the oracle and anticipating a favorable omen before the battle.


    "See, you fools?" Skapasis shouted, raising his jeweled sword into the air, a dragon etched into its pommel. ¡°Our armies will destroy this empire, we will reign in fire! Itruscia will fall! We shall sack her and our oppressors shall be our slaves!"


    "The world¡­" Hadarthas¡¯s screams grew louder, piercing into Alan''s ears. "Fifteen years, in fifteen years, they shall come again. The world... It is better to die... It''s better to die than to see them come back.¡±


    Skapasis'' proud expression turned to uncertainty.


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    And the shaman continued: ¡°Please die, die, let us die, let the whole world die before their return... They wait, dreaming they wait... Inside the earth... They wait... They will return, in fifteen years, they will return... It is better for the world to die than to see them return."


    Skapasis¡¯ generals exchanged glances. The drummer continued beating and the other acolytes remained on their knees.


    ¡°Let us die, let us die, it is better to die!¡± continued the shaman.


    "Enough of this farce," Skapasis growled through his teeth.


    Hadarthas'' screams did not cease. He danced over the embroidered carpet, as if bound to it by an invisible energy, then looked at Alan with rolled eyes, red veins stretching through them. He dropped the prayer wheel, threw himself at Alan''s feet and grabbed him by the legs; looking up and opening his mouth in an uncanny grimace.


    "Don''t let her come near it!" Hadarthas cried like a rabid dog.


    ¡°Who?¡±Alan asked, moving his feet out of the way. Was he talking about his wife, who was miles away, campaigning against the capital of Itruscia?


    ¡°Don''t... Don''t let her... Don''t let her!¡± Hadarthas shrieked.


    Alan suddenly blinked in surprise as he saw Skapasis lift his sword and thrust it into the shaman''s spine.


    ¡°I will not tolerate this!" said Skapasis, pulling his sword from the shaman''s dying body. Hadarthas strained his back, and after a couple of spasms of pain, he lay still.


    The beating of the drum ceased. The faces of the other generals were pale as hemp paper.


    Then, Skapasis wiped the blood from his sword with a woolen handkerchief.


    He raised his sword, eyes fixed on the nightsky.


    ¡°Goddess of the Hunt, you have betrayed me!¡± he shrieked. Dozens of banners with his emblem, a red dragon, fluttered violently as if in response. ¡°Your oracle has now been silenced, and so shall you be silent before our tribe! We reject your betraying word! But by Ares, I swear we shall burn the Eternal City to the ground! The dragon will swallow the world!¡±


    ¡°The dragon will swallow the world!¡± echoed a hundred voices, the Generals of Gadalia, the Dragon Knights. But Alan remained still, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his knees trembling. He turned back and rushed toward his horse. Whatever was about to happen, he had to get to the battlefield. He had to get to his wife.

 Chapter I - The Artisans Daughter

    FIFTEEN YEARS LATER


    Alana rushed toward the door of her hilltop house and pushed it open. The warmth of the forger¡¯s furnace shielded her from the cold autumn air. After a week of hard and boring work at mistress Zita¡¯s house, it felt like heaven.


    ¡°Father, I¡¯m back,¡± she said with a smile, carefully holding the woollen scarf she had made for him during the week, hiding it under her blue cloak.


    But there was no answer. She looked around, brushing a tendril of blonde hair away from her face. Had she been too late or too early? Father¡¯s old dragon armour rested on a stand next to the door, its serpentine metal scales covered with a thick layer of dust, and the fangs of the dragon helmet above were starting to corrode. She hated seeing it like that, she would have to dust it later since he was too busy with his new apprentice.


    Her eyes wandered through the small hallway of arching flat bricks. She narrowed her eyes, fearing something was wrong.


    ¡°Father?¡± she called again. She fidgeted with the scarf in her hand and strode by, dropping her leather travel bag at the door of the only dormitory.


    ¡°I made something for you at weaving class,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you like it. I missed you.¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you won¡¯t just let me help you at the workshop.¡±


    There was no response.


    ¡°Father?¡±


    Where had he gone?


    She walked past the narrow dining room into the workshop. She stepped inside, and the heat of the charred coal engulfed her body, and she smiled. It had been like ages since she had not been in her father¡¯s forge. Her own home. For the past couple of months, father, once again, had been complaining about nightmares and visions, and had prohibited her from getting close to the workshop. It had been years since she last assisted in his work, and nothing made her blood boil as much as seeing that dumb foreign apprentice handling high quality Gadalian iron.


    ¡°Fabyan?¡± she called for her father¡¯s apprentice but heard no answer either. He wasn¡¯t there. At least, some good news.


    She sighed and revealed the present to herself, a red woollen scarf with a dragon knitted into it. Where was he? And it was the first time she came home for the week and nobody was around. That was unusual.


    Alana swallowed and looked through the window. His absence had an upside. No one around, a perfect chance to peek through her father¡¯s work. She approached the furnace, its upper part was round, shaped like a beehive, with a square opening below, where the burnt coal and ash were still warm. A forge blower lay on the side, and behind it, an anvil with a piece of fine iron on top, already reminiscent of an Itruschian army blade.


    She liked swords, but the Itruschian kind were the least interesting. She knew her father had some more intriguing requests to deliver. She peeked through the chests and small wooden tables covered in organized rows of crucibles and gold fibres. And lo, there it was, a golden piece, designed to adorn the guard of a senator¡¯s sword. It had beautiful filigree reliefs representing an eagle with its wings spread, around it, the one they called the Brown One, the beast that guarded the forest, and mountains in the distance. All contained within five inches of pure gold.


    But beauty of gold was not in its price, but in the detail. She caressed the gold, running her fingers over the ridges of the wings with reverence.


    ¡°Alana, what are you doing here?¡±


    Alana staggered back, startled, and dropped the piece inadvertently. It clanked in the floor. Her heart raced.


    She turned. Her father, Alan the Blacksmith stood before her, his brawny tarnished arms crossed over his leather apron. His face was dark with the coal particles that stuck to his thick brown hair and his moustache.


    ¡°Father!¡± she said as she faced him. ¡°Sorry, I was just¡­ I was just looking for you. I came back from weaving school. See.¡± She presented the scarf to him with a regal gesture, bowing her head slightly.


    ¡°How many times have I told you not to come inside the workshop?¡± he said sternly.


    ¡°Sorry! Sorry, I was just¡­!¡±


    ¡°How many times?¡±


    ¡°I just¡­!¡±


    ¡°You disobeyed me again. Get out!¡±


    She squeezed the scarf in her hand, then threw it at his feet.


    ¡°But that boy gets to see you work and help you, and you won¡¯t let me anywhere near the forge. Why a stupid boy who¡¯s not even your blood and not me?¡±


    Her father¡¯s stern expression changed slowly. He took a deep breath, and his lips twisted into a slight smile. He sighed and dropped on the wooden stool next to the furnace, placing his arm on the table.


    He met her gaze unflinchingly, his sapphire eyes boring into her own.


    Suddenly, she felt guilty. She had burst into anger while he remained calm like a newborn sheep.


    She swallowed, then reached for the ground and lifted up the scarf. She dusted it off.


    ¡°Sorry for throwing it. I really made a scene.¡±


    ¡°Sorry for being harsh to you,¡± he said with a smile.


    ¡°For you, head artisan.¡±


    ¡°Aha, the dragon.¡± He smiled, reaching for the scarf and taking a closer look at it. ¡°Good work. You like dragons, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. It means a lot to me.¡±


    Her father¡¯s guard was down, and her spirit was up. She had thought about it all week long, and she knew that was the time to let it all out.


    ¡°I have something to say. May I speak?¡± she said.


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± he said calmly.


    Alana cleared her throat.


    ¡°Father! I can be a better goldsmith than he¡¯ll ever be!¡± she blurted out. ¡°Even a better blacksmith. I can do everything better. You know me. You know my knowledge. I have memorized the processes, the ingredients and methods to make iron stronger and more durable. I have learned from you. Please. I¡¯m fifteen already. Don¡¯t let me waste my youth away. Fabyan can¡¯t even tell good iron from the bad.¡± She opened her eyes wide, like a puppy. Her father had to understand before it was too late. Her knitting instructor was already talking about marriage. That would ruin her life. Especially if she didn¡¯t get to choose. Her dreams of becoming an artisan would crash into the ground.


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    Her father looked through the small window on the side. A chill breeze was coming through it, making the heat more bearable.


    ¡°Ala, I am proud of you,¡± he sighed, facing her. ¡°But times are different now. We have to stick to the rules of this land. You are talented like no other girl I¡¯ve met. But life is not what it used to be, you must accept your lot. It¡¯s not like back in the steppe.¡±


    ¡°Father, they don¡¯t even care about us! You make swords for them, you make armour, shields, and at the same time they laugh at our people, they use us as battlefield fodder. We are Gadalians, proud free people, but they...¡±


    ¡°Have you been listening to Uncle Jovus again?¡± he asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°No! I mean, yes, but it¡¯s not because of anything he says. It¡¯s plain for all to see.¡±


    Alan¡¯s deep voice was loving but stern:


    ¡°Child, we must do what we must to survive. And more importantly, to preserve peace. You weren¡¯t there back then when we rode through the world with no place to call home. It was hard. And Senator Yurius wants his son Fabyan to be a great blacksmith, and it¡¯s the least I can do for the work he has provided.¡±


    ¡°Living here¡­¡± She pouted. ¡°Knitting apprenticeship¡­¡±


    ¡°I thought you liked knitting.¡±


    ¡°Knitting is fine, but¡­ I want to work with gold!¡± Alana tensed her fists. ¡°I want to make iron tools! I want to decorate holy relics. Swords!¡± She said with a wide smile, and Alan seemed to shudder at the word. ¡°I want to be like you, and this stupid old Empire won¡¯t let me. And that simpleton you¡¯ve got at your workshop¡­ Father¡­ You won¡¯t even let me help you. It is as if you thought my hands would melt if I stepped in here. As if it sickened you physically. Why?¡±


    ¡°I have my reasons.¡±


    ¡°Well tell them to me!¡±


    ¡°I told you already. This world expects something from you. Do what they say now so that you can do what you want later!¡± He paused for a second. ¡°That little Fabyan, he¡¯s got a lot to learn,¡± he laughed, then frowned. ¡°And he did not come today, which is strange.¡±


    ¡°Admit it.¡± Alana smirked. ¡°He¡¯s got no talent.¡±


    ¡°Well, hopefully one day he will.¡±


    Alana¡¯s smirk turned into a frown. That was it. Her father gave all his time and effort to a nobody while she had to go to knitting lessons with Irema¡¯s annoying mother. And yet, he kept putting Fabyan on top. It was all about him. How could he? That hurt like treason.


    She stood up and turned her back.


    ¡°Did I say something wrong?¡± he asked.


    She ran and pushed the door open. She stepped into the rocky road and ran downhill, the cold bit her skin again, piercing to the bones. Tears stung the corners of her eyes.


    ¡°Alana! Alana, come back now!¡± she heard his voice ring behind the walls.


    Life was not how she wanted. Why wasn¡¯t life like in the stories of old, when women rode next to their men and forged blades that planted terror in the hearts of their enemies, now their masters, like Uncle Jovus used to say?


    Why wasn¡¯t life like when they were free to fight and love and be brave, and not forced to sit for fifteen hours on weaving class?


    Five thousand years of Gadalian metalwork to waste away.


    Her father had betrayed her.


    She stopped abruptly, took a deep breath. Had she been too rough? He had to understand. Maybe that would make him see. Maybe, that was the way to show him. She clenched her fists. She would hide away until he would call out for her. Then, she would come back to him, and he would probably compromise.


    As she walked through the round houses that led to the town square, she noticed a group of girls, hair braided and wearing tunics with flowers and birds knitted into them.


    Some of them she knew from knitting workshops, but only one of them was her true friend: Irema, the instructor¡¯s daughter.


    She rushed to the side of the road, behind the house of Yinvar the Miller, and knelt behind a pile of hay.


    She heard runny breaths behind her, someone was watching her. She turned around and found a youthful penetrating glance; a boy with short, dark hair and tanned skin looking at her from a small window.


    ¡°Tor!¡± she whispered, bringing her finger to her lips. ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡±


    Anyway, Tor would not talk. He just couldn¡¯t. He was just eleven, four years younger than her, and completely mute, and yet, as an only son, he was on the way to become the owner of the town mill. He was nice and sweet, he surely deserved it, she thought, but she couldn¡¯t help grimacing at the thought that a mute was going to inherit his own family¡¯s legacy and she would not.


    ¡°Tor, stay there¡­¡± she muttered.


    Alana faced the road, like a young lioness stalking her prey.


    Irema walked up along with the group, clay vessel in hand. Alana waited attentively until they had passed by her, then, when they had turned their backs, Alana sprung up from behind her, forcing her vocal chords to deliver the loudest scream she could.


    Irema jumped, dropping the clay vase, which broke into a dozen pieces and the water splattered about.


    Alana chuckled, but the other, older girls stared at her in disbelief. The oldest and most boring of them all, Gitara, already pregnant for the first time, shook her head disapprovingly.


    ¡°Alana!¡± Irema said, horrified, staring at the broken pieces.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Alana muttered, containing her laughter.


    ¡°Alana! Look! Why did you¡­?¡±


    Gitara, the pregnant girl stepped forward. She gave Alana a freezing glance.


    ¡°Alana of Adachia. What would your father think? Act your age!¡±


    ¡°Come on, Gitara! I¡¯m just playing,¡± Alana said, hands on her hips.


    ¡°That¡¯s precisely what I mean.¡±


    Alana scoffed, but did not say anything. Her father would have done the same thing. Maybe he would have considered the vase, though. She had not thought Irema would drop it. She cleared her throat and let out a small laugh.


    ¡°You should have seen your face, Irema. Anyway, sorry, really! I will give you one of the vases at home. By Venus, I hate carrying water.¡±


    Irema¡¯s frown turned into a grin.


    ¡°Besides, I made a nice wristband for you the other day,¡± Alana announced proudly.


    Alana noticed it was still clinging to Irema¡¯s wrists, a band made of leftover gold, twisted into beautiful patterns. The closest Alana could get to working with gold.


    ¡°So?¡± Alana said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Do you want to take a walk?¡±


    ¡°Mother is waiting for the water,¡± Irema muttered.


    ¡°Who says you¡¯re not seeing her again?¡± Alana said with a wink. ¡°Tell her there¡¯s a big queue.¡±


    ¡°At the river?¡± Irema raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Come on, Irema!¡± Alana said.


    Irema turned to the other girls.


    ¡°Girls, you can continue, I¡¯ll catch up with you.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Father doesn¡¯t understand,¡± Alana said, sitting on a boulder close to the hilltop, both looking down into the village and the red, dry forest below. ¡°Keep your hands soft and pretty, stand out of the fire,¡± she said, imitating his rough voice and running her hand through her hair.


    ¡°I know,¡± Irema shook her head.


    Alana narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°No offence, but how can you know, Irema? Your dreams are exactly what they expect of you.¡±


    ¡°Well, I know you and know what your dreams are. Anyway, I¡¯m sure your father loves you.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not the issue here,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°And he wants the best for you.¡± Irema looked at her in the eyes. She did that a lot.


    Alana tilted her head and lifted her palms up.


    ¡°How does he know what¡¯s best? And¡­ Knitting? I could do better.¡±


    ¡°Now that is just sad,¡± Irema shook her head, offended. ¡°How many times do I have to tell you? Can you make designs like Mother Zita? No. Don¡¯t disparage the great and noble arts of weaving and knitting.¡±


    ¡°Sure. But¡­ I would like to create something beautiful that can stand the test of time. I mean, fabric is fine but¡­ It¡¯s good for a lifetime. Even if it lasts, people can¡¯t keep wearing it. It¡¯s a memory. Whereas iron, gold,¡± she emphasized that last word. ¡°I don¡¯t care about possessing it. I just want to create something beautiful, even if no one knows my name; I¡¯d just put my soul into it, and let it live on for hundreds of hundreds of years. Even iron.¡±


    ¡°Alana. Life is not that complicated. Don¡¯t think of something too much or you¡¯re going to lose yourself. Besides, you¡¯re fifteen. We have a life ahead of us. And things more important than knitting and gold. Like marriage, for example.¡±


    Alana sighed.


    She stared at Irema. The mere mention of marriage made her friend smile like a fool. ¡°Well, talking about knowing your friend¡¯s dreams, you¡¯re definitely excited about that.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait,¡± Irema said, revealing her shining white teeth. ¡°And¡­ I know you¡¯d like to get married too.¡±


    ¡°Eh, it¡¯s not my priority.¡±


    ¡°Come on.¡± Irema elbowed her arm


    ¡°Fine, I would offer myself eagerly only if it was to Atila of Lak,¡± she smiled, and felt blood rush into her cheeks; thinking of the gallant cadet who lived a few houses down with his father, another blacksmith and former captain in the steppe days. Atila was perfect; although she had never talked to him, she had only heard good things about him, and seen his massive back muscles, his arms the size of tree trunks, his perfect chin and more than perfect crooked smile. And he was as tall as a tree.


    That was what she would daydream about during class. Riding into the horizon, side by side with Atila, living in a movable home, and forging weapons and art. Too bad he probably didn¡¯t know she existed.


    ¡°Speaking of¡­¡± Irema said. ¡°He will be at the fair today, you know?¡±


    ¡°What fair?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise, the town folk have seen a caravan coming from the west. Someone who knows how to read said it¡¯s got fair written on it.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± She remembered the life-defying tricks the jesters had performed the previous year. The one who juggled with fiery daggers was her favourite. ¡°What are we waiting for?¡±

 Chapter II - The One-Eyed is King

    Governor Larius spurred on his white stallion as the six Kaltanian hunters rode by his side, all with bronze bows and dozens of fine arrows in their quivers, heavy chain mail over their shoulders, and long braided beards. Two of them also carried bronze spears, long and sharp. Senator Cladius spurred behind them, wondering what they were saying in their incomprehensible tongue. His horse was well-bred, and its mane was trimmed carefully and combed under the golden armour. Masterful Gadalian metalwork covered the horse''s head and Cladius¡¯ own ceremonial helmet, which was made of gold. And yet, with his short stature and eternal potbelly, he looked unimpressive next to Larius and his crew.


    ¡°Come on, Senator. The beast is not far,¡± Larius said, bracing again and staring at the trunk of an oak with his single eye, examining it as if it held the clues for a successful hunt. He smiled faintly and lifted his head. ¡°Forward!¡± He said, turning his horse around and spurring furiously.


    ¡°Coming,¡± Cladius said as he trotted by, passing through the tree. He noticed large claw marks piercing the hard bark.


    Cladius sighed and kept riding, trying to remain close to the group. ¡°Larius¡­ How near is the beast?¡± he asked.


    Larius looked back at him, annoyed, and forced a smile. ¡°Very near, old friend. I have been tracking this mad deviless for days,¡± Larius looked up, his bronze hair reflected the autumn sun. ¡°Now, I''ll teach her. I''ll teach her and all her seed.¡±


    Cladius noticed anger flashing in Larius'' only eye. A black patch covered his other; the one he had lost in battle. A fencing scar crossed through his cheek.


    ¡°I¡¯ll teach her good,¡± Larius went on.


    Cladius asked himself what the poor beast had done to deserve such hatred.


    Larius galloped in front of him, down the forest path, as the trees grew thicker and their branches more twisted. Fallen red and yellow leaves still covered the ground.


    They rode up toward a dark cave, its entrance covered with moss and lichens, as well as bushes of red leaves. Cladius noticed the tracks that guided the hunters.


    Larius raised his gloved hand and the company halted.


    The chatter of the hunters ceased. Larius remained with his hand raised, and the whole company waited in silence for any sign of movement.


    At first, Cladius could not quite tell what he was hearing, for it was little more than a rustle, like leaves shifting underfoot. But it soon grew louder, a thudding of feet hitting the ground, like that of someone running in the woods. He swallowed back his fear and kept his eyes trained on the entrance to the dark cave.


    Cladius had never seen a live bear before¡ªthe only reference he had was the rug that lay in his sitting room¡ªand he had not realized that it would be so big. Fearlessly, the beast charged against Larius, undeterred by the flashy bows of the hunters, confident in its own knife-sharp teeth and enormous claws.


    Larius¡¯ horse turned, terrified, and its rider forced it to stay, bolting the reins calmly. The brown bear rose on two feet, its eyes black like coal but reflecting the light of the sun, its brown ears mutilated by scratch marks, perhaps from previous bear fights, its snout capable of tearing an arm in one bite. It towered over the Governor like a castle, and yet, as mighty as it seemed, the troop seemed like a cruel persecution against an innocent force of nature.


    The bear roared furiously, and Cladius remained calm, holding the reins and ready to run away if things turned out for the worse.


    The governor spurred hard, grasping the spear firmly and thrusting it into the bear¡¯s neck.


    Cladius felt a sense of dread engulf him and clenched his fists involuntarily.


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    An arrow from the company followed and struck the beast in the chest. Cladius shut his eyes. The bear stumbled back, as more arrows rained on her. Soon, it collapsed to the ground letting out roars of agony.


    That was it. That was the hunt, he shook his head, staring at the blood that slowly flowed down from its wounds, dampening the brown fur and painting it red. Why had Cladius even agreed to go, he asked himself. Stepping into the beast¡¯s territory and killing it mercilessly had been nothing short of barbaric.


    Cladius noticed a shadow move behind the branches. Two small bear cubs hid, moaning like lost puppies.


    ¡°Come on, Cladius, the coup de grace, please,¡± Larius said, snapping his fingers.


    Cladius felt his stomach sink.


    ¡°This is barbaric,¡± he said, trying to keep his nausea at bay. ¡°Never talk to me about this wretched activity again.¡±


    Larius laughed, climbing down his saddle, then arranging his hair. He walked toward the beast, put one sandal-bound foot on its body and pulled his spear out. Dark blood splattered around. The beast lie dead and its eyes lost their lustre.


    ¡°Pontus,¡± Larius talked to his fellow hunter, a Kaltanian man with long hair and a braided-beard. The hunter braced and his horse neighed as if in fear. ¡°Kill the young ones.¡±


    ¡°Aye, sire,¡± the barbarian responded in a coarse accent. He shut one eye, put an arrow on his bow and shot at the hidden cubs. A dreadful moan was heard, and Cladius shook his head in disgust.


    ¡°The cubs too?¡± he stuttered and nervously ran his hand through his curly hair. No one answered why.


    And all for a bear skin rug.


    Or was there another reason for the hunt?


    ¡°You shall get used to it in time, old friend,¡± Larius said as he wiped the blood off the tip of his Gadalian spear. Cladius noticed the intricate design; on the tip, he saw a metal relief of the Gadalian Bear Goddess, the one they called the Brown One. Cruel irony, or an even crueller choice.


    ¡°You like Gadalian metalwork, do you not?¡± Larius asked.


    ¡°I do,¡± Cladius muttered. Why did he ask that question? Did he know of his ties with the artisan guild?


    ¡°Of course you do,¡± Larius chuckled. ¡°What¡¯s there not to like? They are good, those wretches.¡± He sighed, examining the tip of his shiny lance, as if frowning at the bloodstains that got stuck in the detailed reliefs. ¡°Anyway. Now that we¡¯re talking about it; I have news for you. Good ones for me. For you, you will have to get used to the changes.¡±


    ¡°What news? What changes?¡± Cladius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°This morning, dear Senator Cladius, my greatest hunt will begin. This will culminate my life¡¯s work.¡±


    ¡°Hunt? Governor, what are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°My friend. Trust me, it will be the greatest deed on my command. For the good of our own people.¡±


    Another arrow flew from a Kaltanian bow. Another bear cub gone. Cladius looked away.


    ¡°Trust you with what?¡± he asked Larius, unable to hide the disgust from his face.


    ¡°Two hundred miles from here, at this time, a special legion has entered the largest Gadalian village in the province I govern, back in Tharcia. They will clean it. No men left. The next day we¡¯ll pay a visit to the tribes beyond the river. The Gadalian menace will be no more.¡±


    A sudden sense of dread filled Cladius¡¯ heart.


    ¡°Larius, what are you talking about?¡± he asked, shaking his head.


    ¡°Good goldsmiths they are,¡± Larius said, rubbing the emblazoned tip of his spear, wiping the smallest trace of blood. ¡°Great archers. But their hearts are not set on this Sacred Empire.¡± Larius suddenly fixed his eye on Cladius, his expression changed, his smile faded, as if he were evoking an ancient crime. ¡°Remember the sacking of our great Capital? Remember how they burned our cities, how they raped our women, how they killed our children? I know for a fact they plan to do it again.¡±


    ¡°Larius, that was fifteen years ago! No¡­ Larius, they are forging your swords, raising your cattle. Are you...?¡±


    ¡°Yes. No survivors. Today we will feast on their sacred bear and drink the wine of Zerunos. Their conspiracy will be thwarted before noon.¡±


    ¡°Larius, you cannot be serious. There is no conspiracy. I have contacts in the province, and I can tell you for a fact that¡­¡±


    Larius spurred on and laughed, turning his back on Cladius as the Kaltanian men dismounted, their blonde braids shaking in the wind, and went to dismember the she-bear.


    ¡°You will thank me later.¡± The senator smiled, turning back his horse for an instant. His brown hair fluttered slightly, and his scar made him look more sinister, like the bloodthirsty god of the underworld. ¡°They¡¯re on their way, my friend. Now, if you may, come to my villa, and let¡¯s have a drink.¡±

 Chapter III - Fair of Death

    Alana and Irema strode down the rocky path, passing next to the wide pastures, property of Imperial General Marius and his son, Kassius. The gate of the property was open, with its unique red roofed villa in the center, like an embassy from another world in the midst of the austere Gadalian houses. Kassius happened to be outside, sitting on a boulder under a naked tree, holding a carbon crayon and a piece of papyrus. A dozen goats pastured behind him, and the targets his father and him would use to practice archery stood in the distance. Arcturus, his Alanut dog rested, with his huge grey head buried between strong furry wrists. When Arcturus saw the girls, he lifted his head, his long tail wagged expectantly, but his master kept his attention fixed on his papyrus.


    Alana shook her head, astonished at Kassius¡¯ concentration on something so boring as paper and carbon. She lifted a blunt earthy stone from the road and threw it at him. It bounced next to his feet, and he lifted his smiling face, first looking around. Then, he saw them and smiled.


    ¡°Hello, queens of the steppe. What brings you to my realm?¡± Kassius stood up; his hemp tunic was open, revealing his bony chest and the folds of his ribs. His skin was deeply tanned, and his brown hair was unruly like a cuckoo¡¯s nest.


    ¡°Hello, warlock supreme,¡± Alana said, kneeling down and calling the massive Alanut to her side. It approached with its ears forward and tongue out.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Irema said, jumping over the boulder, and taking a look at what Kassius was doing. Alana raised her head in curiosity.


    ¡°He does it all the time,¡± Alana said. ¡°It¡¯s magic.¡±


    ¡°Ah. It¡¯s a sigil,¡± he said, proudly displaying the drawing to the bewildered girl. Alana caught a glimpse, it looked like a compass or a wheel, with a big sickle coming up from on top, and below, a small spiral. Hellenic letters filled the spaces in between.


    ¡°What is it for?¡± Irema asked.


    ¡°Eh¡­ That, you shouldn¡¯t ask,¡± he said, folding the scroll and putting the carbon pen inside his pocket.


    ¡°Come on. Is it a love spell?¡± Irema put her hands together, her round face took a playful expression.


    Kassius¡¯ face turned red.


    ¡°No! How could you think I would be wasting my time on something like that?¡± he said, hiding his deep green eyes.


    ¡°Then what is it, genius?¡± Alana asked, raising her head again, then turning again toward the dog. Arcturus licked her hand. ¡°Who¡¯s a good boy?¡± She said to Arcturus, dropping to her knees and petting its neck again.


    ¡°To protect my goats and sheep,¡± Kassius responded.


    ¡°Do you think a drawing will scare wolves away? I think you have enough with a dog like that,¡± Irema said, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°The drawing? It¡¯s a sigil. Of course it works!¡± Alana said.


    ¡°I mean.¡± Irema cleared her throat. ¡°Wolves cannot read. Not even Alana and I can. Why would a piece of papyrus scare them?¡±


    Kassius jumped down from the boulder and wiped his trousers.


    ¡°That¡¯s the point of magic!¡± he said, lifting his chin. ¡°Power and will charge images and geometric constructions.¡±


    ¡°If you say so,¡± Irema said, her eyebrows up. She cleared her throat.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Alana stood up and smiled at him. ¡°We¡¯re here for a reason, Kassius the Sage.¡±


    ¡°What reason, Alana the Brave.¡±


    ¡°A fair is coming to town. Now. Put on your boots and let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Fair?¡± Kassius scratched his messy hair and narrowed his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s almost winter. Bad timing. Are you sure it¡¯s a fair?¡±


    ¡°Yes, people have seen them riding up from the provincial capital. I wonder what they will bring this year. And come on, it¡¯s not even cold.¡±


    ¡°By Jupiter, everybody¡¯s gonna be there then,¡± Kassius said, rubbing his chin, where a sparse beard was already forming.


    ¡°Yes. Are you coming with us?¡± Alana asked with her eyes open wide.


    He looked around for an instant.


    ¡°Nay, I cannot. Father is still with his Legion up north, and the stable boy, Badratz, has his day off. You know, everybody¡¯s free today. I guess I¡¯m the man of the house and I¡¯ve got to take care of the flock.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Nice excuse. Who would steal your cattle here? You¡¯re too lazy to move that skinny butt of yours, as always.¡±


    ¡°Eh, not so fast, blondie. This is my duty here.¡±


    ¡°Come on. Better excuse next time.¡±


    ¡°Well, see you around. Thanks for passing by, anyway,¡± he said, climbing the boulder and taking out his carbon pen.


    ¡°Fine, see you whenever you deign yourself to spend time with the only people who can stand you. Bye, loner,¡± Alana said, giggling and turning her back on him.


    ¡°He¡¯s a little strange,¡± Irema said when they were back on the road.


    ¡°Of course he is,¡± Alana said. ¡°He is half Itruschian.¡±


    And yet, he was her best friend.


    The northern part of the village was stiller than ever. Groups of trees surrounded the round houses, most of them with small stables, at least to hold each family''s horses, if they could afford them or if the ones they had brought from the steppe were still alive. As they approached the valley, they encountered more people walking in the same direction. Alana noticed the long-haired men, already wearing wool coats over their naked and tanned backs and belts with intricate buckles of gold and glittering collars of the same material. Many of them carried their little children over their shoulders, as their elder sons and daughters followed close.


    The town square was lit by the sun above. A chill breeze passed through the round houses, coming from the nearby hills. The square was full, around five hundred people stood gathered at the center, young and old.


    But something drew her attention more than anything else. The cadets, who would soon be legionaries. Tall, except for a few who compensated for it with their broad shoulders and backs as wide as chariots. One of them towered above the others,


    ¡°Alana, you''re drooling,¡± Irema said, giggling.


    ¡°Cut it out,¡± she said. ¡°By Ares. He¡¯s amazing.¡±


    Alana stared at Atila of Lak, who happily joked with his friends. How tall was he? Maybe six and a half feet. His shoulders were round, his arms wide as tree trunks, with bulging triceps. His veins stretched through his forearms. His eyes were wide and brown, matching with his short beard and short hair, and even though he was so impressive, his face and smile were tender, like those of a baby.


    What a man.


    As he jested with his comrades, he looked where Alana was standing. Maybe she was staring too hard. Their glances fixed for an instant. Alana felt blood rush violently to her cheeks. She smiled, shyly.


    And his eyes remained fixed on hers.


    It was happening.


    He was looking at her.


    His eyesight shifted very slowly.


    Now, it was her time to dream. She felt as if she was drifting through the clouds above. What if¡­ He really wanted to talk to her.


    ¡°Irema¡­ Did you see that? He was looking at me. Staring.¡±


    ¡°No way!¡±


    ¡°He was! Irema¡­ What if¡­!¡±


    A thousand images rushed through her mind. She calculated the scene to the smallest detail. Atila would walk by her and ask for her opinion on the quality of Gadalian blades and how much better they were when compared to Kaltanian ones. Or, maybe they would bump into each other at the market, he would help her to her feet, and everything would flow from them. Up to their marriage, journey to the east, where she would forge the most amazing sword for him, with emblazoned gold spirals and animal designs, and maybe she would make a sword for herself. And they would ride toward the endless steppe, as the sun would cast its rays upon the great¡­


    ¡°Alana, are you okay? You¡¯re drooling again.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ Sorry.¡± She blinked, then Irema grasped her hand tightly and ran through the crowd, dragging her along.


    ¡°Let¡¯s find a better spot,¡± Irema said. Alana tried to keep up with her pace.


    ¡°Excuse us,¡± Alana said, as she pushed through the people; old ladies from the Southern clan, the usual gossipers, some young boys who used to fish and play war games close to Kassius¡¯ farm; and people who she knew by looks and not by name.


    ¡°Hey! Uncle!¡± Alana caught a glimpse of Uncle Jovus. He was a bit younger than her father, and bred Alanut dogs, selling them to anyone except Itruschian citizens. Uncle Jovus did not hear her, and she soon lost track of him in the crowd.


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    Soon, Irema stopped, and Alana looked up and caught a glimpse of Atila towering over her and everyone else. Alana¡¯s heart seemed to stop for a minute, and she felt her stomach turn. There stood Atila, his back wide as a table, a white fur vest over his shoulders, and no shirt underneath. He was wearing leather pants. His muscular legs arched a bit, common for the people who rode horses all day long.


    A hero, like those of legend.


    Irema elbowed Alana lightly. She blinked.


    Now what?


    No. Alana knew what Irema was thinking. Maybe she was planning on getting payback for the jump scare and the broken vessel.


    She prepared, shaking her head, and looking at Irema in the eye.


    Please don¡¯t¡­


    Irema pushed her, not too hard, not too lightly, and Alana lost her balance, bumping forward into Atila¡¯s back.


    Atila fell forward, trying to hold himself up and failing. He fell on one hand and a knee, and Alana fell on his back.


    ¡°Oh, my gods!¡± Irema shouted.


    Alana wished to stay there for longer, but she slid down to the floor, ending up beside him, lying face down. Atila jumped back to his feet.


    Alana¡¯s gaze met the gray rocks of the paved road and people¡¯s boots. She blinked, and under the blazing sun above, she saw a rugged hand extending toward her. Atila¡¯s face emerged from the light, like a titan descending from heaven.


    She did not make a sound.


    The thoughts came back delayed, she reacted, grabbing his hand. His palm was rugged like leather, but its warmth made Alana¡¯s stomach feel like it had been invaded by lightbugs. Atila sweetly helped her to her feet, and she instinctively moaned when their hands separated.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Atila asked, wiping the dust off his vest.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Alana said, arranging her hair, and smiling awkwardly.


    ¡°Be careful,¡± his honey coloured eyes fixed on her. ¡°People are not considerate these days. Pushing people around like that.¡± He revealed a crooked smile and perfect teeth.


    ¡°Right,¡± she said, blinking.


    An awkward silence ensued on her part because he immediately turned to his comrades and kept talking about a peculiar experience at bootcamp.


    Notice me, please.


    If not. Who cares?


    ¡°Hey, you,¡± she heard a male voice behind her. Someone tapped on her shoulder. ¡°Ala, good to see you!¡± the voice said.


    Who was calling her Ala? She hated it when people other than her close friends did.


    Badratz, the stable boy, was pushing through the crowd and walking toward her. He had a wide face, a giant chin and disheveled blond hair that dropped on his shoulders. His face was strangely big for his skinny body. Not a good looking fellow.


    ¡°Ah¡­ It¡¯s you,¡± she muttered, then turned her back on him and looked for Atila, but he had disappeared into the crowd.


    ¡°Yes! Good to see you here!¡± the boy said. ¡°I¡¯m surprised I found you. How have you been?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, good to see you too,¡± she said, stretching her neck to spot Atila¡¯s perfectness again.


    ¡°That was your chance,¡± Irema said, rubbing Alana¡¯s shoulders.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I should thank you for that,¡± Alana said, biting her lip.


    ¡°Sorry I pushed you too hard,¡± Irema whispered.


    But Alana would not have changed anything in the world for that closeness. As grandmother used to say, she should be with someone who would appreciate her. She had to find someone ideal before they forced her into an arranged marriage. And Atila was more than ideal.


    One more year, and pressure would be on her.


    ¡°And then¡­ I think I¡¯m going to buy my own horse,¡± said a voice behind her.


    Alana remembered Badratz was still talking to her.


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes¡­ I¡¯m going to have my own horse!¡± he exclaimed, chin up and hands on his hips.


    ¡°Oh, yes. That¡¯s amazing!¡±


    But she did not want to settle for Badratz. How many people were there in the village? Okay, she could not count that high, but¡­ A couple hundred to choose from, at least.


    Suddenly, Irema sighed in surprise.


    ¡°Ala,¡± Irema whispered in her ear. ¡°Karus is there.¡±


    ¡°Your fianc¨¦?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m going to surprise him,¡± Irema said with a wide smile and light in her eyes.


    ¡°Oh, sure. Have fun.¡±


    ¡°Good luck with Atila.¡± Irema winked at her.


    Badratz kept talking to her. Poor guy, she thought. Hopefully he could find someone or stop being weird.


    Then she heard wheels moving slowly, coming from the road below. The multitude made way, splitting into two factions against the street. It was three carriages made of wood, of about ten feet in length each and small windows on the side, guided by half a dozen horses. Jesters dressed in their red and white costumes, with furry hats painted blue, whipped the horses sporadically.


    ¡°Wait, Badratz.¡± Alana lightly tapped on the stable boy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°The fair is coming.¡±


    ¡°I wonder what kind of a show they will put on today. Interesting, huh? I bet they will do the sword dance they did last year. You know, the one with the fiery swords. I liked that one, and what about the one...¡±


    Then, her eyes were overshadowed by a wide figure. She turned and found Atila looking at her. She blinked, startled. He held two brioches of grilled lamb, charred onions on top and bell peppers in between the lamb slices.


    ¡°Hope you didn¡¯t get hurt,¡± he said, his voice was deep and pleasant like a war trumpet. He slowly handed her the treat. The aroma of melted fat and spices made her drool as much as Atila¡¯s presence. ¡°Here you go. Hope you like it.¡±


    Alana felt like her soul was shot up toward the clouds, and slowly, perhaps a minute later, she nodded.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she muttered so softly she could not hear herself, and a wide smile formed on her lips.


    ¡°Enjoy it,¡± Atila said.


    Alana¡¯s mouth had dropped and kept smiling like a fool. She noticed Atila¡¯s eyes had dilated a bit. They fixed on her and did not flinch. She did flinch.


    ¡°It¡¯s my favourite. How did you know?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s my favourite too,¡± Atila declared. His smile, so crooked, his teeth, sparkling white, that square chin and those chiselled cheekbones. He was just perfect.


    ¡°Alana, it¡¯s coming!¡± Badratz was pulling the sleeves of Alana¡¯s cloak. She turned slowly, almost bitterly. As she did, she noticed something raise in the hills around the village. She narrowed her eyes. Yes, there were men rushing out of the bushes, wearing dark hoods. There was about a hundred of them. What was that? Some kind of new protective squad?


    What if it was the local legionaries coming back? Now that would make for a sweet surprise.


    ¡°What the Hades¡­?¡± Atila said, looking through the houses, as bewildered by the vision as she was.


    Half a second later, a sentinel blew the horn of alarm. A few of the men looked around, confused, as some reached for their swords.


    Alana overheard Atila talking to a comrade beside him.


    ¡°Blast! Do you have your sword with you?¡± he asked his fellow cadet.


    ¡°No. Do you?¡± Atila¡¯s comrade said, his eyes narrow with suspicion and fists clenched.


    ¡°What the devil could this be?¡± Atila looked around and grasped the handle of the small knife he carried on his belt.


    The carriage stopped a few feet away from them. It stopped, as if freezing in time. After a few seconds, its upper door flew open with an explosion of fireworks and¡­


    Alana blinked in disbelief.


    Her stomach turned.


    A dozen arrows pierced out of the window¡¯s holes. And they broke loose, penetrating bodies of men, women, and children who stood in the way. A few of them fell to their knees, arrows piercing through their necks.


    The people who stood in front of it, wounded or unharmed, stepped back in a fright, and turned around to run to the hills. The archers shot again, and more people dropped down, including a woman and an old man, both with arrows stuck in their bodies, panting, as their relatives screamed in horror.


    ¡°They¡¯re imperial soldiers!¡± Atila said, as he rushed opposite of the crowd.


    Alana stood paralyzed. A dozen men jumped out of the carriages. They carried long spears and dashed into the crowd. The crowd scrambled through, and Alana saw them pushing the women as they ran and targeting the unarmed men. The men ran towards their homes in search of their weapons.


    Her heart pounded like a war drum.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here!¡± Badratz said as he grabbed her by the arm.


    She reacted. She nodded lightly and ran by his side into the crowd, feeling a slight melancholy for leaving the brave and strong Atila behind, he could surely protect her.


    But the wisest thing was to hide.


    She felt a quick gust of air buzz next to her head, and she realized an arrow had flown by her. She swallowed.


    As she ran, she tripped over a man¡¯s body, and she fell forward and put out her hand, which crashed roughly against the rocks, and lost contact with Badratz. She turned back. It was someone she knew. Uncle Jovus¡¯ brown hair and beard, his aquiline nose and the bandana on his forehead. He agonized in pain, narrowing his eyes and gasping. An arrow pierced through his belly.


    ¡°Uncle...¡±


    Alana felt a scream escape her mouth, as if she had lost control of herself.


    Was that really happening?


    Her stomach lurched, what little of the lamb she¡¯d eaten threatening to come back up.


    ¡°Alcha...¡± Uncle Jovus said. ¡°Tell your father to run¡­ I was right¡­ They¡­ They...¡±


    ¡°Uncle,¡± she said, dropping down. She grasped the man¡¯s calloused hands.


    ¡°Run...¡±


    ¡°Uncle, don¡¯t...¡±


    As she got up, she noticed Badratz¡¯s weight had disappeared. She turned around slowly and saw the boy¡¯s wide body on the ground and a lance stuck in his lower back.


    He moaned in agony, as a pale faced soldier removed the lance from his body and blood sprinkled around.


    She stared at him from below. It was an Itruschian man; a man from the Empire, it seemed, with dark hair, a pale face, and a segmented bronze armour under a coat of fur. He looked at her with wide eyes and a hungry glance.


    She swallowed.


    Then, she saw a tall figure approaching from behind. It was Atila. Blood gushed down his shoulder descending from an open cut. That did not stop him from wielding his knife and lunging against the legionnaire. The Imperial soldier dodged, swinging his lance against him.


    Atila ducked, jumping and passing the knife to his left hand. He moved swiftly, hitting the soldier in the neck.


    The soldier stepped back, touching the blood on his neck. He clenched his teeth as Atila tackled him and took him to the ground. Atila struck the knife on the man¡¯s heart, then pulled the knife out. Blood dripped from it onto the dusty rocky ground.


    Suddenly, an arrow flew hitting Atila in the back. His body tensed immediately, and he opened his eyes in horror.


    ¡°Atila!¡± she screamed.


    Alana was still paralyzed. Atila panted, and his eyes slid upward until his gaze was fixed on her.


    Another arrow rang through the air, among a hundred others. Buzzing left and right, but that one echoed in Alana¡¯s head. Atila rose on his hands and knees, locking his gaze with her as the arrow went through his neck, and blood started pouring out.


    ¡°No!¡± she screamed again, until she felt like her vocal chords were tearing. Atila stopped moving. Her mind raced and sensed every dream and desire she held collapse in two.


    A dry shriek escaped from her mouth.


    She tried hard not to faint.


    Alana struggled to her feet, looking around. Father, what about Father? She had to find him. But where was Irema?


    Around her, the crowd had dispersed, valiant fathers and husbands, no armours on their bodies, swung their woodcutting axes and tools against the soldiers. They resisted bravely, until the soldiers from the hills reached the village, surrounding and locking the struggling men, pushing the women aside or guarding them around the walls, as the men were executed. Horses¡¯ hooves rumbled and made the ground shake, arriving from the forest and fields around the village, wielding lances and swords, entering and killing.


    ¡°You, get over here!¡± A lance wielding soldier pointed at her, as she scrambled through the fighting, and she ran again. She then looked at the upward rocky path and the hill above, where Alan of Vharzia¡¯s housetop still emitted black smoke.

 Chapter IV - Chlid of the Dragon

    Alan of Vharzia rubbed two rocks together and lit the coal inside the furnace for another day of hard work. He pressed the blower, and a flame slowly erupted from what were at first only red sparks. Pressing it again, small particles flew out of the furnace, and heat emerged, familiar and exhausting, the giver of both beauty and pain.


    The loneliness around him made him weary. Where was the boy who traveled every morning from the provincial capital to a barbarian village? Had he fallen ill? It left, however, the day to himself. He could not go out running after Alana. She, although youthful and fiery, was old enough to take care of herself. And, he trusted, old enough to understand. After all, he could not blame her. Alan remembered his wife Ileria, the same fire and light in her blue eyes, the same rebellious spirit and wish to fight. She had been a General, a married woman, a mother. He sighed, and his eyes moistened.


    But he knew he had not completely lost Ileria, as her essence had, in the mysterious way of the gods, taken shape in their daughter. As he hammered the iron piece against the anvil and red and yellow sparks jumped out into the autumn air, his heart was also warm.


    He could not complain, for so long had he fought, chasing after a peace that finally, the gods granted. His daughter was safe. Safer than Ileria ever was.


    Alan¡¯s sweaty arm did not stop. He smiled to himself and glanced at the red scarf on the side. The symbol on it, too familiar, too painful to remember, yet so fascinating and personal. An emerald-colored dragon, with its tongue sticking out and wings spread open. And his daughter was obsessed with it, like he had been, and that obsession had brought his people to the greatest battle ever fought.


    He swore, once again, not to let his daughter near a sword, for his mind raced every night with images of the war. He woke up screaming almost every day, seeing the burnt roofs and the dragon flag above, seeing Ileria die over and over. And lately, Alana.


    And he would not let that happen. He would not lose the one he loved the most again.


    But those were merely, never accurate enough to be called visions, he thought to himself. He wiped the sweat with his forearm and stared out the window.


    Something moved in the trees below. His smile faded, and he narrowed his eyes. He pulled the window open and stuck his head out into the cool air. He saw riders approaching from the hills and woods, like ants, their bodies armored and their necks covered in fur. But they could not be Gadalian legionnaires in service of the Empire, as their fur coats were dark, not made of possum but probably from the fur of the Sacred Bear. The mere thought of that made Alan press his teeth in disgust.


    Alan focused on the furious riders below and the figures that emerged from the bushes in the distance.Then, he heard a sound he recognized from the distant past: an alarm horn, deep and piercing. It was the same type of horn he had heard back in the steppe, this time coming from the watchmen¡¯s tower, and it meant only one thing. His hands paled, and a million images from the past passed through his mind. His soul weighed on him, as if being pulled away from his body.


    But how could it be? There was peace among their peoples. What did it mean? How could they be attacked by their own hosts, the very people they served?


    What he saw through the window made him gnash his teeth in rage. The riders and foot soldiers had their swords drawn, their lances in hand, going after the men Alan knew, who ran or tried to fight with their hands.


    He stood, paralyzed, unable even to think, even to be in denial. Turning his head, he reached for the door and shut it. He had faced an attack time and time again; he had always survived. He looked to the side where the dragon armor leaned against the wall. He grabbed it carefully, fidgeting through the dusty iron plates that muddied his sweaty palms. He wiped the layer of dust with a hemp handkerchief. The reptilian scales regained a bit of their old brightness, but they still seemed dim. It had been more than a decade since he had worn it.


    Behind the door, he heard the hooves of horses, and the horn kept ringing in his ears. The threat was serious, and he had to act fast.


    He rushed to the corner, lifted the armor, and put his hands through the shoulder pads, but was surprised to discover that his frame could not go through it. He growled in frustration. How come? He did not feel fat at all, but of course, was not the slim, muscular youth he had been in his prime. He tried again, squeezing his arms through the narrow shoulder plates.


    He sighed, giving up, and dropped it in frustration and haste. He looked around for scraps or bronze plates for unfinished cuirasses, but all his armor models had been sold. He only had an unfinished piece of chainmail, which he put on promptly. Then, in an old chest full of metal scraps and nails, he had hidden his greatest work. He knelt beside it and gently put his hand through the piles of metal, pawing through them, trying to feel the leather sheath that hid his dragon blade.


    Then, the door flew open.


    ¡°Men of the house, yield yourselves!¡± he heard the too familiar accent from the Imperial capital.


    ¡°I am only a humble artisan,¡± he muttered, his hands still scanning through the scraps.


    ¡°Stand up, put your hands where we can see them!¡± the soldier growled. Alan lifted his head and glanced toward the small hallway. An effigy of the Bear Goddess stood at the entrance, and next to it, he saw the soldier. The armor had not changed after fifteen years; he had made hundreds of them, all in the same old design they wanted to preserve.Proofread lightly:


    ¡°Stand up,¡± the soldier said, and Alan noticed bloodstains on the sides of his drawn gladius sword and his forearms, partly hidden by dark leather wristbands.


    ¡°What is it about, soldier?¡± Alan asked, trying to keep his cool, but his heart hammered and yearned for Alana¡¯s safety.


    ¡°Are you deaf, blacksmith? I said stand up and put your arms up. You come with me.¡±


    ¡°What is going on? We have a right to know. This is a peaceful village in the service of the Empire,¡± Alan said in a calm voice.


    ¡°Shut your rat mouth and come over here, or we¡¯ll get you crucified. We have direct orders. Any hindrance to our operations will be dealt with in extreme measures.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    Alan knew that the soldier could not be reasoned with. There were times when he had to be ready for violence.


    The soldier shook his head, impatient, and with his sword drawn, forward, ready to be used, he dashed into the forge.


    Alan kept his arms behind. He had found it. He slowly stood up, grasping the handle of his curved dragon blade and unsheathing it silently behind his back.


    The soldier went for a sloppy forward thrust.


    But Alan¡¯s weapon was longer, and taking a step back, he blocked with his dragon blade, knocking the blade out of the hands of his attacker. The soldier paled, confused.


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    ¡°What kind of behavior is this, boy?¡± Alan said, holding his dragon blade in both hands, forward, and slightly bending his legs. The blade felt heavy in his tired arms, but he trusted his training.


    The soldier instinctively lifted his hands; his expression had morphed into fear.


    ¡°What is going on here?¡± Alan asked, pointing the blade at the soldier¡¯s armored belly.


    ¡°We are here... to put down a rebellion!¡± the soldier cried, sweat dripping from his forehead.


    ¡°Rebellion?¡± Alan frowned. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°The Mysteries!¡± the soldier said. ¡°The Mysteries of Ares, you are planning to...¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about, boy?¡±


    ¡°Your people! They¡¯re trying to destroy the Empire!¡±


    Alan raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Now, tell me, take a deep breath and tell me what this is about.¡±


    The soldier shook his head, eyes wide open in terror.


    ¡°Surrender your sword, the entire village is surrounded,¡± the soldier said, but it sounded more like a plea than a threat.


    ¡°Tell me, boy, tell me what¡¯s going on or I¡¯ll put this through your belly.¡±


    ¡°No, please no,¡± the soldier moaned.


    These soldiers were not like in the old days, Alan thought, giving up so quickly and so easily.


    Suddenly, there was clanking of metal and rushed steps at his front door, and a young soldier with tanned skin and dark blonde hair stepped inside, another one waited from outside, his skin was darker and he was tall like a pine.


    ¡°Lucius, are you done?¡± said the first. ¡°Come on, you can get fun with the girls after the work is...¡± he shook his head in disbelief. ¡°What in Pluto¡¯s name...¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± The soldier Alan had beaten held his hands on high. ¡°Help me!¡±¡±My gods, is that a Dragon Blade?¡± the tall soldier asked, rushing in. He looked no older than eighteen. ¡°Lucius, this guy must have been one of the guys Father told me about. The Dragon Knights!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, and I don¡¯t care,¡± Lucius said. ¡°You, old man. Drop that blade or we¡¯ll give you a slow and painful death.¡±


    ¡°Who are you calling old, boy? You boys,¡± Alan looked at them, then lifted his blade up to Lucius¡¯ neck. Lucius swallowed and lifted his head. ¡°Now,¡± Alan looked at the soldiers at his doorstep. ¡°You two get the hell out of my house and my village, or I¡¯ll puncture through this fellow¡¯s very long trachea.¡±


    ¡°You leave our friend alone,¡± the tall soldier said, unsheathing his gladius.


    ¡°Wait!¡± the shorter one said, stopping his friend with his hand. ¡°We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You have no idea, there are five hundred of our men in this village. We¡¯ve entered and overwhelmed the defenses. Most of your kinsmen are dead. Understand it? Dead. Our men will kill you, so be wise and yield yourself.¡±


    Alan blinked. Once again, like fifteen years ago, his instincts overwhelmed him.


    ¡°Please be quick, or he¡¯ll kill me,¡± Lucius moaned, his stretched arms shook as if they were in pain.


    Alan clenched his teeth. They were killing his people. Like he had seen, an indiscriminate attack on the unarmed. A massacre. Why? Alan struggled not to let that information strike him hard. He pushed it away, to let it wreak havoc on his mind later, but¡­ Could it be? Alana was not at home with him. She was in danger. No, he could not allow it. His heart pounded even harder, and he clenched his teeth, but he took a deep breath. It was not possible to fight with fear.


    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t kill an unarmed man,¡± Alan said, and quickly kicked Lucius in the stomach, sending him flying across the room. Lucius crashed with his back against the table and it fell, breaking it in two.


    Emotion rushed through Alan¡¯s body.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Alan said.


    The two soldiers lunged at him with their gladius swords. Alan¡¯s reflexes blocked the tall soldier¡¯s diagonal cut, and he ducked to avoid the blond one¡¯s sword thrust. He noticed he was way slower than in his old days, so he stepped to the side to focus on one soldier at a time. He chose the short, blond soldier.


    The soldier tried to stab him again, a terrible idea against a longer weapon. Alan swung his Dragon Blade, and it cut through the soldier¡¯s temple, piercing two inches into his skull. His head dropped to the table on the side, his eyes remained open and lifeless, and blood poured out like the filling of a berry lava cake.


    ¡°You bastard!¡± the tall soldier cursed and went at him with his blade. Alan quickly pulled the blade out and blocked the incoming blow. The tall soldier had more range, and the circular blows he was attempting were faster and more dangerous.Alan pulled to the side and went for the soldier¡¯s elbow, slicing through the inside. It wasn¡¯t enough to slice the arm off, but blood did flow down like a pressurized fountain, and the soldier recoiled his arm with a loud shriek.


    Alan shut his eye, whirled, and sliced the soldier¡¯s neck with one blow. The head dropped like a ball, unleashing a crimson-purple shower, and the armored body fell with a clank.


    The remaining soldier. The one who had broken in first. What was his name? Rufus? Lucianus? He lifted his hands again in surrender, shut his eyes, and lowered his head.


    ¡°Please kill me quickly!¡± he cried. ¡°We just wanted a wife, we just came because they told us!¡±


    ¡°You will go and tell them to get out?¡± Alan said.


    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± he blurted out. ¡°They will crucify me or make lions devour me. Kill me. Kill me now,¡± he begged.


    Alan pressed his lips. The thing he thought of doing was selfish, he thought, but he could not bring himself, again, to kill an unarmed man. The pain of his past was too much.


    ¡°Grab that sword,¡± he ordered.


    ¡°What?¡± the soldier questioned with a moan, lowering his hands.


    ¡°Do it,¡± Alan insisted.


    ¡°Alright,¡± the soldier muttered, kneeling down, without taking his eyes from Alan, and grabbed his friend¡¯s gladius with trembling arms.


    Alan smelled urine. It was coming out of the soldier¡¯s toga. Alan stepped forward and grasped Alana¡¯s scarf with his left hand. He felt the strands of wool and the hemp embroidery his daughter had made.


    ¡°Go for it,¡± Alan said. The soldier swallowed and attacked, eyes closed and sword forward.


    Alan had to make it painless.


    He took a long step and thrust the blade through the soldier¡¯s neck. It went halfway. Alan pulled the sword out. The body fell on knees and then dropped forward with arms outstretched.


    Alan panted and leaned on the furnace. He wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been so long. Now, he had to find his daughter.


    He reached for the corner of his house, put on the dragon-shaped helmet, panting, his eyes blurred like a serpent¡¯s eyes, his mind struggling to keep control of his emotions.


    He looked at his sword and kissed the bloodied blade.


    ¡°The Dragon will swallow the world,¡± he whispered the old formula, one he thought he would never say again. He stood up, his knee aching, and walked to the open door. Through it, he saw what had seemed like a distant nightmare of the past, and now under the piercing sun and not a wall of stars. He saw burnt roofs, he saw his neighbors dead on the street, others fighting with cooking knives and shovels, others being slaughtered by groups of soldiers. He saw the fair sons of his friends lying like slaughtered dogs, their bellies cut open. He saw the fair daughters of his people with their backs to the walls of their round houses, their eyes open wide, sweat and blood on their foreheads.


    His heart turned again. There was nothing but rage pulsating through his soul.


    ¡°Alana,¡± he screamed.


    The soldiers saw him.Fifteen years ago, he heard a prophecy.


    He heard of it, and it came with images of death and words of something evil that waited under the surface of the earth. He had seen it in dreams, fearing for himself and his daughter.


    And in that moment, his second sight was opened again.


    He saw Alana.


    She would survive that winter.


    He saw the forest of deep greens, flowers blooming around her, her hair shiny like a golden sun dropping down to her hips, riding a brown stallion, a jeweled sword in her hand.


    And although in the vision she wielded a sword, he did not mourn failing in his duty as a father. He smiled, but in the physical realm, three soldiers ran toward him. Their expressions turned into grotesque masks of war and fury, almost eyeless under the bronze galeas. Their swords were sharp and lustful for blood.


    One of them brandished a bloodied sword at him. Alan blocked it again, then a spear was thrust into his side. He felt the piercing metal open and move into his skin; then the world around him seemed to slow down, and the pain was sweet, like a vaporous drug that entered through his open blood and dilated time itself. What was he seeing? And in the air above, he saw Ileria ride on her old white horse Yvarkas, a spear in her hand, just as it was fifteen years ago.


    Alan grasped the scarf tightly in his left hand.


    Metal cut through his knee, an attack he was not quick enough to block, and the weight of his body dropped down on one side. The blades of his enemies sought to penetrate his flesh, but his skillful arms deflected them.


    His enemies surrounded him, but he kept blocking, he kept fighting. The spear exited his side, and he gasped for air. Another spear in his back, and his body stiffened. Ileria looked at him from above, her hand extended toward him, inviting him to join her in the Elysian fields. Her smile was as perfect as ever, her thin red lips sweet and inviting, her scarred tanned skin of her chest, and her eyes blue and gray like the raging sea of the south.

 Chapter V - Iron and Soul

    Head Priest Aranus the Elder stood before the kneeling worshippers, atop the altar, with a burning furnace hanging from a chain in his hands. A golden ceremonial breastplate hung heavy from his neck, representing the sacred beasts the stars drew every evening. Assistant priests on the side, between the pillars, throat sang and recited enchantments. A fire and a cauldron of burning seeds stood under the stairs beyond the altar, separating him from the followers. The sweet scent of the sacred seeds filled the Sanctuary of the Holy Oak; that old forest shrine that had to be converted into a marble temple according to legal requirements of the Sacred Itruschian Empire. And the sacred fire cast its light on the walls, as Guarding Stones stood on the side, and a replica of the Red Sun of Ares shone over their heads, as a gleaming rose-coloured ruby.


    Suddenly, the wooden door opened, and twenty men stepped in, one by one, all of them wearing long coats of bear fur. The worshippers stared at the blasphemous sight of the Brown One flayed and displayed as a thing of naught. The appearance of the men was also foreign, with distinct sharp features, short wavy hair, and shaven faces.


    Head Priest Aranus the Elder welcomed them with a nod. They passed through the pillars and surrounded the Sacred Labyrinth, not bowing before the holy relics, and frowning at the scent of the Holy Flowers that perpetually impregnated the temple and opened the wisdom of men.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± the priest said in a low voice, ecstatic and gleeful with the holy smoke. Then, he cleared his throat and spoke again. ¡°You are not from around these lands, it seems. We welcome thee, nonetheless. This is a sanctuary to Ares, our protector.¡±


    ¡°We are traveling warriors,¡± one of them said in an accent Aranus could identify too well. An Itruschian. Aranus nodded and glanced back at the worshipers. The throat singing rang in their ears, and he noticed the wary glances of the travellers, as if wondering what kind of a being could produce such a sound.


    After a long silence, a veteran, Vasa, stepped forward to demand for a blessing. His hair was straight, now grey. Aranus remembered him as a Dragon Knight, fighting alongside their old chieftain, riding against the Empire. And now, Vasa¡¯s own son was an Imperial Legionnaire. A long black moustache hung from his nose, and a humble coat, with blue and gold colours, covered his entire body. He walked solemnly up the stairs of the altar, and he knelt before the fire that separated Aranus from him and shut his dark eyes.


    ¡°Aranus the Elder,¡± the man said, kneeling on one leg and stretching his arms to the sky. ¡°Please ask for the God of War to take care of my son, Adna of Adachia, for we have received no indication of his state. We know not whether he is in health or wounded. We know not of his campaigns, and we pray his Legion has not been decimated or lost in the Northern forests.¡±


    ¡°I will do, with this sacred fire,¡± Aranus said solemnly.


    ¡°Please grant me my wish. I only desire to hear of my son again, and so does my wife.¡±


    Aranus noticed a woman kneeling, hands interlocked in prayer, and a young child next to her. The little one had his father¡¯s features, dark hair and beautiful small eyes. A future warrior.


    Aranus started to recite the Chant of Visions, and as accustomed as he was, he quickly entered the visionary state, expecting to see something.


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    In that moment, Aranus felt a surge of energy go up his spine. He clenched his fists, as a rush of memories raced through his mind, like a meaningful dream he had forgotten as the day went by.


    His eyes were fixed in the distance.


    He saw¡­


    Blood on the floor.


    Fire on the roofs.


    And that was not the North. The houses were round, covered with hay, with the hills of Adachia towering from behind like silent witnesses.


    Blood.


    A blade, and golden light. The earth¡­


    ¡°Priest Aranus?¡± Vasa spoke.


    Aranus was speechless for a second, and when he lifted his head it was too late. But how could it not have been?


    Two of the strangers walked to the back and blocked the door.


    Adna¡¯s mother, startled by the sudden gesture, rushed to the door, one of them opened his coat and revealed full Imperial armour. The woman stepped back, then turned and went back to the stones, kneeling again, as if nothing had happened.


    Then, the other soldiers jumped to their feet, throwing the coats to the floor, and revealing their segmented armours and the swords that hung from their belts.


    Aranus took a stumbling step forward as the men grabbed the worshipers by the hair, mostly women, wives of legionaries far away, and pointed the knives to their necks.


    Aranus said in a loud voice, waving his bare hands, and raising his bearded chin.


    ¡°What is this defilement, legionaries! Who is the centurion of this legion? What is this?¡±


    ¡°Remain calm, old man,¡± a voice spewed. One of the soldiers was speaking. He had wavy dark hair, a square jaw, and deeply tanned skin. ¡°This has been ordered by the Governor of the Province of Tharcia, Larius Brutus Caitanus.¡±


    ¡°What is this? Leave these guests of the Empire alone! For the love of all the gods of righteousness.¡±


    ¡°We will need your cooperation, old man.¡± The soldier stepped up. Aranus recognized the armour. He was the centurion.


    ¡°What for! Our peoples are at peace!¡± Aranus said.


    ¡°This is serious. Now, swear your cooperation and...¡±


    ¡°To swear what?¡±


    ¡°Swear your allegiance to the Empire, old man.¡±


    ¡°You know what I have sworn. My people, collectively, have agreed to move to this land and serve the Empire. No more revolutions, no more battles, as long as our mutual terms are agreed.¡±


    ¡°It is not what the Imperial intelligentsia has uncovered. Now, yield yourself. We want you alive.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do as you please. Now, don¡¯t bother these people any more.¡±


    ¡°Swear it, for the Empire.¡±


    ¡°Swear what?¡±


    ¡°Swear it!¡± the man said, as he pointed his blade at a mother and child kneeling beside them. She screamed, her face contorting in fear.


    ¡°I swear my allegiance!¡± Aranus said. ¡°Now, leave them alone.¡±


    ¡°Your cooperation has been noted,¡± the centurion said, turning toward the door. ¡°Kill all the men,¡± he spewed.


    ¡°What?¡± Aranus stepped forward, as the legionaries unsheathed their short swords.


    Vasa turned around, trying to protect himself with his forearms, but one of the soldiers lunged at him, sword in hand, and cut through his chest.


    ¡°Betrayal!¡± Vasa said bitterly, and the soldier attacked him again, slicing his neck. Aranus contemplated the cruel irony that befell Vasa. His son¡¯s very comrades in arms had killed him. Aranus clenched his fists and his teeth, he cursed the soldiers in the depths of his mind, but his frail body was useless against their weapons. He blinked in disbelief. Was he having a nightmare? Was he trapped in a vision of the future? He tried to wake up, to no avail. But the screams and spilled blood around him proved it was all too real.

 Chapter VI - Fate of a People

    Alana felt as if she was drawing strength from her dead friends. She ran uphill, hiding from the soldiers as fires blazed over the hay roofs and arrows buzzed by her side.


    Her heart pounded like a galloping horse as panic pulsated through every fibre of her soul. It made no sense, the collapse of her world unfolded before her eyes, like a nightmare come true. Left and right, she saw people she had known since childhood, some fighting for their lives with whichever tools they found, many bloodied on the ground, and some, especially women, elderly, and infants kneeling against the walls, cruelly watched over by Imperial soldiers.


    What had they done to deserve that?


    Badratz had died, and Uncle Jovus, and Atila... And then, left of her, she saw Tor, the mute boy, running away from a soldier with bloodied sword in hand, they passed close to her, near a round house with an intact roof of hay and wood.


    Alana screamed out her lungs. ¡°Leave him alone!¡±


    She ran, then grabbed the child''s arms, and pulled it, then shielded his body with hers. The boy sobbed by her side, his black hair covering terrified blue eyes.


    ¡°Leave him!¡± she repeated, lifting her chin at the approaching soldier.


    ¡°Get out of there, wench!¡± the soldier snapped, his bloodstained gladius held forward, facing her. The smallpox scars on his face made him more frightening.


    ¡°I said leave him!¡± Alana wrapped her arms around the boy¡¯s head.


    ¡°We have orders,¡± the soldier scoffed, his square face was dark and small-pox beaten. ¡°You let him go if you don''t want to be punished. It''d be such a shame to waste you.¡±


    ¡°Over my dead body!¡±


    ¡°Foolish girl. We will kill him, so stop getting in the way. We must kill all men capable of telling the tale, and this one will talk.¡±


    ¡°Talk? The boy is mute!¡±


    The foot soldier wiped the sweat from his forehead. Then, he laughed like a madman. He stepped out and reached for Alana¡¯s arms, forcing her to let go of Tor, then pushed her to the side. She fell on her elbows and groaned when the rocky path bruised her skin.


    ¡°Are you really mute, boy?¡± the soldier said, grabbing the boy¡¯s face and lifting it up, pushing him against the round wall. ¡°What¡¯s your name, vermin?¡±


    Tor opened his lips, but an unintelligible sound came out.


    The soldier lifted his sword menacingly.


    ¡°No!¡± Alana said, stretching her hand.


    ¡°Talk, you vermin! Come on, what are you waiting for?¡±


    The soldier pressed the sword against the boy¡¯s neck. Tor panted, turning his head away, Alana cringed when a single drop of blood formed above the tip of the blade.


    ¡°Come on, say something or I cut you up slowly!¡± the soldier growled.


    Tor would not speak. He just could not.


    Suddenly, the soldier faced her.


    ¡°Girl, you know what? I like your bravery. Maybe I want to keep you for myself.¡±


    He glanced back at the boy, clenching his teeth, as if resisting the urge to slice his neck with a flick of his wrist.


    ¡°So, we don¡¯t have all day, kid,¡± he muttered. ¡°Say something. I know it¡¯s in you. Say it in one¡­ two...¡±


    Alana got up silently, on her tiptoes, and grabbed a sharp rock from the road and jumped at the soldier with it, smashing it on his head.


    The soldier collapsed forward. He growled furiously and got up, teeth clenched and eyebrows tensed. Anger flashed in his eyes.


    ¡°Now you¡¯ll see!¡±


    Alana gasped. She knew she had to run. Her feet responded quickly, and she rushed upward.


    ¡°Get back here, Gadalian whore!¡± the soldier¡¯s rough voice called, and she heard his pounding feet chasing after her. She thought of running into a house, but as she approached one, fire blazed on top and threw fiery ashes beneath. A rider loped in front of her, blocking her path. The horse neighed and rose on two muscular legs.


    She stepped back, losing her balance. As she tried to go around it, its armoured rider spurred hard, and the white horse lunged on her, raising clouds of dust and ash. She could not run away and tripped forward. The horse''s hooves surrounded her, and she curled her body defensively.


    The rider spurred, the horse rose its forward legs, and she rolled out of its way, crawling on her hands and back. She stood up and reached for a passage in between two houses. She raced through it as the flaming roof was collapsing and bathing the ground around with fire.


    But it was too late, as the foot soldier dashed out of the other side and lunged at her, pushing her to the ground. She crawled back to the wall, as the man pointed his bloodied sword to her neck. She swallowed and looked up.


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    ¡°Up,¡± the soldier growled. ¡°Up! We don¡¯t have all day!¡± he said.


    ¡°Walerius, what are you doing?¡± the rider spoke from above. He was way younger than the foot soldier.


    The foot soldier turned. The rider glared at him bitterly.


    ¡°Get on with the program,¡± the rider said. ¡°Stop wasting time and bring the girl.¡±


    Alana heard a sound like a foreman¡¯s whip next to her and jumped in fright. The man had struck the ground with his blade, then drawn a line on the ground.


    He looked up and spat on the road.


    Suddenly, he reached for Alana¡¯s hair and pulled. She screamed, frantically grabbing his arms.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Walerius, the foot soldier, said, facing her with his scarred face. Alana felt his warm breath, it smelled of garlic and cheese. She dared not to breathe to not smell it again. He quickly let go of her hair, and she stepped back, her body against the round wall.


    ¡°Get your hands off me!¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make this any harder,¡± Walerius said. ¡°From now on, you will behave, or we will not treat you well. Understand? Be a good girl, we¡¯ll treat you right. Be bad, you¡¯ll see what we mean.¡±


    She frowned and looked at him in the eye.


    ¡°You¡¯re worse than a monster. You...¡±


    The rider yelled at his comrade.


    ¡°Come on, Walerius, everybody¡¯s finished already except you. Here.¡± The rider took out a rope from the saddle and threw it at him.


    Walerius pulled one of Alana¡¯s hands and drew it toward him. She kicked Walerius in the shin, trying to break free.


    ¡°Now you do put up a fight.¡± He rushed to tie the rope around Alana¡¯s wrists, then got up. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said, pulling her close.


    ¡°We will kill you, just wait until our legionaries come,¡± Alana said with a frown, pushing her arms away.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about them,¡± Walerius said.


    ¡°Just wait!¡±


    He forced her back into the rocky road, and she looked up at the hill where her roof was now burned to ashes, and a bloodied arm lay nearby, the body hidden by other houses¡¯ walls, its palm up, inert.


    She did not need to see her father¡¯s face to know it was him. There was something around his palm, a cloth of red and green. It was the scarf she had weaved during the week.


    She looked away and shut her eyes again when he passed through the bodies of people she could recognize. Wailing buzzed through her ears as she wished to shut out the world around her but could not.


    Finally, the soldier pulled the rope and let her fall on her knees in the town square. The carriages that had brought the soldiers stood in the middle. Its horses still. A trail of women were sitting on the floor, backs against the carriage or each other.


    On the opposite side, a more gruesome sight ensued, and Alana looked away instantly; the bodies of the men of the city were piled against the round walls. All killed by sword and bow. Most of them unarmed. A race of warriors killed when they were the meekest, when they enjoyed time with their families.


    ¡°Sit there and wait with the others,¡± Walerius scoffed.


    Alana looked around. She caught a glimpse of Irema. She was sitting, with her back erect, a painful expression on her face and tears coming down.


    ¡°Irema!¡± she said and rushed through the wailing women to sit next to her friend. Irema stared at her, stood up, and wrapped her arms around her. She pressed her face against Alana¡¯s shoulder. The hug became tighter.


    ¡°Alana¡­ They killed my fianc¨¦. They killed him,¡± Irema said into Alana¡¯s shoulder, Alana placed her arm firmly on her back.


    ¡°Irema...¡± Alana shut her eyes, her spirit sank lower and lower, vibrating around her. She did not know what to say. She wanted to be reassuring, she wished to strengthen her friend¡¯s spirit, but her own heart had been torn to pieces. She had also lost her father, though she dared not speak those words. Thinking of what she had just seen hurt to the very core.


    ¡°Why...¡± Irema muttered. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± She heard a voice, and a soldier pulled them apart. ¡°If you two don¡¯t keep quiet, you¡¯ll see.¡±


    Alana nodded silently and drew her eyes away from her friend¡¯s. She stared at her wrists, now bruised, and sat between the women.


    ¡°They killed them all,¡± a woman next to her whispered. ¡°Why did we even come to this land?¡± the woman lamented.


    Alana shook her head. Her mind raced through possibilities¡­ She fantasized of rising up, all the women standing up at the same time, stealing the soldier¡¯s weapons and using them against them.


    She looked around. Not possible.


    Women young and old, girls, small boys, a few elderly men, sitting close to each other, awaiting their destiny.


    Her heart pounded so loudly she could almost hear it.


    Was this really happening?


    Father¡­ Was he really gone? She felt as if a stone had settled in her stomach.


    And what would happen to them now?


    She slid her fingers down through the rocky floor and gripped Irema¡¯s hands tightly.


    Suddenly, the captured multitude started to turn their heads toward the road uphill.


    There they saw Aranus the Elder stepping out of the shrine escorted by two Itruschian soldiers. His face was pale, almost matching his white beard as if he had seen a ghost, or worse; his village massacred.


    As the people fixed their glance on him, he lifted his arms.


    One of the guards approached him and spoke into his ear. Aranus turned swiftly and spoke, protesting to his words; then, turned back to the crowd, determined.


    ¡°My beloved people...¡± he said, his voice trembling. Everybody¡¯s glance was fixed on him. ¡°Today¡­¡± He cleared his throat.


    Alana thought, whatever he was going to say, the guards had forced.


    ¡°A day of mourning, a¡­ A consequence for a nefarious plot on which the men...¡± He paused for a moment.


    The guard next to him continued on his behalf.


    ¡°On which the men of this village had partaken. And not only here¡­ But Gathians, Hunyars, and the Sons of Wanaz. They have also been dealt with.¡±


    Aranus had lowered his head.


    Alana looked at Irena.


    ¡°By Ares¡­ What do they want to do with us! They are killing everybody! What did we do?¡±


    ¡°Lies!¡± said a woman in the crowd, standing up with both fists in the air. A handful of others imitated her.


    ¡°Liars!¡± another woman shouted, as many others accused Aranus of treason. ¡°My husband would never do that,¡± said another.


    A woman grabbed a rock, threatening to throw it but seemed paralyzed. Was it the Elder¡¯s aura? No¡­ They could not harm a man of the gods.


    And then, Aranus stepped forward and said in a loud voice:


    ¡°Please¡­ I beg of you¡­ Let us comply with the guests who have allowed us here¡­ Until¡­¡±


    The women protested, and a few rocks did fly in his direction, but failed intentionally.


    ¡°Until the Sun of Ares is set upon our stars again, the scourge of giants is raised, and¡­ the sword is found. We shall submit.¡±


    The soldiers stared at each other, in confusion.


    Alana understood.


    And so could only the ones who knew the legends.

 Chapter VII - The Conspiracy

    Cladius felt as if the whole world hung over his shoulders. He felt disgust and could barely look at the imperial eagle that stood at the back of the amphitheatre, guarded by three soldiers that stood like puny ants beneath its majesty, yet armed with bows, quivers, and short swords. Cladius had his hands clasped together, supported on his elbows, and his eyes were fixed on the empty space before him. His colleagues, the senators, discussed trivial matters, and Larius, the governor of Tharcia, walked down from the grand stairs. He reached the center of the amphitheatre. He cleared his throat, and it echoed throughout.


    ¡°Hail to thee, forgers of a great Empire. And hail our mighty Eagle of Jupiter,¡± he solemnly said.


    ¡°Hail!¡± The senators responded in chorus and saluted with their hands on high.


    ¡°Now, we come to you with news of a project,¡± he said boldly. ¡°A project gruesome and painful to us, fellow representatives of this great Senate, Empire, and People. But as grim as the matter at hand is, it has also been resolved.¡±


    Cladius¡¯s eyelids were twitching. He sunk his head between his hands. Yes, he had made disparaging comments about Gadalians. He had made them while drunk, in the presence of Larius. Could that have made him the recipient of that knowledge? Had he proven himself trustworthy in any way to such a coward and a killer? Or was it because of his intent on becoming Consul? Was that the reason?


    Larius went on with his tale.


    ¡°A few days ago, our loyal spies discovered a great conspiracy in the core of the Gadalian villages of Gathia, Adachia, and others. Many of these barbarians were found to be followers of vast and warlike superstitions, which they refer to as the Mysteries of Ares. In this dangerous sect, men are initiated into wanting blood and swearing to become kings; willing to enslave any other group as they go about killing hundreds and eating raw meat, drinking blood, and destroying every other Empire under the wheel of their chariots. Crushing civilization itself, agriculture, and peace under the hooves of their horses in exchange for gold and material wealth.¡±


    The senators looked attentively, as Larius wandered through the place, his toga and bracelets shining under fiery torches on the wall. His shadow grew like a giant.


    ¡°Among their prophecies is that when a purported Sword of Ares is found, all their oppressors will be crushed. By oppressors, they mean us. The Sacred Itruschian Empire.¡±


    A man stood in the crowd.


    ¡°Any objection, Senator Hunas?¡± Larius asked.


    The objector was wearing a long robe and a coat  could not hide the muscles of his frame. He was taller than most men in the group, and in his green eyes shone a fiery will.


    ¡°This is not true... None of my people have sworn...¡± The man¡¯s voice from the stairs was weak compared to the amplified echo when Larius spoke.


    ¡°Your people, Hunas Iulius Gadalicus? Explain to us what that means...¡±


    ¡°Senator Larius, I am from the high caste of Itruschia, but among my ancestors are renowned Gadalian warriors. I still have a connection to such a people group, and what you say is not true.¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Is it not true that the Sword of Ares refers to the elimination of an oppressive enemy.¡±


    ¡°Sire, it is a legend, like out of Elysian myths. Besides, that legend talks about giants. Giants, sir, not men nor beasts, but creatures from long ago. Myths, good sire.¡±


    ¡°Don''t you mean we are not giants? And that, my fellow noblemen, is the meaning this superstitious group has found in our glorious Empire! We, the greatest Empire in the world became the giants they fear.¡±


    ¡°Sire, that interpretation is...¡±


    ¡°Now let me continue. As I was saying, this dangerous cult extended to most men, as delivered by some of their priests, in secret. Thus, we uncovered a vast conspiracy  threatened to attack our city during next year¡¯s Juvenalia celebrations.¡±


    The crowd murmured.


    A senator raised his hand.


    ¡°I am Yurius Meridus, resident of Tharcia; and my son, under your own sponsorship, is an apprentice at the workshop of Alan of Vharzia. My son was prohibited to attend this week, the reason was not given; but sire, the people I have known are honourable and loyal to the Empire. No word of discontent has come out of his instructor¡¯s mouth. This Alan even instructs my child instead of his own daughter, who as my son has said, wishes she could study instead.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Larius said. ¡°We ordered the Tharcian office to stop your son from traveling because of the operation. And coming back to them. That is how deceitful they are. As we found about their preparations, our team in the province came to the most disturbing conclusion. Their plans were too dangerous and cunning, just as masterful as their metalwork. We made the most difficult decision. We decided to ambush them and eliminate them. We targeted all the men who were found to have ties to the pernicious sect, and we eliminated each and every one of them. And for your son, a more suitable instructor has already been found.¡±


    The murmuring began once again.


    So he had done it. In all three villages.


    ¡°The women, most of them at least, were spared,¡± Larius continued. ¡°Such an unfortunate situation, is it not?  to not cause further suffering to these women and children, we decided to provide them with opportunities. Families of soldiers from the province will now have the capability of taking them  wives.¡±


    ¡°As wives?¡± asked one of the senators.


    ¡°Yes, whenever possible, if not, some of them will be legally adopted as slaves but treated right. Understand that we have to take care of these people. Unfortunately, many of them have been lost to ensure stability.¡±


    ¡°You murderer!¡± Hunas jumped from the crowd and ran down the stairs; the senators around him watched him  a madman sprawling onto the floor. ¡°How... how could you?¡±


    Larius remained still.


    ¡°I assure you it was  the best interest  this Empire and its peace and prosperity,¡± he said calmly. ¡°It is a costly matter, but it will save us from a great deal of suffering. Imagine the damage they could do to a city? I do not want Itruschia to be sacked again. Not again! I lost my eye  those very same barbarians.¡±


    ¡°You... Our people made a deal with you.¡± Hunas was already in the amphitheatre, walking toward Larius, his shadow a massive spectre of blackness covering the room.


    ¡°You calm down, Hunas...¡±


    Old senators rushed to the stage, grabbing Hunas by the arms and pulling him back. From Cladius¡¯ angle, it looked as if he  watching a classical tragedy.


    ¡°Liar! Killer! None of that is true,¡± Hunas twisted his head and cursed.


    ¡°Now you, Hunas...¡± Larius pointed at him. ¡°Why are you opposing me!¡±


    ¡°You... you killed my people!¡± Hunas screamed, and his amplified voice rang through their ears.


    ¡°I am preserving this Empire,¡± Larius remained his calm. ¡°I am protecting...¡±


    Cladius observed in shock. He bit the nail of his thumb. Things were getting ugly.


    Hunas kicked one of the old men who were grabbing him. He let go. Then, the half-breed stuck his hand under his coat and unsheathed a short bronze sword. The old senators stepped back, alarmed, one of them with blood dripping down his arm from when he unsheathed.


    Hunas rushed toward Larius with the sword in hand.


    And yet, Larius remained calm.


    ¡°Traitor!¡± Hunas said, and arrows from the guards above the amphitheatre shot him before he could make a move. Cladius breathed deeply so as not to faint. Five or six arrows pierced through Hunas¡¯ back, one  his leg, and he collapsed to his knees, his face up, teeth clenched. He dropped the sword, which echoed across the room, as he slowly drifted into the world of the dead.

 Chapter VIII - Hope

    ¡°Come on, it''s time to go,¡± said one of the soldiers, with dark hair and an age-wrinkled face. He was probably the centurion, as evidenced by the strange helmet that towered like a red sun over his head and the insignia that hung from his cape.


    A soldier approached them and clapped his hands. ¡°Come on, women, get up, it''s time to march you down.¡±


    Alana rushed to her feet and helped Irema get up. They looked around as the multitude advanced, frightened and weary.


    ¡°What do you think they''ll do to us?¡± Irema asked, her voice low.


    ¡°By Ares... I don''t know, but they surely won''t buy us a gift.¡±


    ¡°Alana... They just... They just killed everyone. They killed Karus.¡± Irema¡¯s eyes were opened wide like ripe apples. She panted. ¡°They... Alana... I don''t know where my mother is.¡±


    Alana shut her eyes again. A tear finally escaped and slid down her cheek. She started to sob and clasped hands with Irema again.


    ¡°This... This cannot be. But¡­¡±


    ¡°It is not alright, Ala. It¡¯s not.¡±


    The image of her house burning and that arm on the path came back into her mind. She lowered her head.


    Father¡­


    Was he really gone? Like mother. She could not come to terms with that. Could that mean that she would never see him again? It did. It really did.


    She looked around.


    She remembered that morning. She wished she had stayed with him. She wished she had hugged him for the last time, at least. If only she had known about the attack, she would have run away with him into the woods, never to lose him.


    But then, Irema whispered in her ear:


    ¡°Alana... What did the Elder mean?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°He said something about Ares,¡± Irema muttered.


    ¡°The legend. You know the legend. Don''t you?¡± Alana whispered in her ear,


    ¡°I don''t know about that. Mother didn¡¯t tell me much about the God of War...¡±


    Alana cleared her throat. Her glance was fixed on the rocky road and the feet that moved with hers toward who knew where.


    ¡°Irema. It is a legend, like those they used to tell little children. But you know, it''s true; and we all know it''s true.¡±


    ¡°Cut to the chase, Alana. What is it about?¡±


    ¡°It''s about Ares, the God of War. He fought the giants of the Earth and led our people in battle against them.¡±


    ¡°Giants?¡±


    ¡°Yes, giants of iron and stone, of clay and dragon bones. They were ancient gods who were cursed for betraying their father Saturn.¡±


    ¡°And...¡±


    ¡°The Red Sun of Ares shone over our land, back then, bursting open from his Mother, the Morning Star. Its light was red, like fire, and he commanded a legion of incandescent warriors. They came down from heaven, like falling stars. Then... They fought the giants, dropping fireballs from above. Ares himself, he battled them until he locked them with the strength of his arm, and locked them in the earth, along with the sword he wielded. The Sword of Ares.¡±


    ¡°So... He says the sword will appear?¡±


    ¡°Legend has it that when the Sons of Ares are again threatened, and the balance of the world is dangling from a string, the Sword of Ares will be wielded by a great hero; who will in turn battle the giants again and lock them back in the earth once again. Well, it is strange that Elder Aranus talked about it. I think he just means we should keep our hopes up.¡±


    ¡°But why was he with the soldiers?¡±


    ¡°Irema. It''s obvious. They are forcing him to make us bend. You know everybody likes Aranus the Elder. He''s a good old man. They want to use him to legitimize what they''ve done to us.¡±


    ¡°But! What do you think he''ll do?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. By Ares. We should really talk to somebody.¡±


    Irema sighed.


    ¡°Who? Alana. It¡¯s all lost. What can we do? We can only die. Or...¡± Irema lifted her head again. ¡°Alana... Do you think the legends are true?¡±


    ¡°They are real. But¡­ I don¡¯t know when it will appear. But you know what Father said?¡±


    ¡°What... What did he say?¡±


    ¡°He said that we are the ones who make the legends real. The gods don''t go around writing, you know? Like Itruschian or Helenish plays. They don''t go around making us say things. I mean, maybe they make us out of matter. Like... Father said I am made of red matter, plus some luminous yellow Jovian energy, that means I am a bit rash, you know? And...¡±


    ¡°Will you two freaks shut your nasty mouths?¡± shouted one of the soldiers; a young, fat man with a missing tooth. ¡°You wenches are indeed strange. I can''t keep up with your verbose tirades.¡±


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    Alana frowned, she was about to yell an expletive, but Irema grabbed her by the arm.


    ¡°Calm down,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°By Jupiter,¡± the soldier growled. ¡°You are just like a man. But don¡¯t worry. Whoever gets you will teach you how to behave.¡±


    Alana rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him, Alana,¡± Irema whispered to her.


    ¡°What does he mean, get me?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow. ¡°You. Fat scum. What do you mean, get me?¡± she addressed the soldier.


    ¡°I''m telling you. You''d better do what the little priest said. Do your homework. Behave yourself, or things might get ugly. We¡¯ll be giving you a chance.¡±


    ¡°You keep your stupid threats in your pocket,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Ala, please, stop,¡± Irema insisted.


    The soldier walked toward her, grasping the handle of his sword. He unsheathed, pointing the shining blade at them.


    ¡°Now, shut it or things will get worse.¡±


    Alana clenched her teeth.


    Irema whispered.


    ¡°Alana. Just... Wait...¡±


    Irema was right. She had to wait, and then, she would have her way and set things right again. Alana sighed, looking away from the man.


    ¡°I like that. Obedient, huh?¡± the fat soldier laughed.


    Alana contained the boiling rage. She shook her head and kept marching. They were already out of the rocky path and walked downhill into the forest. They saw the barracks up for the foot soldiers where Atila would have trained. Now, the position was completely deserted.


    ¡°Why the barracks?¡± Alana asked, but nobody answered.


    ¡°I just don''t know what''s going to happen, I can only think the worst,¡± Irema said.


    ¡°What is the worst?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Losing my freedom. Losing the ownership I have on myself. On my future,¡± Irema said with a sigh. ¡°What should we do?¡±


    ¡°Pray for that sword to show up and...¡± Her thought process was cut short. What could she do to make the legends real?


    They walked into the dark wooden building. Its walls were made of round logs. The women were filling up the house, pressing against each other.


    ¡°Look!¡± Irema said, pointing at someone in the crowd. ¡°It¡¯s Gitara!¡±


    Gitara heard and turned sharply. Her face was red with tears.


    She pushed through the crowd and ran to hug Irema. ¡°By Venus and Ares... It''s so good to see you.¡±


    ¡°Gitara, how are you doing? Did they hurt you?¡±


    ¡°They did not. Oh my...¡±


    ¡°What did they...¡±


    ¡°I don''t know what they''re going to do now. My man is in the North. I hope they haven''t attacked him as well. By the gods, I can only wish.¡±


    ¡°Oh, love. I hope, I really hope nothing happens to them.¡±


    The remaining soldiers entered and positioned themselves next to the walls, their weapons uncovered, and the crowd started to push against each other, gathering in the centre of the building.


    The centurion was the last one to enter. He yelled in order to get everyone''s attention.


    ¡°Silence!¡±


    The chatting and murmuring stopped, but the wailing and weeping that echoed did not.


    ¡°Silence! Quit the sobbing or we''ll silence you ourselves.¡±


    And no sound was heard. Alana clenched her fists.


    ¡°Women of Adachia,¡± the centurion said. ¡°The men in whose company you found yourselves, who you used to call husband or father, have collectively been found guilty of plot and treason against this great and noble Empire.¡±


    Alana looked at her friends, frowning.


    ¡°What is that son of a hog talking about?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°And thus,¡± he continued. ¡°With great sorrow we had been ordered to dismantle the rebellion. We have done justice on the men who followed the Mysteries of Ares, and protected civilization and the Empire.¡±


    ¡°Liar. The soldier said they would not leave any man alive to tell tales!¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Liar!¡± The voices of the women rose like a choir of discontent.


    ¡°Murderers.¡±


    The centurion frowned and yelled:


    ¡°Now, you quit your bickering, or we will call treason and do the same to you.¡±


    ¡°Not true!¡± Gitara screamed. ¡°Our husbands, the very children of the men you killed, serve the Empire with dedication. My husband is now a legionnaire like yourself. Where is this plot you talk about? It''s not true at all.¡±


    ¡°The orders of the governor are strict, and so is the evidence. Now, as for your future...!¡±


    ¡°Liar, murderer!¡± The women kept chanting, as many of them rushed to the walls, grabbing the soldiers'' wrists as they were about to kill.


    A sturdy matron lunged on the centurion and threw him to the ground.


    Alana cheered, rushing into the wall as well, as the women kicked the soldiers, venting out all the anger for what they had suffered in the day. Alana could see the rage in their eyes, some had fought against Itruschian soldiers back in the day. Alana¡¯s hope went through the roof as one of them snatched the sword and stabbed the soldier in the belly.


    A whistle was heard coming from the centurion''s mouth, and a shadow stood over the door. Dark figures emerged from the door carrying square red shields almost the size of their bodies and long diamond shaped swords and maces hanging from their leather belts. They rushed in, their swords drawn. Alana shook her head and her hope suddenly vanished. They stepped in waving their blades at the women¡¯s unarmed bodies, some lifted up their arms to protect themselves, and the blood sprawled on the walls and skins. Alana let out a scream.


    The warlike women warriors of old did not yield as quickly, as many tried to reach for the swords and canes, but the soldier¡¯s swords were swift and merciless. Alana shut her eyes. The battle could not be won. Screams pierced through the air. The crowd pushed against the centre again, protecting each other from the swords, which continued to wound unarmed women until the centurion commanded them to stop.


    ¡°Murderer!¡± the centurion screamed. ¡°Who did that!¡± He pointed at the dead body that lay against the building. Other soldiers stared with blank eyes. One of them pushed through the women and knelt down next to the dead soldier.


    Alana looked around. Another soldier pointed at a woman with dark hair.


    ¡°She did it. I saw her!¡± the soldier yelled.


    ¡°You murderers, you will see!¡± the woman said, her chin up, as two soldiers ran to grab her by the wrists.


    ¡°Take her outside and put her on the rack,¡± the centurion ordered.


    ¡°Should we¡­.¡± a soldier asked.


    ¡°Kill her at the end,¡± the centurion said.


    Alana felt rage burn in her soul again.


    ¡°Listen to me!¡± The centurion raised his hands. Now, there was silence. ¡°Do you prefer to die out as a race? Listen to me. We have spared you all for a reason. We have a plan for you. If you provoke us a single time more, I will make sure to eradicate your race from the face of the earth. Listen!¡± The centurion stood up. Blood stained his lower lip. ¡°If I see any of you making a scene, I¡¯ll make sure I hang you like pigs. We are giving you all a chance. If you do not comply, like the old priest says, you¡¯ll get whipped until you cannot walk any more or endure your last night on earth on the rack.¡±


    ¡°Now, to the plan,¡± he continued. ¡°Our soldiers will take care of you. The ones who are not wid... I mean, the ones whose husbands are not away for war will be taken care of by members of the legion who are currently single. Given in marriage to the best of them so you can be cared for, and your legacy to be preserved.¡±


    ¡°Better kill us!¡± one of the sisters said out.


    ¡°What the devil? This is madness. Uh, disgusting.¡± Irema lowered her head, her face pale with all she had just seen.


    Fear and disgust filled Alana¡¯s bosom. And silently, she prayed to Ares for deliverance.

 Chapter IX - Sons of Pain

    Cladius walked out of the marble theatre, shuddering. He rested his head against a painted pillar, his curly hair brushing against it. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned swiftly and found Larius smiling at him, revealing three golden teeth among the yellow ones.


    ¡°Cladius, pal. What did you think of my speech?¡±


    Cladius took a deep breath. ¡°Well you did sound like you¡¯re full of conviction.¡±


    ¡°I am glad you liked it. I was thinking of you.¡±


    ¡°Were you? Why is that?¡± Cladius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I need your help and advice,¡± Larius narrowed his one eyed and smiled. Cladius cleared his throat.


    ¡°My advice? You massacred an entire town. You¡¯ll empty the province you¡¯re in charge of. An entire race for goodness¡¯ sake! You knew I did not agree.¡± He felt guilty for not telling anyone. Well, what good would it do to let anyone know, it had been too late. ¡°And what about that spurious idea about a conspiracy? Where did you get that from?¡±


    ¡°Cladius. Why do you doubt my words? We did our research and uncovered the plot. Do you want more people in our glorious Capital to die under the hand of those... those savages?¡±


    ¡°And what evidence did you have? Only your word. And even if what you say is true, that Larius was not honourable. You could have checked on them, observed them closely, infiltrated the meetings.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re a traitor as well.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cladius turned. ¡°Of course not. I just wish to defend the dignity of this Empire. It is called Sacred for a reason, and it is that we respect the will of the gods. And the gods long for peace and order.¡±


    ¡°It is for peace and order that I have carried this out, old friend,¡± Larius chuckled.


    ¡°And now you did it.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Just one thing.¡±


    ¡°What...¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t cause trouble.¡±


    Cladius clenched his teeth.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I knew of your projects. I knew you had communication with the Artisan Guild, and that they had some ulterior motive behind.¡±


    Cladius took a deep breath.


    Larius continued.


    ¡°I know you wanted their support for your own campaign next summer. And lo and behold. They are gone now. Your base for Consul is gone forever.¡±


    Cladius swallowed. He had been outplayed.


    ¡°So now, desist, brother; as the gods have chosen me to carry out this duty; and their favour is shining on me to protect this land.¡±


    Cladius breathed deeply.


    ¡°And I will keep honouring my duty to this Empire, while traitors like you rot and die. Unless you join me. I am giving you a chance, Cladius Julianus Duodecimus. Do not stick your nose in here, for you will be gone if you don''t do this. I am a civilized man. I''ll give you the chance to help me, or else you will be gone like your stinking bear-men. I will have you working by my side if there is to be peace between us.¡±


    Cladius lifted his chin.


    ¡°I...¡±


    ¡°I trust in your good judgment,¡± Larius said, turning his back on him. He turned once again. ¡°And, no hard feeling between us. I¡¯ll let you know when I have something for you.¡±


    Cladius released the tension on his body and shook his head. Yes. His plans to run for office as a Consul had been thwarted. He had thought of the Gadalian artisans as easy targets to root for him if he kept promoting their products, but now; an alliance with the Western ones would be difficult.


    He looked at Larius, who strode toward the exit, as senators greeted him like a hero. Cladius then walked back to the now empty theatre, he took a deep breath and peeked, stared at the place where the half-breed patrician had died. The blood was still there, but his body had been taken out as a nuisance; and a testimony to Larius¡¯ research.


    There was someone who could help him. He scanned through the crowd. Who he was looking for looked exactly like everyone else in there, with a long white robe and white hair and a long cane.


    ¡°Senator Walpatinus. Senator!¡± he called, pointing at the man, who looked back. Cladius noticed his downcast face. He stared at him, waiting for him to approach.


    ¡°What is it Cladius?¡± the old man asked.


    ¡°Did you hear Larius¡¯ speech?¡±


    ¡°I am not deaf, Senator Cladius.¡±


    ¡°What do you make of that?¡±


    The old man took a deep breath.


    ¡°Well. Larius screwed those horse people over.¡± He laughed with a decrepit smile. ¡°No more gold armours for us. They were too expensive anyway.¡±


    ¡°Sir, you don''t even know half of it. He told me this morning. But I have been working with people from the province where it happened. Believe me, there was no evidence for the conspiracy he talked about.¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Well. What good does it make? You found out too late. Like us.¡±


    ¡°You don''t understand. It was all a lie. I had contact in the countryside, in his province, and no word of such a conspiracy ever came to us.¡±


    ¡°Well that is obvious.¡±


    ¡°And? You can''t do anything?¡±


    ¡°What can we do? The matter is resolved.¡±


    ¡°No. It is not. First, this represents the destruction of a people. It is a crime, Senator Walpatinus. It is...¡±


    The old man stared at him, slightly raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°And what do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°Sir. A crime has been committed. It has to be proven somehow.¡±


    ¡°Well.¡± Walpatinus looked from side to side, then lowered his voice. ¡°If you want to do something about it, let''s try. Meet me at my home tomorrow evening. We will discuss.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I knew your desire for justice could be trusted.¡±


    He seemed pleased with Cladius'' words. And that was the only help he could get in there. He knew of only two other people who knew what was happening and who managed his dealings in the Eastern provinces.


    ***


    Tiranus Apolus could be found at a decadent tavern during most of the day. And there, he was sitting, his short hair more dishevelled than usual, with two women under his arms.


    ¡°Tiranus,¡± Cladius called.


    The merchant turned around with a smile and dimples appearing on his pale face.


    ¡°Cladius! What brings you here!¡± Tiranus exclaimed. He turned completely. His chest was exposed, shaven. His face was statuesque, quite handsome, and with dimples on each side.


    ¡°Tiranus.¡± Cladius shook his head worriedly. ¡°You won''t believe what just happened in the East.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± He dropped his hands to his knees and quietly dismissed the girls. ¡°Did someone else give them a better offer? Calm down, Cladius. Just tell me, how much do we need.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need any money. It¡¯s Larius.¡±


    ¡°Did he bribe them? Come on...¡±


    ¡°Listen to me. Larius sent a Legion to the east and massacred all the men in four Gadalian villages.¡±


    ¡°Come on! Don''t play around like that, Cladius. It''s not funny.¡±


    ¡°No, it is not funny. This bastard did it!¡±


    ¡°He did what?¡±


    ¡°He slaughtered entire villages. Killed hundreds of men. Innocent men.¡±


    Tiranus snapped his fingers, and an Irelandic slave rushed from the other side of the room, carrying a coat made of fox fur. He wrapped it around Tiranus'' shoulders.


    ¡°Now that,¡± he lifted his finger, pointing at the wind. ¡°That is the work of a sick bastard.¡±


    ¡°Oh, indeed.¡±


    ¡°And now.¡± He scratched his chin. ¡°That''s too bad... But you know, it''s been good investing with you, but... Come on, boy, give me a good offer. Show me what you have in mind, and we''ll find something else.¡±


    ¡°Tiranus. I don''t care about the campaign and the financing anymore.¡±


    ¡°How so? Mate, you''ve been fighting so hard for this.¡±


    ¡°No. You know. I never even dealt with those people personally. Never saw them. But... It makes my blood boil. Everything I have has been produced by their damned hands blessed by the gods. By Apollos. Not so much by Ares, though. But... I am sorry.¡±


    ¡°My friend, Cladius. My friend.¡± Tiranus placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Why worry so much? They are barbarians.¡±


    ¡°Barbarians? Who cares if they''re barbarians or not? What if one day you don''t come back to your wife. What will she think? What if someone were to kill you in front of her?¡±


    ¡°Boy, she''d be glad.¡± He took a sip of wine.


    ¡°Tiranus. Are you hearing me correctly?¡±


    ¡°I mean. That''s what she says every day.¡±


    ¡°No...¡±


    ¡°Marriage is not for love. Who said that? You''ve been watching too many plays.¡±


    ¡°You don''t know.¡±


    ¡°Marriage is just to bring little brats into the world and then bring more and have a good name. Pleasure is for... Places like this, you know. Where we can enjoy with no restraints, no constraints.¡±


    ¡°Tiranus...¡± Cladius shook his head.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Tiranus put his hands on his waist. ¡°Come on, shoot.¡±


    ¡°I feel sickened by what happened. Yes, I feel like my plans have been thwarted, but it is also a treason against someone who trusted us. Not only a man, an entire people.¡±


    Tiranus snapped his fingers again, and a slave walked in through the mauve curtains.


    ¡°Give this old dog a good glass of distilled wine with Mithraic mushrooms,¡± Tiranus said, a perfect smile on his face.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the slave responded with a voice as deep as a gorge. He rushed to bring a clay vase with a peculiar design; an explicit scene involving the god of wine and an unnamed character. Cladius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Come on, sit,¡± Tiranus said, dropping back on the old seat of padded cement, one arm on the armrest. He examined Cladius from head to toe. ¡°You, old pal, you never went to the army, did you?¡±


    ¡°I did not.¡±


    ¡°But you sure did a good job moving upward. Even with a good family, it¡¯s not easy these days. You''re a Senator.¡±


    ¡°Yes. I married well. Lukrezia is a good wife.¡±


    ¡°Good. Good. So... Don''t worry about some nasty barbarians.¡±


    ¡°Tiranus. They are people like us.¡±


    ¡°Cladius! By Bacchus! They live in shacks!¡± He made a mocking gesture. ¡°And before they came here I heard they did not even have houses. They only had horses. Ah, they say they had this weird umbrella thing.¡± He started laughing loudly. ¡°Yes. So, they didn''t even have houses. They just rode around under their umbrellas, like enlightened monkey-men.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care if they lived under the sea. I don¡¯t even give a rat¡¯s tail about the merchandise, nor the contracts. I think about the honor of this very Empire. How come it has gone mad? How can the bastion and guide of nations be the one that decimates them from the earth?¡±


    ¡°Well, there must be a reason,¡± Tiranus muttered and drank a mouthful.


    ¡°Larius thinks they are a nuisance. Or rather, he¡¯s still wild about the siege that happened fifteen years ago. That¡¯s the reason. And¡­ He knew about our dealings. You know. When that legion finds out¡­!¡±


    ¡°What do you want, Cladius? I¡¯ve been asking you since you came, and you keep rambling.¡± He lifted his hand up to his head and shook it.


    ¡°I want to prove the men he killed were innocent, and deal with Larius as he deserves.¡±


    ¡°Is that all?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want the consulate anymore. Well, I actually want it. But not for my own glory! I want to preserve order and lawfulness before the whole Empire comes crumbling.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what you need. What are you planning to do?¡±


    ¡°I know what I have to do. I need to prove that he is lying. I need to punish him, as his deeds are murderous. He has slaughtered hosts of the Empire. The law clearly states that it is a crime.¡±


    ¡°Now. Speak now. How do you prove it?¡±


    ¡°Investigate. Tiranus, get the men who dealt with the Gadalians. I will go with them to the East.¡±

 Chapter X - Warbrides

    That night, Alana tried to sleep by resting her head and shoulders over the other captives. She did not sleep. Instead, she sobbed and look around, almost paralyzed with fear; and the women and children around her seemed to feel the same way. A few babies cried, annoying the already fatigued soldiers, and Alana could only tremble in fear, thinking of the worst possible outcome. Luckily, no one else got hurt that night, but their wailing was routinely threatened by the armed soldiers.


    When the morning broke, they marched out into the cold forest. Alana felt exhausted and her stomach roared like an angry wolf. They gathered in a forest clearing where the soldiers had set a platform of wood. They stood with their lances around the crowd, ever threatening. Alana saw the one who had killed Badratz, and the soldier who had chased Tor through the streets. She hid her glance from them.


    The centurion climbed the platform and shouted:


    ¡°Listen to me! We will separate you according to the last census. I have the numbers from the local registry. We have counted seven hundred and seven women who are not married. You will be assigned to a soldier, and so will your children. Nothing to worry about, these soldiers have been selected for you.¡±


    Irema wept next to Alana. She hugged her.


    ¡°Promise me you will never give up, Alana,¡± Irema said.


    ¡°I will not, Irema.¡±


    Alana felt as if the world on which she had lived and dreamed had already come to an end. And all the dreams she had built for herself were now being eroded and turned into dust. What could she build up from that dust? For an instant, she thought life was not worth living, and that beyond that realm of physical matter, Father had to be somewhere. Even Atila, with whom...


    Whom...


    Why would the goddesses of fate do something like that to her?


    Why? He could have been with her forever. Irema could have been with Karus. Why had life become worse than death?


    Was there a way to bring them back to life? Was there a way to turn back time?


    Father, are you there? Can you hear me?


    She shut her eyes for a second, and instantly, the wind shook the leaves above her. A handful of them fell to the ground, red like the Sun of Ares.


    The centurion started calling names. At first, no one responded, pretending not to be there, or fearful not to break the vows they had already made.


    Alana worried for Gitara, pregnant and married to a Gadalian Legionnaire far away. She looked around and did not see her. Then, Irema told her Gitara had been separated from the group before. The soldiers or whoever was giving the orders had not decided what to do about the women that had married legionnaires.


    After continuous threats, the women started to step out and be given, like child sacrifices to a wicked idol.


    Then, Irema was called. She clung to Alana, weeping. Alana looked into her eyes. her brown hair was unruly, and her round face was stained by dirt and coagulated blood, so was the knitted dress that covered her.


    ¡°No!¡± Irema said with all her soul. Alana wished she could stop it. One thing was losing her dreams and the man she loved, another was being given to a soldier, an entity she now hated. A cruel inversion of her hopes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t take her!¡± Alana said, holding her friend in her arms. Two soldiers quickly intervened and pushed them apart. They grabbed her by the arms and Alana watched helplessly as Irema was given to a tall and muscular soldier. On the platform, an Itruschian lawyer pronounced them as husband and wife. That was not a ceremony. They did not even ask for her approval.


    Irema looked back at Alana, her eyes open wide, and her figure faded and was carried away into the forest.


    Alana clenched her fists until she felt blood coming out of her palms. Righteous anger burned in her soul. Her mind raced, thinking of vengeance. Or rather, justice.


    Against whom?


    Yes, all those soldiers deserved a punishment. But who had been the mastermind of such a terrible massacre? Who would have thought of that, and to what purpose?


    Alana looked around.


    Names were called, lives were turned around before her face.


    And suddenly, she heard her name.


    Alana of Adachia.


    For an instant, she hesitated. She pretended not to be there.


    ¡°Alana daughter of Alan the artisan.¡±


    ¡°Alana...¡±


    She blinked, her heart pounding.


    ¡°Another rebel, huh?¡± The centurion chuckled.


    Suddenly, a soldier pulled a random woman from the crowd, holding her with a sword to her back.


    Alana could not bear it and stepped forward.


    ¡°It''s me!¡± she yelled.


    ¡°Your cowardice almost cost the life of one of your sisters,¡± the centurion said coldly. ¡°Be more careful next time.¡±


    Alana rolled her eyes.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The lawyer checked the other side of the list.


    ¡°Procurator Tiberius, that is the one.¡± A rugged voice was heard, belonging to Walerius, the soldier who had threatened Tor earlier. The lawyer, Tiberius, looked at the soldier and narrowed his eyes. Then, he turned to her, as if a previous agreement had been made.


    ¡°I have heard about you. Huh. Different from what the reports say. Alright. You will go with Walerius Octavius.¡±


    Alana lowered her head. Her blonde locks covered her view as she stepped forward. Walerius was standing there, arms crossed.


    She could feel nothing but resent.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± he muttered.


    She sighed and clenched her teeth.


    ¡°Come on!¡± he grabbed her hand, and she pulled it away quickly. Walerius reacted by pulling his hand back to slap her. Alana had hit him in the head earlier. Nothing could be a worse prelude. He was surely planning a long and cruel revenge on her. ¡°I don''t have all day,¡± he said, lowering his hand.


    Alana sighed. There was nothing left to do but plan for her escape.


    She finally nodded and followed the man up into the woods. She turned back, and the pale, dusty faces of the women and toddlers seemed like abandoning her family. Like dying and taking a final look from a casket about to be interred.


    ¡°Don''t try to run away or you¡¯ll get killed,¡± Walerius said when only the trees could hear them.


    Dying would be a bad idea. There would be no way to plan.


    ¡°I did not kill the mute boy, as you saw,¡± Walerius said, as if that could justify him.


    ¡°Good. But how many did you kill?¡±


    Walerius turned to her. He was an old man, maybe around forty. A big scar crossed his smallpox-beaten face. Not a nice sight. The worst husband she could wish for. Really? She had prayed for months to get a nice one like Atila.


    ¡°And where are we going?¡± she asked anxiously.


    ¡°It seems like you don''t have a house anymore, do you?¡±


    ¡°I do have a house!¡± Alana said, eyes wide open. There, she could find her father''s weapons and make an escape. ¡°It''s the forge on the hilltop!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an important post. It¡¯s not yours anymore.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean it''s not mine?¡±


    ¡°We need production. We¡¯re moving an advanced apprentice there and a few slaves.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She opened her eyes wide.


    ¡°Indeed. So do not worry about it.¡±


    ¡°You are liars, thieves, cowards, and murderers. May the gods curse your wicked Empire of evil.¡±


    ¡°You do keep talking.¡± He smiled.


    The monster smiled.


    Oh, please; Ares, Venus, whoever is listening, get me the heck out of here.


    ¡°So¡­ Tell me about yourself,¡± Walerius asked.


    ¡°Do you think this is funny? You killed my people and now you want me to open up?¡±


    ¡°I was only doing my job!¡± he said.


    Alana clenched her fists.


    ¡°Now, tell me,¡± he insisted. ¡°Now we are married, so you better forget all that rubbish and welcome your new life.¡±


    She kept the tears from flowing and refused to speak.


    Or should she? How could she prepare better? Yes. Patience. That was all she needed.


    The soldiers had set up camp on the other side of the river. There, as the sun was setting, Walerius said, not being asked, that most other girls got to keep their houses, so the soldiers were expected to be in the bed of their wives¡¯ former husbands or fathers.


    The tents were wide, made to serve as a place for about ten soldiers each, with their small beds, separated by curtains. Alana followed Walerius into the messy tent and through cheap curtains. There was nobody, and the living space between curtains was small. He entered first, sat on the mattress, and removed his sword. Alana sat on her haunches in the corner, the hood of her cloak covering her eyes and hair.


    ¡°We are lucky the mission required few men, and they all have places to stay; if not, the camps would have been crowded. Take off your cloak, at least.¡±


    ¡°I''m cold,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said, as the armour clanked on the ground. Alana fixed her eyes on small figures that stood on a makeshift table. Small wooden figurines, common in ancestor worship. One represented a woman with black hair. The other two were young boys.


    ¡°Is that your wife?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Was,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Alana cleared her throat.


    He sighed.


    ¡°Come here. Take off your cloak.¡±


    Alana rolled her eyes. But she agreed. She shivered lightly.


    ¡°By Apollo, your arms are so thin. They''re like toothpicks.¡±


    She did not make eye contact.


    ¡°How old are you?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Fifteen.¡±


    Walerius stood up slowly.


    ¡°My gods, you''re still a child.¡±


    She looked up.


    ¡°And were you married?¡± Walerius asked, with slight disgust in his face.


    And then, Alana''s eyes opened widely. She cleared her throat and sighed.


    Better to try that old trick than end up tied to that old guy''s bed for the rest of her life.


    ¡°I was,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Too bad. I guess you are sad, but now, believe me; life will be much better for you. Whenever I finish my service, I will get a farm for myself.¡±


    ¡°I had a farm with my father... And my husband has one too.¡±


    ¡°Your husband?¡± Walerius chuckled. ¡°Stop joking. A piece of land and a few goats is not land. I am talking about a big farm, with slaves to make your bed, to pick up the napkins you drop. One day. When you''re ready you''ll have my children, and we¡¯ll build a good family.¡±


    Alana did not see the body of her friend Kassius. He was probably still alive.


    ¡°I am telling you I am married,¡± she insisted.


    ¡°Darling. Your man is dead,¡± he said, pulling up an old broken mirror. He set it on the table and took out his own knife and a small vase of water on the side. It smelled bad. He shaved slowly, staring at his sideburns. ¡°I am sorry, but your marriage to a barbarian does not count. Now, our life will...¡±


    ¡°Who said I was married to a barbarian? I was married to a citizen!¡±


    Walerius paused. He narrowed his eyes, then, suddenly, he chuckled again.


    ¡°What are you saying? That''s impossible.¡±


    ¡°It is true,¡± she said. ¡°My husband has a farm. Well, he''s a half-breed, in fact, but his father is a General who married a Gadalian woman.¡±


    Walerius sat on the mattress. His expression had changed into fear and awe.


    ¡°But then...¡±


    ¡°Yes. We just got married last month. My father was waiting for me, he wanted his father to come for the main ceremony.¡±


    ¡°It must have been written somewhere,¡± Walerius shook his ugly head.


    ¡°We do not keep written records. You have our names from the last census. And it''s been more than three months since the last one.¡±


    Walerius put his hands over his head.


    ¡°No way,¡± He started laughing angrily, then jumped to his feet.


    He was panting. He clenched his fists and violently kicked the wooden table. Alana covered her face in fear. Walerius turned to her, frowning, and his scars made him look more frightening than ever.

 Chapter XI - A New Beginning

    ¡°Are you out of your mind?¡± Lukrezia held little Lenna in one arm while she dusted the pantry with the other, her fiery eyes fixed on her husband.


    ¡°My love, it is my duty,¡± Cladius said.


    She looked away, frowning. Her pumpkin-coloured hair was messy. It always was.


    ¡°What do you think this is? Do you think it¡¯s just a joke, for me to wait for you like a little teenage wobbling virgin who doesn¡¯t know about life while the husband is having his way with prostitutes?¡±


    ¡°Lukrezia! How can you say that! How can you? In front of the children! I haven¡¯t even done any of that, ever!¡±


    ¡°Do you want to die? Do you know why I married you? Because I was tired of seeing widowed women. One third of the women I know are widows. I had to find a man who would not leave me. I should have known, it was just about the timing.¡±


    He took a deep breath. The words were harsh, but he knew she loved him, no matter what was coming out of her mouth.


    ¡°Love, I am just going away for a few weeks. It is not the end of the world.¡±


    ¡°A few weeks? Didn¡¯t you say the man killed the whole tribe and is blackmailing you? He is going to kill you! He is going to turn me into a widow. You are!¡±


    ¡°Lukrezia, please.¡± Cladius lowered his voice. As if it could help.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let you go! And if you go! I¡¯ll go with you. I¡¯ll follow you to the damned forest or pack myself in your bag.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Alright, love, let me just go and meet the Senator today.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t step out of the city. You won¡¯t go anywhere without me knowing.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said, putting on a fur coat. The commotion had brought two of his other children to the atrium. Lana was staring from behind a pillar, her black eyes opened wide and worry in her expression. His eldest son Heracles, with his curly black hair and hazel eyes, also stared from there. Both had dark skin like him, and luckily did not have their mother¡¯s personality. Cladius could see the worry in their eyes. Their mother¡¯s cries made it even more dramatic.


    Lukrezia had finally stopped. There was silence. The servants cleared up the dining table without saying a word to each other behind the wide windows.


    ¡°Is it true you¡¯re leaving, Daddy?¡± Lana asked. Her big eyes were moist.


    Cladius sighed.


    ¡°Lani, I don¡¯t know yet.¡±


    His wife¡¯s voice scratched the air around him:


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna leave your children alone! You don¡¯t even know if you¡¯re gonna come back.¡±


    ¡°Lukrezia. Please. I¡¯m just going out for dinner.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡± Lana said.


    ¡°Please,¡± Cladius shook his head. ¡°It will be alright.¡±


    Lana ran toward him and embraced him. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to go.¡±


    ¡°Lana I¡¯m just going for dinner. I¡¯ll be back in a few hours.¡±


    ¡°Mum says you may never come back.¡±


    ¡°Darling, I¡¯m just thinking of going to Tharcia. And if I ever do, it will be safe.¡± Cladius thought of all his military friends who had to routinely bid farewell to their families. Had he spoiled them with his constant presence? How could he even get them to marry?


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be alright.¡± Cladius patted on her hair. He took a deep breath.


    Lukrezia¡¯s defiant glance was still fixed like a nail on a door frame. And even then, she was holding out the emotion. Cladius walked away. He had learned to put it all away just to let the house¡¯s tension evapourate in the wind.


    The rocky street in the city centre awaited him with the usual evening traffic of chariots, horses, and people pushing through. From there, he could see the huge aqueduct of stone and the highest temples and monuments that stood like square hills of red and beige. The buildings towered with roofs of red tiles and painted pillars. He walked as fast as he could with his deformed leg.


    Walpatinus¡¯ house was closer to the temple of Jupiter, an unmistakable behemoth of architecture. His neighborhood was always neat and clean, as it was expected of a patrician residential area.


    He crossed on the second intersection, into a tight diagonal street that could shorten the path. It was silent, and as the sun was in its latest hours, just a glimpse of red sky could be seen from the ascending hill. No one else was walking by, and there was nothing to fear.


    That he thought until a carriage rode slowly next to him, with two beautiful white horses with trimmed manes and golden plates covering their muscular chests. Cladius couldn¡¯t help turning toward the carriage. Its wooden frame had a big opening where elaborate curtains covered an open window. Inside, he caught a glimpse of a middle-aged man with an eye patch, next to a much younger woman with long black hair, a pale face, and a beautiful complexion.


    Cladius paled the instant he recognized the man. Larius¡¯ face slowly turned toward him, as if acknowledging his presence. The carriage continued its march.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Cladius stood there, confused. No. Why should he worry? It had to be a coincidence, nothing else. He slowed down his pace.


    The carriage continued its way and turned left at the corner. Cladius continued slowly, expecting to turn when the carriage was already gone.


    He panted a bit, as the street had become steep. When he finally got to the corner, he noticed the carriage had stopped, and a figure with brown hair was down. Cladius quickly went back to his corner and stood behind the wall. No, he should not worry that much, maybe Larius just wanted to say hi or be intimidating, but there was no real danger. Or was it?


    He stepped backwards, turned, and ran down the street. Maybe he should take the longer route. He panted as his heart rate went up and heard the rolling of wheels behind him. He turned his head and saw the carriage advancing toward him. The harsh rocky path pounded against his feet, especially the deformed one.


    The chariot moved forward, surely capable of catching him. Especially in that dark alley, whatever they wanted, they were up to no good. Cladius did not want to get threatened nor interrogated by those thugs. But his small foot was a hindrance, it had always been. He cursed as he limped and collapsed to the ground.


    The chariot went on and stopped next to him. Cladius cursed again. The curtains opened and Larius stepped out, jumping down and wiping the dust from his tunic.


    ¡°Senator Cladius, did we scare you? It¡¯s just us.¡±


    Cladius¡¯ face was still pressed against the cold flat rocks. Larius offered him a hand.


    ¡°Oh. It was you. Good to see you,¡± Cladius muttered, grabbing the hand and standing up. He panted.


    ¡°I apologize,¡± Larius said.


    ¡°No worries.¡± Cladius wiped off his tunic. The fur coat had protected him from bruises and scars. That would be distasteful for a meeting with Walpatinus. ¡°I thought I was going to get mugged.¡±


    ¡°When have you seen a mugger in a chariot with golden curtains?¡±


    ¡°Big rats are the worst, you know,¡± Cladius said, massaging his own back.


    ¡°So, Cladius? Where were you going? Should we give you a ride?¡±


    ¡°Not necessary.¡± He scratched own his curly hair. ¡°I was just walking around.¡±


    ¡°Come on. Aren¡¯t we comrades? I tell you everything. Oh. Where are my manners? I¡¯m an old barbarian, as you see. Let me introduce you to my good friend Helena.¡± Larius turned toward the carriage and pointed at the window. ¡°Helena, darling, come down.¡±


    The woman¡¯s face emerged from the chariot, her hair perfectly combed and long, probably down to her hips. Her pale face had a perfect contrast of dark make-up around her eyes and lips red as blood. She smiled coyly.


    ¡°I won¡¯t go down, Las, this might get my dress dirty.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be rude.¡± Larius narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°Tell him to come up, Las,¡± the woman said.


    ¡°Now you stop acting like a child or I¡¯ll teach you a good lesson,¡± Larius said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to get my dress all dirty.¡±


    ¡°Come on. Don¡¯t be foolish.¡±


    He turned toward Cladius. ¡°You know how these women are. So, Senator. I insist. Come in. Let all our differences be forgotten. Alright?¡± he said, patting his shoulder.


    ¡°I understand that, Larius. And I thank you, mister, but I prefer to be alone.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Fine!¡± Larius said, letting go of him, and climbing back into the chariot. ¡°Have a good day and see you again.¡± Larius smiled with his pale lips, and the driver whipped the horses; the carriage started rolling again.


    Cladius sighed, relieved, and he walked back up. He realized he had hurt his knee, and his pace became slower.


    He was left wondering what Larius wanted. Was it just intimidation? Who knew. Anyway, he¡¯d be better off if no one knew what he was up to. If he was to leave the country, he had to do so immediately. There was a chance that Larius was going back to Tharcia. That was, however, a huge province, so the risk of meeting him was probably low.


    Cladius walked slowly through the ever higher streets, as the temple of Jupiter¡¯s magnificence could even be felt in the air. It towered like a massive canyon of marble and beauty, with golden eagles towering over the ceiling and pillars of almost five feet in diameter. Myriad salesmen stood next to endless stalls of incense sticks, others next to pigs and fowl crammed in wooden cages. The smells were not pleasant. As he passed by the temple, he could see the magnificent statue inside, barely covered by velvet curtains so high they could only adorn the windows of giants. There, beyond a long crimson carpet, sat the great King, the master of Thunder, his naked torso painted and life-like. The men and women that passed by the statue looked like mere mice under a power-god. His throne may have been pure gold. A great fire and a million candles lightened the inside with golden light.


    As he passed by, he called the god in his own mind, and begged the master of laws and of the lightning bolt of justice to protect him. After all, his cause was just.


    He solemnly left the surroundings of the temple, and he moved to the terraces of the city. A few soldiers with galeas on their heads and chain mail on their shoulders patrolled the area, as if ensuring only free citizens entered, or high class slaves such as gladiators or musicians under special invitations.


    He advanced through the narrow terrace, where wealthy couples stared at the setting sun, and small boys in silk clothes played with wooden toys. Life was good up there.


    The third house had an engraving with the family name and a small effigy of the Huntress and the Owl at the entrance, with a few golden coins beneath her painted feet. That was the house. He walked toward the bright wooden door and knocked with a golden knocker.


    The door opened promptly. Old Walpatinus stood inside, wearing a green cape over his toga.


    ¡°Cladius! My son, welcome,¡± Walpatinus hugged him and kissed him in the cheek. ¡°What happened to you?¡± The old man clasped his cheek with two fingers. ¡°You look like you just ran at the Olympics. With your clothes on.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for having me,¡± Cladius said.


    ¡°Come on in. They¡¯re waiting for you.¡±


    ¡°They?¡± Cladius raised an eyebrow and followed the old man through the beautiful atrium. The old Senator had gathered a collection of marble statues that made his garden look like a temple. They stood in the midst of a forest of flowers and imported bushes, most of them rare and unusual, strangely green in the late autumn. Cladius couldn¡¯t help but stare.


    But the question remained. Who did he mean by they?


    As they walked toward the main entrance, dozens of servants passed by carrying silver trays.


    ¡°Dinner is ready now. You arrived just in time. Come on, lie down by the table.¡± Walpatinus said with a fatherly smile.


    Cladius nodded and went through the door with the marble pillars. His heart stopped for an instant as he saw bronze coloured hair reclining next to a woman with raven-black locks.


    Larius smiled at him like an old friend. Cladius wished the earth swallowed him.


    ¡°Oh, so you were headed here.¡± Larius stood up, his companion remained sitting. ¡°What a surprise!¡±


    Cladius froze. His tongue did not respond.


    ¡°Alright. I know,¡± Larius went on. ¡°I knew all about your meeting. Come on in. Make yourself comfortable. I have great news for you.¡±


    Cladius had no back up plan.


    ¡°And there are more guests.¡± Larius looked at the next room. ¡°Hey, big eye, we¡¯ve got our mutual friend here. Ready to do some business!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m coming, Laz,¡± responded an effeminate voice. Tiranus leaned out, wearing a golden toga and shining bracelets. ¡°Eh, the decent man. It¡¯s you.¡± Tiranus chuckled and went by him, and he walked by and greeted the stiff Larius with a kiss in the forehead.

 Chapter XII - Mad Dog

    ¡°Let''s get back before you get me into trouble.¡±


    Walerius put on his armour again. He looked as if he could melt the earth with his glance. ¡°Get ready,¡± he spewed.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Alana answered, rushing to the corner and putting her blue cloak back on. Walerius had already tied the sword to his belt and put the knife away. She thought of finding a weapon for herself. She looked through the makeshift table and the ground beneath but did not find anything.


    ¡°Let''s get going,¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming,¡± she muttered, scanning through the tables. The only thing that seemed useful was an old rusty iron nail. She quickly grabbed it and put it in her cloak¡¯s pocket.


    ¡°Don''t think of stealing anything because that, darling, is severely punished.¡±


    ¡°Right. I wouldn''t do that,¡± she chuckled.


    ¡°Fine. Let''s get out of this place.¡±


    Alana waited until he had turned his back on her, and she dashed through the curtains to snoop through other compartments. No weapons around, they had taken them all.


    ¡°Stop playing around,¡± Walerius said.


    Alana rushed to the center, heading toward the exit. On the ground, where a wooden pole stood, she found a grill and pots underneath. The sky was uncovered, but the canopy was tied to that pole, along with the stakes on the other side. There, she found something. She knelt quickly and grabbed a small knife, probably used for cutting ropes, and a rope that lay on the floor like a coiled serpent. She stuffed it in her pockets and followed Walerius to the exit.


    ¡°What were you doing there?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I had to tie my bootlace.¡±


    ¡°Mithras be damned! I made a mistake with you. Hopefully, there are still women left. Now, don''t let me get there late.¡±


    They walked down into the forest as a few men were walking up toward the camp, forcibly taking their war brides by the arms.


    ¡°I prefer to die!¡± one of the women said. Others silently accepted their fate.


    What would happen now?


    ¡°Hey, Walerius. Did they give you a broken one?¡± asked one of the soldiers.


    ¡°This wench is married to the son of an Imperial General,¡± he responded bitterly.


    ¡°What?¡± The other soldier was horrified. ¡°And they didn''t know? That is messed up.¡±


    ¡°You know, bad communication. Anyway, I''ll get going to see if I catch something.¡±


    She cleared her throat. ¡°Are all these soldiers single?¡±


    ¡°Some single, some divorced. Some just want an extra wife.¡±


    ¡°Extra?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It''s permitted now.¡±


    ¡°Who would do that?¡±


    ¡°Why not? A new law permits soldiers to have wives on different provinces. One per province.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.


    ¡°Soldiers have to dissipate the energy, you know, and harlots don''t give the same treatment. Also, the legion will need a constant supply of soldiers.¡±


    She rolled her eyes in disgust.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a cultural thing. I had never thought of that.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes people do it,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes. Anyway, I have my husband and I wouldn¡¯t change him, you know.¡±


    ¡°Give it a couple of years.¡±


    If they found out she was lying, it would be her end. What did she have to do now? She would find Kassius. If they had registries and censuses and all that, Kassius was probably still alive and relaxing on his farm.


    She kept walking slowly, drifting away from Walerius.


    On the other hand, if they found no record and her neighbors corroborated, even unwillingly, telling them that she was not married, that was another way to end her.


    The end of that could be even worse than being forced in marriage.


    The tall pine trees were becoming more common and the forest denser.


    She thought of running away, but the soldier''s huge legs could catch her quickly, so she kept walking slowly, steadily, between the trees and fallen leaves, striding upward until she stopped behind a tree and watched Walerius walk down toward the clearing.


    She stood behind the oak, looking at him, hoping he would be fooled to leave her, as her heartbeat raced. He kept walking. The plan was working.


    Suddenly. He turned around.


    ¡°Woman?¡± he asked, looking around. ¡°Woman, where are you?¡±


    Alana stood still, holding her breath. Walerius walked back through the path, looking around. Then, he knelt on the floor, scanning through the space between the leaves like a hunter.


    He knew how to track footprints.


    He moved slowly, noticing that her footprints were missing, then he strode back, approaching where she was. He was close to her and stopped when he was parallel to the oak. Alana moved swiftly, to hide her body behind the wide tree-trunk. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. Alana felt her stomach churn inside. Maybe that was the time to run.


    Instead, she held on to the oak and started climbing with her arms and feet. As she reached the first branch, she used her strength to pull up and clenched her teeth.


    ¡°Hey! Get down here!¡± Walerius yelled. ¡°Get down here immediately!¡±


    ¡°Leave me alone,¡± Alana said, still climbing. The branches were small, as she climbed with her arms, she supported her feet over the lower branches, using them as a ladder. One of them broke with her foot, and she grabbed the trunk more earnestly and kept moving up.


    ¡°Come down now, or I¡¯ll bring you down myself,¡± Walerius said, pointing at her with his calloused finger.


    ¡°I''m scared of you! Get away!¡±


    ¡°Scared of me?¡± He looked at her. ¡°I''ve tried so hard to do everything right! Come on, do not play around. Let me get you to town and we''ll settle the matter.¡±


    ¡°I''m scared it''s the way you hit everything around you; I am afraid you will hurt me.¡±


    ¡°Trust me! I won''t do any of that. Now get down before I really get mad.¡±


    ¡°I''m not getting down!¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Women,¡± he whispered, then he looked back up. ¡°Fine. I will climb myself and get you.¡±


    Alana clenched her teeth.


    ¡°Well, come and get me.¡±


    He wrapped his arms around the tree and started climbing with the strength of his legs until he got to the first branch, which he grabbed with his hand. It vibrated, the red leaves fell and floated down into the ground. He made an effort, driving his feet up, and grabbed a branch that hung overhead. It broke with a click.


    ¡°Oh no...¡± She said, leading her hand up to her head and pretending to be dizzy. ¡°I made a big mistake. I shouldn''t have come here. I... I cannot get down.¡±


    Walerius dropped to the ground, looking up. He could not climb.


    ¡°You stay there...¡± he said, pointing at her.


    Alana stood slowly over the branch, hugging the tree and looking downward, as if vertigo had overwhelmed her.


    ¡°I''m going to fall,¡± she said.


    ¡°Stay right there... I''ll bring help.¡±


    ¡°Please!¡± she screamed, as Walerius ran downhill and disappeared in the foliage. Then, Alana sighed and wiped the sweat off her forehead. She shivered, as the temperature was going down along with the sun. She looked around from her newfound watchtower. From there, the Queen of Heaven, Venus Agrimpaza, seemed to wink at her from above. She was the firstborn star, making way, once again, for the appearance of the Sons of Heaven. Underneath, she could see a faint red light, which seemed a bit stronger than usual. It was Mars, the avatar of Ares, which was rising above.


    The Red Star was moving toward Venus, slowly. Maybe it could mean something. She thought she would ask Aranus whenever she got the chance. But now, she had to get down.


    Then, she touched the inside of the pockets of her coat and took out the rope she had stolen. She held on to the tree and tied the rope around it. Then, she slid down slowly. She reached the ground safely and ran toward the village.


    The sun was already hiding before the faraway hills, and the Sons of Heaven appeared, covering the heavens, and so did the Moon. She could even see the Milky Way, a trail of gods and sparkling jewels of sky, shining over the hills. In that darkness, below the faint light, she remembered the gods of Heaven were still above her.


    Were they watching over? Did they even care about them? Was she also her child, as she called them father and mother sometimes?


    She walked carefully through the trees, watching for the light of the moon. From there she could see the river Dyion, which reflected the light of the heavens as a perfect mirror. She followed closely, as the screams of the soldiers echoed in the distance. She had to get to the road, somehow, so she walked along the riverbank, sliding through the bushes until she could see what she was looking for.


    From there, she saw the bridge. Torches were lit on each shore, and she thought she saw a soldier guarding it. She sighed, disappointed. It would not be wise to cross. The village looked as if a cloud of dread had been lit upon it. The roofs had all been damaged, and weak lanterns shone inside the rock houses, hiding the source of endless cries and moans. She did not want to think of what was going on in there.


    Now, she had to walk all the way back or swim through. Swimming? Impossible. Then, she remembered there was a passage through one of the creeks, which branched out along the river. There, a few flat rocks stood over the water¡¯s surface, and people walked over them as a shortcut.


    She kept walking for minutes on end. Through her way, she heard a loud howl in the night. It might be a wolf. She prayed silently and kept walking close to the shore. Gods above, are any one of you listening? Father? Are you looking at me from the Hall of the Fallen?


    What would her father think? She felt as if he was trying to say something. He would not want her to despair. No, as he had always said, they were put on the earth to fight battles and fight to the end. She could not give up.


    When Alana reached the section of the creek, she realized the current had grown to cover it almost completely, and she could barely see the rocks in the water.


    After removing her boots and holding them in one hand, she took a deep breath and jumped toward the first stone, polished by the crossing of a thousand feet and an eternal stream of water. She balanced her body and stood on one foot.


    Then, Alana carefully stretched her left leg, feeling the cold water. She felt the rigidness of the rock and jumped onto that part. She failed miserably and dropped into the water like a ball of cast iron. She swallowed water and moved her arms and legs frantically, trying to hold on to one of the rocks.


    But the current was strong and pulled her away; it dragged her across. As she gasped, trying hard to get her head over the water, panic engulfed her mind.


    In the small instant she felt dry air over her again, she let out a scream.


    Time seemed to slow down, when all of a sudden, she heard a splash around her. Someone had grabbed her. She clung to that body, desperate, and felt the cold rigidness of a metal armour. Water plunged inside her, her arms still wrestled the current, her heart pounded, and life passed through her mind.


    Then, she felt dry air around her face. The man swam back to the shore, where he pressed on her upper stomach. Water splashed out of her mouth. She panted, in despair, as the figure above her seemed to take shape.


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    It was a soldier, like any other, but his skin was extremely tan, the hair over his head ruffled and curly, his nose sharp, like an eagles'' beak.


    ¡°You made so much noise you woke up everybody living a mile around.¡±


    Alana coughed and shivered. She still felt miserable, as if she could not get the water out of her system.


    ¡°Wow,¡± she coughed again. ¡°Thank you for saving me.¡±


    ¡°Nothing to thank. What were you doing here? Trying to run away?¡±


    Alana coughed once again, incapable of controlling it. She gritted her teeth and watched her wet hair drip all over the grass.


    ¡°Come on.¡± The man approached her and tapped her on the back.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked after a long sigh and through uncontrollable shivers.


    ¡°Just a soldier,¡± the man said, removing his coat of fur and giving it to her. She removed her blue hood, as it was soaked and felt like it weighted a ton, and put on the soldier¡¯s coat. The hemp fabric of her tunic pressed against her skin, making her grit her teeth from the cold.


    ¡°You speak weird,¡± she muttered, shivering. ¡°You¡¯re not from the capital.¡±


    ¡°Well, not quite. I''m from a land next to the sea; Philisteea. My name is Apollos, if it¡¯s of any help.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Never heard of it.¡±


    ¡°What? How is that possible? That is a great ancient land full of glorious citadels. You don''t have schools here or what?¡±


    ¡°What''s a school?¡±


    ¡°Where they teach you history, geography.¡±


    ¡°No, we learn from our parents and we do apprenticeships.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± He scratched his beard.


    ¡°And you?¡± she asked him. ¡°Where is your wife?¡±


    ¡°Back home.¡±


    ¡°Didn''t you get one here?¡±


    ¡°I kind of don''t really want one now.¡±


    ¡°Now that is different.¡±


    ¡°I try to avoid adultery.¡±


    ¡°Adulwhat?¡±


    ¡°And now... What about your husband?¡±


    ¡°Ah! Yes. He... I need to find him. I got lost in the forest, I was just planning to get back, I swear. I was not hiding, or anything.¡±


    ¡°Alright. What''s his name?¡±


    ¡°Kassius. But he is not a soldier. He''s a farmer. Before you ask; he is the son of a General, and there was a confusion. He lives here and must still be at his farm.¡±


    Apollos raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Is he a citizen?¡±


    ¡°Of course he is. The legitimate son of General Marius Filyusdpitar and the late Radina of Vharzia. a patrician, no less.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Apollos seemed startled. ¡°Well, let''s go then, he must be waiting for you.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She stood up and felt small rocks against her naked feet. She had lost her boots. She sighed.


    ¡°Do you want me to carry you?¡± Apollos asked.


    She sighed.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I like walking like this.¡±


    ¡°Do you really? Even in the dark.¡±


    Alana shivered.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just go.¡±


    Alana swallowed and looked at the sky again. She thanked the gods. Even though her life had become the darkest nightmare, she knew, for some reason, they had not abandoned her. Maybe what her father said was true. She needed to keep fighting on. And what was a fight if it was not challenging.


    ¡°I am on patrol,¡± Apollos said. ¡°So I''ll leave you with someone else.¡±


    Alana was startled. Apollos seemed unique among those mad soldiers. Maybe because he was not a native Itruschian who felt like the entire world could be changed by them, and in turn, that the world owed them everything.


    ¡°Eh, Apollos. You know what? I am afraid. You know, the soldiers are strange, cruel and...¡±


    ¡°Cruel? You haven''t seen anything.¡±


    ¡°But you know what I mean. Would you mind walking me to the place?¡±


    ¡°No. But only if we¡¯re done with this quickly.¡±


    Alana guided him back to the village. It seemed like a cemetery; as the roofs were partly gone, mostly charred, and faint lights shone from the windows. Alana heard subtle cries but chanted in her mind not to pay attention to what was going on behind the walls. That would be too painful.


    Why had she been so lucky? She felt guilty. But maybe the gods had a mission for her to fulfil. She cleared her throat and looked at Apollos.


    She saw a patrol of soldiers walking around the village opposite to them, carrying their full armours and long spears.


    ¡°Ave,¡± Apollos said, saluting.


    They returned the salute. Alana sighed as they had passed them. Soon, after smashing her toes against a few rocks and roots and holding in the tears, they reached the gates of the house of Marius Filyusdyapitar, guarded with a fence of iron and statues of the Bear Goddess on top, as well as coiled snakes going down the barriers.


    ¡°So this is General Marius¡¯ farm. I wish I could get something like that,¡± Apollos said.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Arcturus started to bark in the dead of the night, so loud that it was almost painful to her ears. Suddenly, a figure walked toward them, holding a terracotta lamp that barely gave his figure away. Alana lowered her head, covering it under the hood.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± spewed the voice, as he stood in front of the barrier. Alana noticed the boots and the plate armour beneath the red overcoat.


    ¡°Is the master¡¯s son here?¡± Apollos asked.


    ¡°Who is asking?¡±


    ¡°His wife,¡± Alana said confidently. She raised her voice and yelled at the darkness before her. ¡°Kassius, Kassius, love, I¡¯m already here!¡±


    ¡°Cut it out. There¡¯s people sleeping here. You say you¡¯re his wife?¡± the guarding soldier asked. As if the dog was not loud enough.


    ¡°Of course I am.¡± Alana lifted her chin, trying to hide her trembling hands. ¡°Now, call Master Kassius quickly or I¡¯ll make sure they give you a good whipping.¡±


    ¡°Servant woman!¡± the soldier screamed, looking back. Kassius¡¯ servants must have been there, doing something. ¡°Someone¡¯s here asking for Master Kassius?¡±


    ¡°Who is it?¡± the woman said.


    ¡°She says she¡¯s his wife?¡±


    Alana crossed her fingers. She regretted not having thought of that situation.


    ¡°Wife? He has no wife!¡±


    Alana felt her heart turn around in her chest. Apollos turned toward her with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°Oh, no, no!¡± The soldier behind the fence smiled, revealing rotting teeth behind the light. ¡°You¡¯ve got yourself in some serious trouble.¡±


    Arcturus barked more aggressively.


    Alana turned around to run, but Apollos grabbed her by the arms. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡­ I have to look for my husband.¡±


    ¡°What husband?¡± The guard behind the fence laughed. ¡°Do you think we are stupid, little wench?¡±


    Alana swallowed but kept her chin up. Her eyes wandered from side to side.


    ¡°He''s... Yes. He''s my husband!¡±


    ¡°You know what we do to people who impersonate citizens?¡± The soldier put his ugly nose through the iron bars.


    Alana felt her tongue get stuck.


    ¡°Now, we''ll take you to the barracks,¡± Apollos said, as he tied her hands behind her back with a rope used to arrest criminals. She pulled her hands away, but the soldier¡¯s grip was stronger.


    ¡°Please no. There must be a mistake.¡±


    ¡°The only mistake was trusting you,¡± Apollos frowned. His face had completely transformed.


    Alana tried to run away, but Apollos quickly pulled her and yanked her close. She had nowhere to run.


    ¡°You''ll see.¡±


    The barking became louder. The guard turned around.


    ¡°What the devil is happening to that mad dog! I''m gonna put it out of its misery!¡±


    ¡°He''s mine, let him out, you''ll see he¡¯ll recognize me!¡± Alana cried in desperation, her bound arms were starting to fall asleep.


    ¡°Are you insane? Or do you take me for a fool? I would not let that dog out even if they gave me a pot of gold. Alright, little wench, behave.¡± The guard looked at Apollos. ¡°Now you take her to the camp, and there, they will teach her a lesson.¡±


    ¡°Come on,¡± Apollos said, almost dragging her.


    ¡°Let me go!¡± she cried.


    Suddenly, they heard a sound coming from the trees nearby. A silhouette emerged from the top of the trees. It was a slim man, wearing a dark coat.


    ¡°Who is that!¡± said the soldier. ¡°This is curfew time. Now get over here and identify yourself.¡±


    ¡°You who do you think you are?¡± the figure responded. Alana recognized Kassius'' voice immediately, and the light soon was cast upon his youthful face. He had a mark on his forehead, like smudged ink.


    ¡°I am asking you!¡± the soldier asked.


    ¡°Darling! I''m glad you came,¡± Alana said. ¡°They don''t believe I''m your wife.¡±


    ¡°Why are you doing this to my wife? This is unacceptable. I am Kassius, son of General Marius Filyusdyapitar. Now, let my lady go.¡±


    ¡°And what are you doing so late? Do you not understand that there is a curfew going on?¡± the guard at the gate said with an ugly frown.


    ¡°It is my understanding that the curfew only applied to non-citizens,¡± Kassius said with a forced Itruschian accent. ¡°And I was just taking a walk through my property.¡±


    The guard


    ¡°How do we know it is you?¡±


    ¡°Call any servants,¡± hey will  .¡±


    ¡°Fat woman!¡±


    The old servant lady appeared, seeming restless and annoyed.


    ¡°What is happening here!¡± she asked, frowning.


    ¡°Is this your master?¡± the soldier pointed at Kassius with his gloved hand.


    ¡°Aye, that¡¯s him.¡±


    ¡°And most importantly, is this  wife?¡±


    Alana noticed Kassius was gesturing to the woman so that she would not blow up their protection.


    ¡°Emmm...¡±


    ¡°Is she his wife or not,¡± the soldier insisted, his saliva splashing about.


    ¡°Of course she is,¡± the woman muttered, lowering her eyes.


    ¡°Then why did you say it was not her!¡± the guard snapped.


    ¡°Because... I thought she was...¡±


    ¡°What did you think?¡± said the soldier, impatiently.


    ¡°Sire, honestly, I''ve been drinking too much lately.¡±


    ¡°Be careful with wine, woman, or we''ll put a restriction on it, and if you don¡¯t follow it, you¡¯ll get a severe punishment.¡±


    The soldier opened the gate without changing his expression at all, making a space for them.


    ¡°Come in, sir.¡±


    Apollos untied Alana. She sighed in relief and shook her arms about, and she looked at him for an instant as if to say thank you. Although he had threatened her, there was something decent in him. His expression was stiff. Alana smiled at him and followed Kassius into the field.


    ¡°By Venus, you saved me,¡± Alana said as they were away from the soldiers, then she sighed.


    ¡°Well, good thing I was still around the property,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°And good idea on your side.¡±


    ¡°How come nobody found you?¡±


    ¡°I''ve told you, sigils work,¡± he said with a wink.


    ¡°Oh, you''ve told me that. Anyway. Thank you.¡±


    ¡°No need to thank me. I couldn¡¯t let them hurt you, those...¡± He turned back and stared at the soldiers with disdain.


    ¡°But many suffered a fate worse than I could. Kassius! This is horrible! How can something like this be allowed to happen?¡±


    Kassius frowned. He clenched his teeth.


    ¡°I hate this. I hate part of myself. I can¡¯t believe this is happening.¡± He swallowed. He stared at her, eyes wide open. ¡°Ala, did you see my grandfather? The Elder?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Kassius. I saw him.¡±


    Kassius sighed. ¡°He is the only one who would know what to do.¡±


    ¡°The soldiers were behind him. He¡¯s still alive, but they¡¯re trying to force him to say things. Kassius...¡±


    ¡°Makes sense, if the people of Adachia don¡¯t have a guide; even the women, they will kill anything that looks remotely like an Itruschian soldier whenever they get a chance. And believe me¡­ they will.¡±


    ¡°Kassius, two soldiers were standing next to him, heavily armed. He looked downtrodden, maybe tortured. And¡­ he said something you will find interesting.¡±


    They entered Kassius¡¯ villa in the dark, and he took an old lantern that still hung from the doorway.


    ¡°Keep your voice low,¡± he said. ¡°Speak in Gadalian, not in the common tongue.¡±


    ¡°Sure¡­¡± she whispered.


    He guided her to a small room inside the wooden house, very different from the small bricks that constructed round Gadalian houses. There was a bed on the side, made of wood, and dozens of magical signs hung from the walls.


    ¡°What did Aranus say?¡± Kassius asked, on his haunches, lighting a fire in the chimney.


    ¡°He said¡­ that we should bend our knees until the Sun of Ares sets on us, and its sword is found.¡±


    ¡°The sword?¡± Kassius raised an eyebrow, bewildered. He fed the fire with dry branches from a basket next to the door. ¡°Put that cloak of yours here to dry and put something dry on. Go change in my wardrobe if you want. Quickly, I don¡¯t want you to fall sick,¡± he said to her. She put it on a chair and moved it next to the chimney.


    ¡°So, the sun and the sword,¡± Alana continued, entering the wardrobe. She peeked through the hanging racks and found dresses that had belonged to Kassius¡¯ late mother. She found one made of hemp, white on top with red embroiders descending from the collar into the hips where it turned into two stylized black bears, one on each side. Beautiful, comfortable, and protective, although it smelled a bit like old moss. ¡°This is perfect,¡± she said to herself. She found a pair of thick winter boots and felt relieved when her feet were protected again, then she walked out. ¡°You know about the legend, don¡¯t you, Kasha?¡± she asked from behind the door.


    ¡°Of course I do, Alana the Brave, that looks good on you, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she smiled faintly. ¡°So, I was telling you, your gramps said¡­ the sword would be found.¡±


    Kassius sat on his bed, with the light of the chimney reflecting on his green eyes.


    ¡°Then if it is true¡­¡± He sighed and knelt his head down. ¡°I just cannot believe what just happened.¡±


    ¡°We have to do something! Kasha, I¡¯m here, safe, with you. Irema has been given as a wife. As a slave, rather, and Gitara has been locked away. She is pregnant! Kasha! This cannot be allowed to happen. The gods must help. They must!¡±


    Kassius took a deep breath.


    ¡°I feel something. Something in my heart,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Alright. That is something. A bit weird, though.¡±


    ¡°Ala,¡± He lifted his head. ¡°What if the people who are meant to find it¡­ is us?¡±


    Alana said nothing.


    ¡°Kassius. I just wish to liberate my friends and the people I knew. My father died by their hands, and so many more. Kassius, I was with Badratz when it happened. I saw him die. I saw Atila, the big cadet from the army, die in front of me.¡±


    ¡°Badratz?¡± Kassius moaned. He shook his head. ¡°How could they? What did he do?¡±


    ¡°Being Gadalian. That was his crime.¡±


    Kassius clenched his teeth. He peeled his eyes, astonished.


    ¡°All dead. All¡­ dead.¡±


    ¡°All the men that could pose a threat. Only small children were left alive.¡±


    He sat cross-legged on his bed, his eyes sparkled, wide open, his thin face changed into fear and awe.


    ¡°Why?¡± he said to the wind, shaking his head.


    ¡°Kassius, the gods can¡¯t let this go unpunished. If only we could do something to protect my people.¡±


    ¡°Then, Alana, the sword must be found.¡±


    ¡°I pray that it will. But...¡±


    Kassius stared at her.


    ¡°Kassius?¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you thinking what I am thinking?¡±


    Alana felt like a boulder was being put over her shoulders, like a yoke of iron and wood. She was alive. She was free, as of that moment. What if the gods had put her in that place at that moment for a reason?


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said.


    ¡°And then what? Go around, parading it?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes, let them spread the word, go East, to the tribes who still live on the steppe, go North, to the legionnaires among our people. This would go against my own father, my own Empire, but it is the true will of my heart. I can feel it, Alana. I can feel its energy drawing me toward this.¡±


    ¡°I would say the same thing.¡±


    ¡°But first, let¡¯s find the sword. And if the gods have chosen us, believe me, we will.¡±

 Chapter XIII - Agriculture

    Cladius¡¯ dining partners had already had a few trips to the Vomitorium, thus stuffing themselves for a second and third time as the night went on. The purpose of the meeting was still a mystery to him. No one mentioned anything about it. The conversations had centred on the quality of Southern wines and the varieties of grapes that produced the most aromatic ones and how they were on the palate; as well as compliments going to the chef. Roasted piglet was served stuffed with vine leaves, as well as succulent lamb ribs with pickled fish sauce. Even these glorious dishes could not get Cladius¡¯ spirit up. He had a bit of diluted wine, but he knew if he drank more than necessary, his own soul would betray him.


    Time for dessert came in the form of fruits, even fat red mangoes imported from Bharat. Cladius missed their taste, for even though his bowels were sensitive to them, he ate them whenever the occasion arose.


    And yet, he wished he were not there at that moment.


    After laughter and jokes Cladius could not relate to, old Walpatinus cleared his throat and stood up with a painted vase in hand.


    ¡°Friends, I am exceedingly glad to welcome you all home. I hope you have delighted yourselves at the legendary hospitality of the Walpatinus family. And as you can tell, we¡¯ve kept the festivities family friendly.¡±


    Cladius remained still, pretending to smile.


    ¡°Ave, my comrades. To the future!¡± Walpatinus said, as the rest of them repeated the formula and toasted.


    Cladius¡¯ glance got lost in the red wine. Its sweet and vinegary aromas didn¡¯t distract him from his loneliness.


    The old senator sat back, laughing as loud as he could.


    ¡°Well, in all seriousness now.¡± Larius hushed his companions, and Walpatinus went on with his speech.


    ¡°So, as you¡¯ve known. This is a moment to come together as friends. We have persecuted different endeavours.¡± Walpatinus pointed at Cladius, as if acknowledging him. ¡°You, my friend; you¡¯ve had a quite successful campaign. It¡¯s too bad, my friends, but we have all changed plans.¡±


    Cladius swallowed.


    ¡°I am afraid, my friends, that I have not been informed about this meeting,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Larius said. ¡°Sorry to do it behind your back, but you know; we are the kind of people who love to compromise. We know your style, my friend, you like to be left alone and do things on your side, so we figured if you knew you wouldn¡¯t come.¡±


    ¡°Larius, cut it out,¡± Walpatinus said. ¡°Let young Cladius relax. Anyway, aren¡¯t we all old friends? Larius, your friendship with Cladius goes back many years.¡±


    ¡°Once a friend, always a friend,¡± Larius said, raising his glass high.


    What did they want? To make him feel guilty? Did they think he was that gullible? He smiled shyly, but anyone could see the irony in his eyes.


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    ¡°So¡­ Without further ado.¡± Walpatinus coughed loudly, covering his mouth with his long sleeves. ¡°Today we will discuss the Frontier Agricultural Project.¡±


    Cladius opened his eyes wide. There were more questions in his head than from a few minutes ago.


    ¡°The province of Tharcia, of which our beloved friend Larius is the current governor, is going through profound changes. You are all aware of the great democratic shift that is going on as we speak.¡±


    Cladius¡¯ eye started to palpitate. Just thinking of the accounts of how Larius had wiped out all the men made him stutter. But it would be embarrassing to show it before the man.


    Larius stood up and looked at Cladius in the eye.


    ¡°You know of the unfortunate death of a sixth of the total population, which was a necessary evil. I say it in great pain. And I am sorry for the economic losses it caused you, Senator Cladius. This is why I¡¯ve invited you here, to make up for it.¡±


    Cladius opened his mouth, but no words came out.


    ¡°So...¡± Walpatinus continued. ¡°This is the deal. The province of Tharcia has vast swaths of forest, the rest is steppe. However, the sparsely populated land produces few things other than expensive metal weapons and armoury and clothing that can be acquired for the same price through the Great Commercial Routes. They harvest barley and their pernicious crop which they use for clothing and intoxication. Right now we have issues with providing food to our northern military people. And here in our glorious capital, women and children suffer.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ What are you planning to do?¡± Tiranus asked. ¡°Just plant wheat, that¡¯s it? But those barbarians don¡¯t even know what a grain is.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Walpatinus snapped his fingers. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re going to repopulate it. We already started. Our soldiers are building their own families, we will soon burn down the primeval forest and start developing wide swaths of cultivable land.¡±


    ¡°Wait...¡± Cladius said. ¡°You cannot just burn a forest and then plant wheat in it.¡±


    ¡°Well, we can. We will,¡± Larius said, locking his eyes with his.


    ¡°What about the people?¡±


    ¡°Most of the people there are women who are just being married to our legionaries,¡± Larius clarified. ¡°We provided our soldiers with wives, and soon we will give them the land. The living standard of those women will be greatly improved. Those who are not married will be sent to work here.¡±


    ¡°And what role do we play?¡± Tiranus asked, speaking for him and Cladius.


    ¡°Tiranus, you already have contacts with imperial appointees and officials at trading routes. No one could be better for managing the transition. And you¡­ Cladius. You may still manage the import and export of metal products and I will gladly grant you a percentage on the eventual production of grain.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Cladius said, coughing.


    ¡°I want you on my side,¡± Larius said with a big smile. ¡°That¡¯s why I cannot afford to lose you for this project.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°And your friend Tiranus will be with you.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± Cladius muttered.


    ¡°So? Are you with us?¡±


    ¡°I guess I am,¡± Cladius said, but sweat was drifting down from his brow. What could he do now?


    ¡°So, we¡¯ll keep you informed. Let¡¯s discuss how we¡¯ll go about it. I will be going back to Tharcia soon and implement these ideas.


    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re going,¡± said Cladius.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°He wanted to go,¡± Tiranus interrupted, pouring himself more wine.


    ¡°Oh, did you?¡± Larius asked. ¡°Why is that?¡±


    ¡°I have always been curious. Now, my curiosity is even greater,¡± Cladius said.


    ¡°You mean, you want to accompany me to Tharcia?¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Cladius said, then swallowed. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll be part of your project. Why not¡­ You know, get on with it. Start with the right foot.¡±


    ¡°Certainly,¡± Larius said with a smile of white and gold, his three gold teeth reflected the light of the lanterns on the wall.

 Chapter XIV - Inquisitor

    Aranus remained still, his curved back pained from sitting on the hard wooden stool. Three armoured men sat around him, a pale lantern shone above their heads, unveiling their faces with fire light. The centurion faced him, his scarred brow in a perpetual frown and his dark head free from the elaborate helmet he carried the rest of the day. The other two were younger. One slender and pale. The other one smelled of wine and had a large forehead and early white hair. The dark curved walls of his own home remained still in the night, and he held in his tremors.


    He sighed, remaining still in his mind, in his dreams. He had gone through many battles in his youth, he had blessed thousands of swords to defend his people, and even shot arrows at beasts and enemies when necessary. And once again, he did not know whether he would come out alive. Pain pulsated in his back where his flesh was open and humid from that morning¡¯s flogging.


    ¡°I just need time to consult the spirits,¡± he said.


    ¡°Do not be so foolish,¡± the centurion snapped at him. ¡°You deserve to be dismembered just like all the others. Moreover, you are the true head of the serpent.¡± He looked at the slim soldier, then slapped Aranus across the face.


    The Elder tightened his teeth and turned his head back. The pain vibrated in his face like a throbbing burn. He took another deep breath and obliged his mind to focus on his breathing and not the pain. The slim soldier tensed his teeth and shut his eyes for an instant, as if distressed by the scene.


    The centurion stood up.


    ¡°Do you want to die?¡± he screamed in Aranus¡¯ face, spit splashing over him.


    ¡°Death does not scare me,¡± Aranus muttered.


    ¡°Then, as you wish,¡± the centurion looked at him sternly. ¡°We will whip you a hundred times and remove your teeth one by one. Is that what you want, old man? Tell us the truth!¡±


    ¡°Pain is pain. I cannot tell you anything but the truth, but what you are looking for in my words, that I do not know.¡±


    ¡°You are asking for the whipping again, old man. This time, it will be worse.¡±


    No question remained in his mind. They wanted to seal fear in him. Had they succeeded? It was of no use, he thought, he felt like water in a vessel about to break. Even if the vessel broke, the water would maybe scatter, but remain, ready to take any other shape.


    What was pain, anyway, but an illusion?


    ¡°Now, old man. Speak,¡± the centurion grabbed him by the hemp tunic. What is the meaning of the Red Sun?¡± He asked, his dark eyes fixed on his.


    Aranus breathed deeply.


    ¡°The red sun is the Red Star. The one you call after the god Mars, the sun that shone many aeons ago. The third sun, in the age of the giants, the ones you call Titans.¡±


    ¡°Quit the idiocy and tell us what it means. Was it a cue to cultists? A secret message?¡±


    Aranus looked up at the centurion, and he spoke calmly:


    ¡°Yes. Why not? It is a cue to those who believe.¡±


    ¡°What does it mean? What is the meaning of this sign in the sky? Is it calling for a rebellion? Is a rebellion going to be the response?¡±


    ¡°No rebellion whatsoever, sire. I have told you. Only hope in the prophecies.¡±


    ¡°Centurion Julius,¡± the slender soldier interrupted his superior. ¡°I think he''s telling the truth.¡±


    ¡°No he is not,¡± Julius stood up, almost tumbling the table on the side. ¡°He¡¯s hiding something about the Mysteries.¡±


    ¡°I am saying what I know,¡± Aranus said, lowering his head. ¡°What do you want me to say? I have told you over and over again. The Sword of Ares was given by the God to fight the giants. What it means for the future, I do not know. I have only vague figures in my mind.¡±


    ¡°Centurion, the man is telling the truth,¡± the young soldier said. ¡°He meant it as a cue, but of nothing real and tangible, but of the dreams he has.¡±


    ¡°Do you think you know anything about how this works? First of all, do not talk to your superior like that, or the gods will choose you for decimation.¡±


    ¡°I am just saying,¡± the rebellious soldier said, eyes down, shaking his head. ¡°There is nothing more we can get. There is no conspiracy.¡±


    ¡°You don''t understand, do you?¡± The centurion grew anxious. ¡°Now, get on with the program, or you will be the one hung for asking so many questions.¡±


    The soldier did not answer.


    ¡°I¡­ I understand. Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Now, as for you.¡± The centurion looked back at Aranus. ¡°You quit playing around and get on with the program. Now I will give you a chance. Tomorrow you will address the women. Tell them to comply if they don''t want the guts of their toddlers to be spilled, and then their own. Tell them nicely, so they understand.¡±


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Aranus tensed his teeth. Should he resist and die? Or...


    A thought crossed his mind. He could feel power vibrating through his soul. The gods still needed him.


    ¡°I will always speak the truth. If this is needed to protect them, I will.¡±


    The centurion unsheathed his short sword, riveted. He swung it upward and Aranus heard a bang. The centurion had driven it through the armrest. Aranus feared having lost his fingers, but it was not the case.


    ¡°And tell me something about the Red Sun, something that satisfies me, or else you¡¯ll lose a hand. At least.¡±


    Aranus kept breathing deep. ¡°He fought the giants and imprisoned them.¡±


    ¡°Are we the giants?¡± the centurion yelled impatiently, waving his sword around. ¡°What the hell does that mean? I am losing patience with you. We have tried to be soft with you old man, but you will drive me out of my usual.¡±


    ¡°That things will be as they once were.¡±


    ¡°Once again. Are we the giants?¡±


    Aranus hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Enough. If you mention the damn legend once again to those wanton whores, I¡¯ll cut off all of your fingers. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    But Aranus would say what his soul would tell him.


    But what about that sword?


    The centurion grabbed a rope from overhead, used to herd cattle, and tied it around Aranus¡¯ body. He felt the tension tear through his fragile skin but closed his eyes.


    ¡°Now this will teach you. If we find you soiled yourself in the night it¡¯s your responsibility, old man.¡±


    The soldiers stood up. The centurion blew out the candle and the room went completely dark.


    ¡°Good night.¡±


    Aranus thought of death. There was a calmness surrounding that concept. He felt he had to take care of the welfare of his people; but on a personal level, the only person he had left to care about was his grandson. The death of many caused him pain, but if he died, his whole existence on the earth felt like a joke, a legacy lost, to disappear into dust. His daughter had married an enemy before the war, and yet, out of that unlikely union, a child had been born, the unmistakable seed of their spiritual lineage. Aranus missed him, after all those days. The boy had grown into a wise young man, with a will to learn and spiritual sensibility.


    Aranus was proud of his grandson Kassius.


    ***


    ¡°Centurion Julius, with all due respect, I¡¯m telling you, I know these priestly types. He won¡¯t say anything because there¡¯s nothing that makes sense in his head,¡± said the young soldier.


    ¡°What is that supposed to mean, soldier Felix?¡± The centurion took a sip of wine. ¡°By Saturn¡¯s beard, what are we doing here outside? It¡¯s getting freezing cold.¡±


    The soldier with the wide forehead seemed mesmerized by the moon above, oblivious to their conversation.


    ¡°Centurion, please,¡± Julius continued.


    ¡°Enough with your pestering!¡± the Centurion answered. Spit flew toward Felix¡¯s face. He wiped it promptly. Felix felt inclined to talk more, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. And although he looked volatile and tough on the outside, and was surely capable of brutality, but he was more talk than action when it came to the men under his command.


    Felix nodded quietly and looked away.


    Julius took another sip and stared at the forest with an expression like a dog bred for pit fighting.


    ¡°What are you looking at, Aezius?¡± the centurion asked the mesmerized soldier.


    ¡°You know,¡± the soldier responded, his voice deep, his eyes still fixed above. ¡°The stars are scary, you know, this trite, the gods, the planets, the stars. Spooky stuff. Centurion, pass me the wine, please.¡±


    The centurion passed the wine skin and Aezius seemed to get overexcited and took three big sips.


    ¡°Calm down, don¡¯t finish it.¡±


    Aezius¡¯ face was pale, and his eyes were sunken. He shook his head.


    ¡°I say we kill the old man. He¡¯s bad luck, I think.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Felix snapped. ¡°Let¡¯s follow the program. We already killed too many.¡±


    Suddenly, the two other soldiers burst out laughing.


    ¡°No man is innocent,¡± Aezius said, and he spat on the floor. ¡°Eh¡­ Let¡¯s get inside, this cold is horrible.¡±


    ¡°Felix, you stay on guard. We¡¯ll be in the atrium, then we¡¯ll switch positions,¡± the centurion said.


    ¡°What? I mean¡­ Yes, sir.¡±


    Aezius stood up, grabbing his helmet from the rocky stairs. The centurion did the same thing. Both walked toward the door and Felix remained attentive to what they said.


    ¡°Centurion, I am serious. This man may mean trouble. I say we finish him off tonight, or else tomorrow he may. Did you hear him, he is not afraid of death or pain. And I know when they are not.¡± The two men entered the room and the door shut behind their backs.


    ¡°Do it before a rebellion starts,¡± Aezius continued. ¡°Women want food. That¡¯s all they want. To feed their stinking cubs, that¡¯s all. You feed them they¡¯re happy, but if someone tells them they¡¯re special or their seed is apart, they will stab us in the back when we¡¯re not looking.¡±


    From that moment onward, Felix did not hear any more. He sighed, grabbed his bronze helmet, and threw it at the wall. It clanked and stray cats jumped out of the ceiling in sight. He crossed his arms. He hated that place. That was the worst mission he had been sent on. He had not been assigned a wife and did not want one. He only thought of Domitia, his sweetheart back in Veniz, and he shuddered at the thought of not seeing her again.


    What he had seen that day was wrong, and after talking to the old man, it was even worse. That did not make any sense with the tale about the conspiracy and the Mysteries of Ares. It seemed like an unprovoked attack against people who had not done anything but live in peace. The people of Adachia were not even the same Gadalians who had invaded Itruschia fifteen years before.


    If it were up to him, he would change things. But how could he?

 Chapter XV - On the Run

    ¡°And now, we have two options. Either stay in here and avoid contact with the outside world or get out. Preferably tomorrow. If they find us, it won¡¯t take long for them to figure out we¡¯re not actually married,¡± Kassius said peeking through the door, back into the hallway. He looked back at Alana, his eyes sincere and worried. ¡°Ala, if they will find out, I don¡¯t want to see what they¡¯ll do. Just being a citizen doesn¡¯t make me untouchable. I can go to prison as well.¡±


    Alana scratched her chin. ¡°Let¡¯s plan, Kasha. First, I think we should speak to your grandfather.¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± Kassius asked, raising an eyebrow. Alana could see his usual attitude. He hated going out far from his land.


    ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s look for him,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°We should go tomorrow morning. There¡¯s a curfew going on.¡±


    ¡°If we go in the morning, everybody will see us and ask questions,¡± Alana said. ¡°It¡¯s better to hide now that the sun is not up.¡±


    ¡°Under the curfew?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Well,¡± Alana cleared her throat. ¡°I don¡¯t want certain people to find me.¡±


    ¡°What did you do?¡± Kassius asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Me? Nothing. Well, I just ran away. I think they¡¯re still looking for me. I don¡¯t want them to see me.¡±


    Kassius sighed, then stood up. ¡°Fine. You¡¯re right. We cannot stay. I must go with you,¡± he said, running toward a table in the corner of the room. There, he grabbed a pot of red ink, sealed with a cork. He opened it and smeared it on his finger.


    ¡°Kasha, what are you doing?¡± Alana asked.


    He walked toward her. Alana stepped back, alarmed, but he touched her forehead with the smudged finger, it was wet and warm. He drew a circle.


    ¡°Stay still,¡± he said, sliding his finger slowly and drawing small angles. ¡°I was using this sigil to hide.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I guess it worked then,¡± Alana muttered.


    ¡°Yes. So, let me just...¡± He walked to a small broken mirror that hung from the wall and drew the magic sign on his own forehead.


    ¡°Put this on, the dress will not be enough.¡± He handed Alana an overshirt made of wool, a scarf, and warm gloves.


    ¡°Thanks. I needed this,¡± she said, as she wore it and then checked her blue cloak. It was still damp.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you something to eat,¡± Kassius said, getting his bow and arrows ready, and packing the rest in a big leather bag. ¡°Let that thing dry off for a few minutes and let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    ***


    When both were ready, Kassius slowly opened the door and peeked outside.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he whispered, and they walked out on their tiptoes into a cold and wide atrium guarded by old pillars, next to a series of doors that shielded food cellars and the servant¡¯s quarters. Opposite side of the hallway, in the centre of the building, stood a huge garden of olives and roses that would blossom in the coming spring. ¡°We¡¯re going through the back exit,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°And then what?¡± Alana asked.


    Then, a door creaked open.


    ¡°Who is there?¡± a voice asked. Alana saw bony hands carrying a terracotta lantern. It soon revealed a man¡¯s wrinkled face and white hair. He seemed scared. ¡°Ah, Master Kassius. What are you doing? Miss Alana?¡±


    Kassius faced the old man and put one finger in front of his face.


    ¡°Tyaraz,¡± he whispered. ¡°We¡¯re going out.¡±


    ¡°Master, but there is a curfew going on.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Kassius said. ¡°We know. Please ignore us. Do not inquire after us. We must go look for grandfather, he may be in danger.¡±


    ¡°No. Master, I have to protect you. It¡¯s not safe out there.¡±


    ¡°Tyaraz, please. You know what just happened! Grandfather is in danger!¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t want to put you in danger.¡±


    Kassius lowered his head.


    ¡°What are you going to do then? Send a message to Father?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I must go,¡± Kassius insisted.


    Tyraz paused. He looked around.


    ¡°Be careful,¡± Tyraz muttered.


    ¡°We will be,¡± Kassius said and walked past him. Alana said goodbye and followed Kassius into the field. She shivered as a cold wind blew through her clothes, seeming to pierce into her bones.


    ¡°My gods...¡± she stuttered.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s just watch out for the soldiers,¡± Kassius said.


    Alana walked behind him, as the moon illumined their path over the grazed fields.


    Suddenly, a loud bark was heard.


    ¡°Not again, Arcturus,¡± Kassius shook his head. Alana sighed. ¡°Come on,¡± Kassius said. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here quick, Ala.¡±


    But they heard a foreign voice ring through the field.


    ¡°Damned be that animal,¡± it said.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Kassius grabbed Alana¡¯s gloved hand, and they rushed together toward the iron fence.


    And the voices behind them continued.


    ¡°You, son of a blade, I can¡¯t sleep with this animal making all that noise. Put it out of its misery.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± asked the other soldier.


    ¡°Are you deaf? Kill the damn thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Sure,¡± the other voice responded.


    Kassius stopped abruptly and stared at Alana. She blinked in surprise.


    ¡°Kassius are you thinking of...¡±


    Kassius looked ahead at the fence, and swallowed.


    ¡°Alright, boy,¡± the voice behind the villa said. They could hear the soldier walking through the field, his boots and armour clanking. Arcturus barked loudly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I have to do this to you.¡±


    Alana grasped Kassius¡¯ hand tightly.


    ¡°Alana I cannot let this happen,¡± he said, cold breath escaping as a cloud of smoke.


    ¡°Neither can I,¡± Alana said, and she turned around and ran toward the barn.


    ¡°Alana, no!¡± Kassius cried behind her back.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    The sound of the soldier¡¯s movement stopped abruptly.


    ¡°What was that? Did you hear it?¡± the soldier said to his comrade, who was not yet to be seen. Alana strode quickly to the other side of the barn and faced the soldiers. It was the one who had been at the gate, and another, younger one.


    ¡°You!¡± the soldier said.


    ¡°No, you!¡± Alana blurted. ¡°I could hear you threatening to kill our dog. What kind of a man are you, killing a defenceless animal?¡±


    ¡°Does that thing look defenceless to you?¡±


    He illumined the barn and the fence where Arcturus flashed his sharp teeth, like razors, his blue eyes shining and narrow, menacingly.


    ¡°Come on! It¡¯s just a dog. He¡¯s kind. Barking dogs don¡¯t bite.¡± Alana knelt beside the fence. ¡°Clam down, Arcturus, calm.¡±


    The dog slowly relaxed its muscles, its tail was still up, expectantly. It lifted its head slowly as Alana put her hand through. Arcturus approached her hand swiftly, licking it.


    ¡°Come on, boy,¡± she said, stroking Arcturus¡¯s head with her fingertips, and then petting its neck. The soldier took a step back, easing the tension. ¡°You know what?¡± Alana stood up. ¡°I¡¯m gonna take him with me, he will sleep with us.


    The soldier frowned then turned back as Alana opened the gate and the dog jumped out. Alana hugged its huge neck and petted its head.


    ¡°Time to go,¡± she said, and she walked out of the barn. She stopped cold as Kassius was standing firm and a soldier was standing by his side, lantern in hand and a spear pointing toward Kassius¡¯ back.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Alana asked, her stomach turning.


    ¡°Where were you two going?¡±


    ¡°We overheard your conversation and stepped out to defend our dog,¡± she said, as she held onto Arcturus¡¯s spiked collar.


    ¡°Well, it looks like you were going hunting,¡± the soldier pointed to the ground. Kassius¡¯ travel bag on the floor, its contents emptied nearby, including Kassius¡¯ folded bow and a quiver full of arrows. ¡°Again. Let me ask you. Don¡¯t you know there is a curfew going on?¡±


    ¡°We¡­ just...¡± Kassius was as pale as the moon.


    ¡°You tell me, big mouthed blondie. What were you two planning to do?¡± the soldier asked, looking at Alana and brushing the tip of his spear against Kassius¡¯ back.


    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t accuse us of being outside after dark, because we weren¡¯t,¡± Alana said, when Arcturus¡¯ mood tensed up again, and he flashed his teeth and stood defensively. She held onto the collar.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fool around. Do you think I¡¯m stupid?¡± the soldier growled.


    ¡°What is going on in here?¡± The first soldier approached from behind.


    Arcturus barked aggressively and tensed his muscles.


    ¡°Please...¡± Alana grasped the collar, but Arcturus pulled her forward, gnashing his teeth. Alana felt she was losing balance. ¡°We did not mean any harm.¡±


    And then, Alana let go. The dog rushed toward one of the soldiers, as a white lion hunting a mountain goat, and leaped over him. Arcturus was a war dog and knew how to do kill. It bit him furiously in the neck as the soldier sorely struggled to get the dog over him. His pleas became wailing and then gasps for air.


    ¡°By Saturn¡¯s beard. Stop!¡± Kassius said, trying to get a hold of Arcturus¡¯s collar.


    Alana looked to the side, and the other soldier was preparing his sword and aiming it at Arcturus¡¯s body. He pranced forward. Alana instinctively stepped in between him and the dog, with her arms stretched out.


    ¡°Leave it,¡± she said, lifting her chin.


    The furious biting stopped abruptly, and Kassius managed to get the dog away from the soldier.


    ¡°Caius, are you alright?¡± The standing soldier pushed Alana and Kassius away, kneeling in front of the body, as Kassius held onto the dog once again.


    ¡°My gods! What have you done to him!¡±


    It bit exactly where blood flowed in the neck. The man agonized, eyes open, blood staining his side and the grass. He soon died.


    Alana and Kassius looked at each other. The dog, once again, broke loose, and the soldier turned around; he drew his sword and swung it against Arcturus. Arcturus dodged quickly and bit the soldier in the leg.


    ¡°Arcturus, stop it now!¡± Kassius said. ¡°Stop!¡± he ordered, and the dog finally let go. The soldier stood up, gasping.


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry,¡± Kassius said, lifting his arms.


    ¡°You¡¯re sorry. You¡¯ll be sorry in Hades! I¡¯ll kill your damn dog and you!¡± the soldier snapped and lunged forward at Kassius with his sword. Kassius tried to evade, but the sword pierced through his shoulder.


    Arcturus jumped up and bit the soldier¡¯s leg again. He smote him with the sword, and Arcturus crawled back, moaning like a lost puppy.


    ¡°You¡¯re dead!¡± The soldier jumped toward Kassius, sword forward, ready to stab him in the stomach.


    The soldier suddenly stopped, quickly opening his mouth and gasping for air, as Alana removed the small knife from his back.


    The soldier fell to his knees, then collapsed face down.


    She bent down, hands on her knees, panting with her eyes wide opened. Arcturus approached her, moaning and licking her bloodied fingers.


    ¡°By the Morningstar¡­ What¡­ What have I done?¡± she said. Her hands started to tremble, and the knife dropped.


    ¡°Alana,¡± Kassius muttered, his eyes wide open, staring at her, then swallowed.


    She shook her head. Kassius was even paler than before, then he fixed his eyes on the bodies on the floor. Blood still dripped from his shoulder.


    ¡°Kassius, let¡¯s go!¡± she said, untying her scarf. Kassius blinked many times and seemed to finally wake up from his shock.


    ¡°A¡­ Ala¡­ You killed him.¡±


    ¡°I...¡± Alana felt for a second that those words carried the biggest weight in the world. She stepped back and looked into the stars above.


    ¡°Caius? What¡¯s going on!¡± She heard an Itruschian man behind the fence, and she turned, startled.


    Suddenly, Kassius grabbed her hand and pulled her. They both ran with all their strength, Arcturus following them closely. Kassius walked to the fence and pushed one of the iron bars. A secret passage. It gave in easily, and he crawled outside, pressing down on his shoulder with his right arm. Alana followed, and both rushed into a dark alley. They stopped at the edge of the street, where Alana looked back. They glanced at the fenced property, where a third soldier ran through the field and knelt at the two fallen soldiers¡¯ sides.


    ¡°Oh, gods!¡± Kassius said. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    Suddenly, Arcturus rushed forward, opening his mouth and letting out a bark.


    ¡°Hold it, boy, hold it,¡± Kassius knelt beside Arcturus, holding his mouth.


    The soldier looked at the darkness, where the sound was coming from.


    Alana and Kassius looked at each other.


    ¡°Alana¡­ I trained him to run into the forest when hunting...¡±


    ¡°To run? Kassius, you¡¯ll be sending him to his death. Keep him with us.¡±


    ¡°Alana. We may die if they find us.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just go, and let¡¯s release him whenever it¡¯s safe.¡±


    ¡°The whole army will be on our heels. Ala, we just killed a man.¡±


    ¡°Kassius. I did. You¡¯re innocent.¡±


    ¡°No. We were both there, I cannot just...¡±


    ¡°We can also pretend I¡¯m kidnapping you.¡±


    ¡°No. Alana, I don¡¯t want to put you at risk.¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t want to risk you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m a citizen.¡±


    ¡°But if you¡¯re a traitor, you may suffer even a worse fate than I. Kasha. Let¡¯s just be together. Let¡¯s be strong.¡±


    Kassius stood up.


    ¡°I am sorry, but we must. Come on, boy,¡± he said, calling Arcturus to his side.


    They walked stealthily through the round houses. Alana could still hear snoring soldiers and occasionally weeping and wailing.


    They crossed the narrow rocky paths where drowsy guards patrolled through the night. They walked in stealth, then pressed their backs against the walls to avoid being seen. When they reached the edge of the forest, Kassius sent Arcturus into the woods. Alana prayed for the dog to be safe, and soon, they rushed up the hill until they could see Elder Aranus¡¯ small rock hut. A light still shone through the rocky windows, and the grey smoke from the chimney still escaped shyly.


    ¡°It¡¯s up there¡­¡± Kassius whispered through his teeth.


    Alana fixed her eyes on the door. Although it was dark, she could see a vague human shadow posted nearby.


    ¡°And it¡¯s guarded,¡± Alana said, then turned back to face Kassius. ¡°What should we do?¡± she asked, expecting an answer.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re the creative one,¡± Kassius muttered.


    ¡°Let me think,¡± she said, scratching her chin. ¡°We can¡¯t pretend to be beggars and just walk in, can we? I mean, let¡¯s get closer and see whether it¡¯s one guard or more. We can maybe take him down.¡±


    Kassius took a deep breath and nodded. He took the carbon pen from his bag and started marking a sigil on his hands; a serpentine letter, and some elastic signs.


    ¡°What is this one for?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Not be heard, and not to be followed.¡±


    Alana cleared her throat.


    ¡°Kassius, with all due respect, are you sure you are doing them right?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°I mean,¡± she tried to choose her words carefully, but there was no other way to say it. ¡°I think they¡¯re not working.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean they¡¯re not working?¡±


    ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t exactly pass unnoticed. Someone caught you.¡±


    ¡°Alana, they work, the sigils work,¡± he stated, raising his voice.


    ¡°But, you saw...¡±


    ¡°They work, okay? You just have to believe in them. Don¡¯t break our astral connection or they will not work any more.


    Alana clanked her teeth. She knew from his tone of voice she could not change his mind about it at that time. Maybe he would see for himself.


    ¡°Sure, sure. I believe you,¡± Alana said. ¡°Sorry, I just... thought, maybe you can correct them or something.¡± He did put a lot of importance on those things. She could not complain that they wasted her time or anything, but they did not seem to be that useful either.


    ¡°Correct them? Alana, I¡¯ve been studying this my whole life.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, draw it on me. It¡¯s fine, let¡¯s just get done with this before the guard sees us.¡±


    ***


    The young soldier sat with his back toward the door, his eyes shut, his head tilting back and forth, as if between the world of the vigilant and that of the dreaming. Alana stopped behind a tree, from where she could see both the side view of the house and the soldier¡¯s position. Kassius kept walking backwards up the hill, circling around the house. She paused for an instant. From there, above the boulder and at the top of the hill, she could see her own home. The roof was completely gone except for the concrete ring that surrounded the chimney and the furnace¡¯s exhaust tube, and no light shone on the inside. She felt a deep sorrow fill her chest and stared at the ground for an instant.


    When she looked back up, Kassius was peeking from the other side of Aranus¡¯ house, making a face.


    Alana nodded and went on with the plan, crouching steadily, stepping on her tiptoes, as she approached the snoring soldier with her scarf in hand. She leaned her back on the wall, ready to continue. Then, both her and Kassius could see each other again, a few feet away from the soldier, and they approached slowly, one on each side, until they stood right behind him.


    What an exciting moment! Alana grasped the scarf tightly, ready to use it. How she wished Gitara was there to see how stealth and jumpscaring people had become useful in a life or death situation.


    She took one more step with the side of her foot, careful not to make a sound.


    And a branch broke under her boot. She shut her eyes.


    The soldier woke up, stiffening his body, looking around and grasping the hilt of his sword.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he screamed in the stillness of the night.

 Chapter XVI - A Life for a Life

    Aranus thought that was it. His last day on earth.


    The centurion had sat in front of him again, eyes fixed, and had told him he was going to die.


    ¡°So be it,¡± Aranus had said, between defiant and resigned to face his final destiny.


    The centurion did not like that response. He slapped him again, making his head turn and the bones of his neck clank.


    ¡°If I die,¡± Aranus muttered through the pain. ¡°Your men will die. The women will not be in peace. Vengeance will triumph.¡±


    ¡°What a joke. What can a group of women do against the Legion that is keeping the world in place? That will only mean more deaths on their side,¡± the centurion scoffed and stood up.


    The centurion sat back in the corner without saying another word, and he leaned his head back and yawned. His comrade had fallen asleep sitting next to Aranus, but Aranus could not sleep. The pain still pulsated through his chest and abdomen, through his tied wrists.


    But the lamps went off, the centurion lay down over the old couch and started snoring immediately. Aranus closed his eyes again.


    His spirit anguished, but not for physical pain. He felt the weight of a hundred innocent men dying. Their limbs torn, their blood splattered. He envisioned their souls ascending to the abode of the fallen.


    While their women mourned around him.


    What was all that for? What had the gods planned? Was that the end of his people? Was that the destiny they had prepared for them?


    As the hours went by, Aranus¡¯ mind became more restless. He begged the gods for clarity, for a vision. He had been preserved for a reason which he could not fathom.


    And suddenly, he heard the clanking of metal armour approach, slow steps in the darkness, and the faint reflection of steel armour.


    The figure approached slowly, and Aranus looked up, mind blank.


    The figure knelt in front of him, reached for his bound arms and untied them. Aranus felt the soft relief of his wrists being released, then his torso.


    At his side, the centurion woke from his slumber for an instant, and lifted his body, mumbling something.


    The figure spoke softly. ¡°Got to tie him up again, it was all loose.¡±


    The centurion shut his eyes, to fade to black again.


    After the man had released him. He ordered Aranus to follow him outside. Aranus felt that his strength had left him. His liberator extended a hand and helped him out of the house, where the moon shone like a silver sun, almost full, and a cold wind made him shiver and clench his teeth.


    The soldier quickly covered Aranus¡¯ shoulders with a long coat.


    ¡°Come this way!¡± the soldier announced, guiding him down the stairs. He looked way taller than before, and his accent was not Itruschian.


    Aranus followed him down, out from the dark city streets, into the dark grove.


    ¡°We''re not far,¡± the armoured man said. Aranus noticed that the helmet fit him a little too big. His shoulder pads were loose, and the skirt of his tunic was quite short.


    ¡°Where are you taking me?¡± Aranus asked.


    ¡°To freedom.¡±


    As Aranus walked out of the path, he noticed a human body in underwear. It contorted quietly, shivering. It was the soldier that was guarding the entrance before; now, his face was muffled, and his wrists were tied. He felt pity as the man trembled under the freezing moon.


    As they walked into a sloppy clearing, Aranus noticed a hooded figure kneeling before a small fire fed by sticks and fallen branches.


    ¡°Sit there,¡± the soldier said in his familiar voice, and Aranus sat with crossed legs in front of the fire. The soldier removed his helmet. It was Kassius, with a protective stave on his forehead.


    ¡°Ala, I told you the sigil would work.¡±


    ¡°By the Morningstar,¡± the hooded person responded with a girly voice. ¡°I almost died waiting in here. I¡¯m so happy you made it.¡±


    Aranus smiled, looking at his grandson.


    ¡°So it was you?¡±


    ¡°Grandfather!¡± Kassius also revealed a wide smile when he looked back at him. Then, he pointed at the girl. ¡°Meet my wife,¡± Kassius pointed at the hooded figure.


    ¡°I''m not your wife.¡± The girl uncovered her head, blond hair like a sunflower at dusk. It was the goldsmith''s daughter.


    ¡°Well, you better keep telling them you are, or they''re gonna catch you,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°It''s not as if they''re not trying already,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Kasha,¡± Aranus said, unable to hide his smile. ¡°It''s you. What in the world are you doing here?¡± Aranus asked.


    ¡°We needed to free you,¡± Kassius said, squatting next to the fire. In the segmented iron armour, he looked exactly like his father


    ¡°Let me see your wrists,¡± The girl reached for Aranus¡¯ hands. Aranus himself had not seen them, but the dim pain had prevailed. The skin of his wrists was lacerated, revealing red spots of peeled skin.


    ¡°We''ve got to take care of this,¡± she said, holding his hand with her cold fingers.


    ¡°I am fine.¡± He retracted his hand. ¡°I am glad to see you both, that you are fine and alive. But I have to go back. If I don''t, this may be catastrophic.¡±


    ¡°But grandfather,¡± Kassius said. ¡°We cannot let them hurt you.¡±


    ¡°Kassius. It¡¯s not the time. I must protect our people.¡±


    Kassius swallowed and looked at the ground.


    ¡°But he is hurting you, Grandfather. I¡­ I cannot allow that,¡± he said.


    ¡°You must leave me. I love seeing you. I know you have become a great man and that the gods are favouring you. I feel it in my bones. What are you looking for, Kasha?¡± Aranus looked at Kassius in the eye. ¡°What can I tell you that you need to know?¡±


    ¡°Grandfather... Alana and I...¡±


    ¡°Are you getting married?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I mean. No... But we have to pretend...¡±


    ¡°Kasha! Don''t waste more time,¡± Alana said. ¡°Tell him what we need to talk about.¡± The blonde girl¡¯s face was as red as an apple.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Kassius cleared his throat. ¡°Yes, so...¡±


    Alana interrupted Kassius'' speech and sat in front of him. She was eager to ask.


    ¡°I was with the women who were captured this morning,¡± she said. ¡°I heard you talk about the Sword of Ares, and of the Sun of Ares. That it is coming. We want to find the sword.¡±


    ¡°The sword...¡± Aranus'' eyes opened wide.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Kassius said. ¡°Where can we find it?¡±


    ¡°The sword...¡± Aranus¡¯ mind wandered. Myriad images passed through his soul so quickly he could not grasp them. A powerful energy took over his soul, and he spoke. ¡°What once was may return. The fire may burn, and the war for the future will begin in these very woods. Here!¡± He stated, he shook his head, as the realization had come too quickly.


    He remembered the prophecy. He remembered when he heard the words of the Oracle of Venus fifteen years before. But what was the Goddess fearing? Had it been the massacre of his people? What did those words mean?


    He remembered and he shuddered. It was all coming together, reflecting inescapable destiny.


    ¡°What does it mean? Please, Elder, speak clearly to us,¡± Alana begged.


    Aranus reached for the girl''s pale and cold hand as well as Kassius'' calloused fingers. He joined them together.


    ¡°The Sword of Ares is in this land. Our race crossed these woods before its journey. It''s secrets permeate this world. What once was has become again, and so it will. If I am correct, it lies in the entrails of the earth. You must find it.¡±


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The girl shook her head, as if in disbelief.


    Aranus blinked.


    ¡°Kassius. I cannot say any more. My dreams overwhelm me. I am confused. But... Look for the sacred texts and the gates to the entrails of the earth. They have the answer.¡±


    ¡°Texts?¡± The girl raised an eyebrow. ¡°Isn''t that something Itruschians and Parzhians do? We Gadalians don''t text.¡±


    ¡°You are right,¡± Aranus said. ¡°But that is precisely our problem. We have forgotten. We have forgotten our origin. We do not even know the gods. Dreams and visions may come to me, but their meaning is foggy, for my knowledge is incomplete. Even the Itruschians, the Mudrayans, they have forgotten who they are. Even the memory of the gods. Our cosmic gods, the legends inherited, sometimes the figures of the gods mix, we do not know which is which, where is the All-father, who is the Rider of the Chariots of the Sky, which of the gods of the legends is the Red Sun, who is the Green Sun?¡±


    ¡°But what about the texts?¡± Kassius asked. ¡°Where did they come from? You know Gadalians don¡¯t write. Or they haven¡¯t done it for some time.¡±


    ¡°These texts were recited to a half-breed, a century ago. They have the record of our forefathers, and the legends thereof. They are written in Hellenian, which you know, I believe.¡±


    ¡°Where are they?¡± Kassius asked solemnly.


    ¡°They lie underneath the temple. They will tell you all you need to know. Look for the sacred texts. It is as close as you will get to the answer you are looking for.¡±


    ¡°Use your clairvoyance! Please.¡±


    ¡°The gods have called you; of that I have no doubt. Of where the Sword is, I cannot tell.¡±


    ¡°Tell us about the sword,¡± Alana said. ¡°Please explain it to us.¡±


    ¡°What do you want to know?¡± Aranus muttered.


    Alana had a hand on her face.


    ¡°That means he came here... To Adachia...¡± she said.


    ¡°I believe so, yes,¡± Aranus answered. ¡°It was one of the reasons the gods led me to these lands to settle after the war. But make no mistake, that battle was fought all across the land. Down here and up in the sky.¡±


    ¡°I have heard about it. But¡­ Here? How far should we travel to find it? Elder¡­ What do you see? Are we going to find it? Please ask in visions. Please tell us whether it¡¯s us.¡±


    Aranus closed his eyes tightly. He prayed to receive clarity. A flash of understanding. But nothing came to him. Nothing clear.


    ¡°I have been moved to say that it will be found. But that is all I know,¡± he said.


    ¡°Then we have to look for those texts, you say? From the sanctuary?¡± Kassius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes, in them you shall find the legends and the words.¡±


    He looked around as a sense of danger overwhelmed him.


    ¡°Kasha. Let¡¯s get back,¡± Aranus said. ¡°The centurion may wake up at any time.¡±


    ¡°But grandfather...¡±


    ¡°Kassius, he is right,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Please, my son,¡± Aranus continued. ¡°If they find out I am out of the house, things may go wrong for you two. And for many more.¡±


    Kassius dropped to his knees, then lunged forward and hugged his grandfather tightly. He pressed his cheek against his long white hair.


    ¡°I do not want to lose you. This¡­ This has to stop.¡±


    ¡°Be calm,¡± Aranus held his hand onto his grandson¡¯s armoured back. ¡°The gods know the path. They have preserved both of you. Now, you must stand together. As brave as you have been, you must remain.¡±


    ¡°Grandfather¡­ Please, stay with us.¡±


    Kassius shut his eyes, holding the tears. He released his grandfather and stood up, helping him to his feet.


    ¡°I may see you later. But now, it is dangerous!¡± Aranus said. Then, he faced Alana again. ¡°And you, brave girl. You remind me of your mother.¡±


    ¡°My mother?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Yes. Ileria, how can I forget her? She was a great warrior.¡±


    Alana sighed.


    ¡°That¡¯s one of the reasons my father doesn¡¯t like to talk about her,¡± Alana said, opening her eyes wide.


    ¡°He loved her with all his soul,¡± Aranus said.


    ¡°I bet he did. He can¡¯t even get himself to talk about it. He hasn¡¯t gone over it even after fifteen years.¡±


    The girl¡¯s eyes shifted away from him in a sudden burst of sadness. Aranus could be sure Alan had also died the day before.


    ¡°She would be proud of you both. They both would.¡±


    ¡°So did you know my mother well?¡± Alana raised her head, then wiped the tears on her cheeks.


    ¡°Of course I did. I joined them in marriage. I blessed you when you were born. I officiated your mother¡¯s funeral.¡±


    ¡°You buried her weapons?¡±


    ¡°I did?¡±


    ¡°W-what was her favourite?¡±


    ¡°She fought even after marriage, which is unusual, leading a company of mounted lancers. Her circumstances were special. But she liked swords. She preferred to wield two lunar blades Alan had made for her.¡±


    ¡°I heard that, that she was still fighting before she had me,¡± Alana said with a melancholic smile. ¡°So a lunar blade, that means he made a dragonblade for himself, and a lunar blade for her.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Aranus sighed. He looked at the sky through the trees, and the forest below. The sun would come out shortly. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been a pleasure to see you. Let us not waste more time.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Kassius said, he put the helmet on and walked into the forest, and Alana followed them closely. Kassius guided Aranus up, and as they walked closer to the village, Aranus noticed the half-naked guard lying between the bushes.


    Alana pulled Kassius¡¯ sleeve, and he paused as he looked at the body in the floor.


    ¡°And what about him?¡± Alana asked.


    Kassius looked from side to side, confused.


    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t think about that.¡±


    Aranus narrowed his eyes.


    Alana and Kassius looked at each other.


    ¡°So?¡± Alana whispered.


    ¡°Should we...¡± Kassius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I think we should.¡± Alana looked at the body and started chewing on her nails.


    Kassius knelt beside him. He blinked and extended his hand, palm open.


    ¡°Wait,¡± he said, looking at her. ¡°If we kill him¡­ They will surely notice something went wrong.¡±


    ¡°What if we suggest he killed himself?¡±


    ¡°How would we make them arrive at that conclusion?¡±


    ¡°Maybe grandfather could tell them.¡± Kassius looked at him.


    ¡°Me?¡± Aranus blinked in surprise.


    Suddenly, the body turned swiftly, and the man lifted his torso, trying hard to speak through Alana¡¯s scarf.


    Kassius unsheathed the soldier¡¯s own sword. The moonlight shone over its blade, and Kassius swallowed. Then, he stared at Aranus, as if begging him for an answer.


    ¡°Kassius,¡± Alana broke the silence. ¡°Do it. He¡¯s one of them.¡±


    ¡°But so is my father,¡± Kassius said to her.


    Kassius knelt down and removed the scarf.


    ¡°You bastards!¡± As soon as the soldier got his chance, he screamed like a madman, and both Alana and Kassius rushed to hold his mouth closed.


    ¡°Keep quiet or we slice your throat,¡± Kassius said, but he did not seem sure.


    ¡°I¡­ Alright, alright,¡± the soldier whispered, closing his eyes.


    Kassius pointed the dagger at his muscular neck.


    ¡°Now¡­ You¡¯re going to swear,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Kassius, what are you doing?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Name and rank. Kassius said. And why did you attack our people?¡±


    ¡°Just a lowly foot soldier. My name is Felix Germanicus. I¡­ I don¡¯t know, we were told we were here to suppress a rebellion. Something about a cult. The Mysteries of Ares.¡±


    ¡°The what?¡± Kassius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes! I was just following orders. You can kill me now. I prefer to die here than to be hung. My mother would never get the service money.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to kill you,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Do whatever you want with me.¡± The soldier tilted his head back. He took a deep breath. Aranus could see tears forming in his eyes.


    ¡°So? Kassius? Basic mathematics, if we kill our enemies we win.¡± Alana stared at him.


    The soldier started to cry like a child.


    ¡°Do whatever you want. Kill me now.¡±


    ¡°Why are you crying?¡± Kassius asked.


    ¡°I just want it all to end. I wanted¡­ My mother¡­ Tell her I loved her. She is Demetra Germanica, lives in the Capital, 25th Romulus Street. And please¡­ In my pockets, there¡¯s a small book.¡±


    Aranus felt Kassius¡¯ hand in the pocket of the soldier¡¯s coat. Kassius removed his hand, holding a small tome.


    ¡°It¡¯s poetry,¡± Felix continued. ¡°Give it to Domitia, my fianc¨¦e.¡±


    Kassius cleared his throat.


    ¡°I am ready.¡± Felix shut his eyes, his face still contorted in a grimace of fear.


    Kassius held the knife close to Felix¡¯s neck, who in turn took a deep breath, as if calming down before an imminent destiny.


    ¡°Well,¡± Kassius said. ¡°As father said. In war, it¡¯s to kill or to be killed.¡±


    Silence engulfed them.


    ¡°And...¡± Kassius blinked. ¡°What if we don''t kill you?¡±


    Felix opened his eyes in surprise and glanced at him. His face was pale, bathed in cold sweat.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Kassius put the knife away. ¡°What if we don''t kill you?¡±


    ¡°Kasha, what are you talking about?¡± Alana elbowed him lightly.


    ¡°I mean, he hasn''t done anything. He was just following orders.¡±


    ¡°So? He''ll keep on following orders. And he will be ordered to kill us sooner or later,¡± Alana said.


    Kassius stared at the man from above.


    ¡°Do you swear that you will not go after us?¡± Kassius said.


    Felix took another deep breath.


    ¡°I do. I... I am tired of this. It used to make sense. It doesn''t anymore.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Kassius said, and reached for the rope that held Felix. He untied it promptly, and Felix stretched his arms.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Felix said.


    Kassius didn''t say anything but quickly removed his armour and handed it to Felix, who got dressed immediately.


    Only one thing was missing. Aranus observed their reaction.


    ¡°Where''s my sword?¡± Felix asked.


    ¡°Alright...¡± Kassius said, looking at it. It could be a big mistake. No one in their right minds would give a sword to the enemy and remain unarmed himself.


    Alana grabbed Kassius'' wrist. They locked eyes. Kassius glanced at the sheathed gladius once more.


    ¡°I trust you, Felix Germanicus¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°What?¡± Alana opened her eyes wide.


    ¡°We granted you your own life. Now, if you are truly a man of honour, you will do the same.¡±


    Felix blinked, perplexed, and stretched his hand to grab the sword. He later tied it with the belt around his waist. Aranus took a step back as Felix fidgeted with the hilt. However, Felix just lowered his head.


    ¡°I thank you for your mercy. I will certainly not forget it,¡± he said.


    Kassius smiled faintly.


    Aranus nodded. His grandson had behaved honourably, even naively, but what had just happened showed that the gods were protecting him. If he had been unlucky, they would already be dead.


    ¡°Now, please take my grandfather to his home,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Me? But...¡±


    ¡°Please...¡±


    Aranus cleared his throat. That, he had not foreseen.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Felix said. ¡°I suppose we won''t see each other any more. Please be safe. I''d advise you to get out of the borders as soon as possible. Next time you may not be as lucky.¡±


    ¡°We understand that,¡± Aranus said. ¡°Farewell, and please take care of my grandfather.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± He faced Aranus. ¡°Sir, please follow me.¡±


    Aranus nodded and followed him up the hill. He could perceive the humility in Felix''s glance, as he had been an inch away from a sure death.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Aranus paused and looked behind him.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Felix asked.


    ¡°Kasha, come here,¡± Aranus signalled his grandson to approach him. His grandson and the girl were already walking down into the forest.


    ¡°Grandfather!" Kassius ran up the hill to see him.


    ¡°My son. Kasha, come closer.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡± Kassius smiled. His body looked much less threatening in the linen toga. His neck was skinny and bony, his Adam''s apple visible, and his arms were skinny like branches. He was still a boy, but Aranus was sure of his greatness. By his side, his now wife not only had a fragile dream-like beauty, but the strength of will that the young lady possessed was even greater than Kassius''. Not quite like Alan the Goldsmith''s, but more like his late wife. There was something war-like in her, not violent, but brave like a wild lioness.


    Aranus put his hand through Kassius'' short brown hair.


    "In the name of the All-father, I confer to you the power. So you may see the things of the gods, may their voices guide you.¡±


    ¡°Hail,¡± Kassius said solemnly, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Aranus felt a surge in his bosom. And, after many long years, tears formed in his eyes.


    ¡°Farewell, my son, and listen, there are secrets in the woods, look for the menhirs,¡± he said, and followed the soldier up into his destiny, leaving the grove and the trees behind like abandoning Paradise.


    As they approached and the sun rose in the plains beneath, Felix stopped quietly. There was something wrong. Aranus noticed a figure sitting next to the door. He stood quickly with folded arms and an ironic laugh. It was the centurion.


    Felix lowered his head, as the centurion jumped down the stairs and approached them, hand on the hilt of his sword.

 Chapter XVII - Beetroot Soup

    Irema enjoyed the few hours of solitude and prayed for them not to end. She breathed in the vapour of the boiling soup water on the side. The old long hall, with the gold covered table, now deprived of the shining metal as if stripped of its glory, leaving only solid wood, awaited its apprentices like a war widow waiting for her dead husband. The spinning wheels stood orderly over the table, in line like an army preparing for war, or rather, like statues adorning the ruins of a past age. Irema panted, holding an iron knife in hand, her other hand grasped a beet, cutting it into small squares, and then smaller, as a fluid as red as blood soaked the cutting board. The colour of pain, of death. Images rushed through her mind, and she slid her eyes upward as they pierced through her memories like a sharp blade.


    She wished, for a second, that the beet juice was actually blood. Not hers, but someone in particular, someone who came home at sunset every evening.


    Through the window, the sun was setting beyond the dark trees, casting red and violet light on the clouds. She grasped the knife tightly again. The time was close, like inescapable fate.


    She let out a cry, she tensed her fist and waved the knife at the air, stabbing an imaginary foe. She had a picture in her mind. That man, that monster who had forced his way into her life, the man the world called her husband, his comrades called Helius, and she called hell on earth. Many other women had yielded, many, perhaps as a defensive instinct, had accepted their fate.


    But not her. Her love for Karus still burnt like a raging sun within her heart. His dark eyes still sparkled in her dreams, his soft skin and caring hands. But his life had been taken and his blood spilled on the walls of the citadel, and Irema¡¯s heart and body had been offered by force to someone else.


    She lowered her head, hands still on the handle, and she wept.


    The sky grew ever darker, and hell was soon to come. He would push her around like a mule, he would get angry like a raging bull, he would yell and grab her by the hair and hurt her, and use her, and break her dreams. The only thing that kept her from bursting out and lashing out was her mother. Zita was wise, she had gone through a lot, she had fought and killed in her day, and had told her it was not worth it. Wasn¡¯t it? Was living through hell acceptable?


    The soup water boiled, the steam escaped from above. She grabbed the beet cubes and threw them inside. She wished she had other ingredients, she thought of a peculiar red mushroom that could give visions to the pure, but to the evil, it could give a slow and painful death. But no, she was trapped, like a beast inside a cage.


    She looked at the tall mirror behind her with its silver frame with stylized silver swans on each side, and she examined her own reflection, the bruises that crossed through her forehead, the dry blood on her lips, the blood on her hands.


    And the banging at the door started.


    She rolled her eyes, looked back at the bedroom, the bunk beds she used to share with her friends, now empty, and she thought of pretending she was asleep. No, she knew what he would say, and worst of all, what he would do.


    ¡°Open, woman!¡± Helius yelled from behind the blue door. ¡°Don¡¯t make me wait in my own home!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m coming,¡± she said, cursing in her mind. Hell was about to break lose again.


    She opened the door, and Helius violently pushed it completely open. Irema instinctively stepped back.


    Helius stepped in without looking at her. He had learned to avoid the small door frame, and now ducked before stepping in. He hung his galea and coat on the side and yawned. He smelled of alcohol and urine, as always.


    Irema turned her head away and walked back to the flames and the bronze cauldron where the soup awaited. She stirred it with a spoon of bronze.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you gonna ask how my day was?¡± Helius¡¯ rough voice broke the stillness. Soon, Irema felt his hands running through her unruly hair. She felt his odour close in. He wrapped her hair around his fist, pulled lightly, and smelled it like a desert flower.


    Irema kept her lips pressed.


    ¡°What is this?¡± he spewed, tossing her long hair back to her shoulders. He looked inside the cauldron then lifted his head, almost pushing her to the side with his shoulders.


    ¡°I had a long day and food is not ready, again!¡± His screams echoed in the room. He turned and dropped down on the couch, scratching his inner thigh.


    Irema lowered her head and looked away.


    ¡°Sir, I am sorry,¡± she muttered. ¡°But you came earlier than usual, I just...¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Helius jumped to his feet and strode toward her again. He stood next to her ear and yelled. ¡°You bitch, when will you learn? Why did I have to get such a stupid woman?¡±


    Irema took a deep breath. The knife was still in her left hand. She envisioned it. It would be easy, wouldn¡¯t it? Drive it through his neck.


    ¡°And I have to send your disgusting mother away every day, so she doesn¡¯t spoil the mood. You are sweet and tight, but by Jupiter, you¡¯re dumb.¡±


    Irema kept breathing deeply.


    ¡°Are you gonna say something, or are you mute as well?¡± Helius went on, his spit sprinkling over Irema¡¯s face.


    ¡°I am sorry,¡± she muttered, emotionless.


    Helius growled like a cat, then turned and slapped her. Irema¡¯s head turned, her neck pained, and she faced back.


    ¡°How long till the soup is done?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s just not done, I just put the beets and turnips in a few minutes ago. It will take some time. I understand you are hungry, but please, I am trying to make good, nice, tasty food for you.¡±


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    ¡°What the hell, you don¡¯t even know how to cook, and you make me wait like this?¡±


    Helius stared at the soup then looked back at her. ¡°But you know what? Maybe if it will take a few minutes we can make better use of the time.¡±


    Helius run his hard fingers through her hair, then grasped her head tightly.


    ¡°Come on, you know you like this, woman.¡± One of his hands went straight to her thigh. He grabbed it, and she twitched.


    Irema blinked, her face was motionless, expressionless.


    It would have to be quick and easy. Irema looked straight at him, and her mind escaped her body once again.


    Once again, she would let her instincts run through.


    And they did.


    She held the knife tightly, waited a second, and thrust it toward his neck.


    She shut her eyes, but she did not hear his moans of pain, nor did she feel the tearing of his flesh. Her hand had stopped through its trajectory, stopped by someone else¡¯s. When she opened her eyes, she realized she had lost that game. Helius held her pale hand tightly, too strongly she clenched her teeth in pain as her fingers were crushed against the wooden handle.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing, you snake?¡± Real anger flashed in Helius¡¯ eyes. He twisted her wrist. She let go of the knife and it bounced and clanked on the rocky tiles.


    Helius grabbed her head with both hands, holding complete control of her movement. Irema clenched her teeth and instinctively reached for his hairy arms.


    ¡°What did you think, you nasty little fly?¡± Helius growled. ¡°Did you think you could kill me? You deserve worse, you deserve to really be taught a lesson, you disobedient animal.¡±


    Helius let go of her head and pulled her hair again, drawing her toward the boiling soup.


    ¡°So, take a look at your soup, little one,¡± he made her bend, and she tried to pull back. She could see the boiling water, the potatoes, the carrots, and beets that floated in the bursting bubbles of heat, and she felt the hot steam on her face. ¡°What if we drop another nice ingredient in there. This pretty face, all you have left.¡±


    Irema could not speak, only close her eyes.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s slow cook this little onion,¡± Helius said, and laughed as he slowly pushed her head.


    ¡°No, please!¡± Irema said, as the vapour was becoming unbearable and sweat drifted from her every pore. Tears were about to break through, and the fear overwhelmed her. Her instincts were all flared up, and agony was soon to take over. She pleaded and she begged for mercy, but silently, another instinct pushed through.


    She waved her hands about. She felt heat close to them, and with the back of her palm, she felt the logs underneath the cauldron. One of them was good enough, not too hot, and long enough. With eyes shut tightly, she grasped the cold end with her left hand and, with her eyes closed, she turned it and pushed the hot end back toward Helius.


    It made contact with his flesh. Helius let go abruptly and screamed like a witch. Irema turned. Helius jumped over, looking at his toga. Smoke was coming from it.


    ¡°You dirty bitch!¡± He yelled so loud his voice transformed into an acute shriek.


    He turned toward her with his hands outstretched and a grimace of hate. Irema could see it in his eyes, he was ready to kill.


    Irema turned, and quickly she grasped the hot rims of the cauldron and twisted her body around, throwing the hot boiling soup at his face. For an instant, she was sad for those fat turnips she had found and that had taken so long to peel and slice. Besides, it had been hard to come across good ones.


    Screaming unfolded before her, but instead of pain, it was like music to her ears. A smile formed on her lips. That was justice, she thought.


    But it would not be over.


    Helius reached for her wrists and pulled her back. He pushed her to the wall, his face angrier than ever. She twisted like a fish, kicking him in his now scalded and sensitive legs. He pushed her to the bunk, to the bed below, and she fell through the padded sheets.


    Helius jumped over her, his hands stretched forward, ready to grab her neck and choke her to death. Irema lifted her torso and grabbed his arms, sheet in hand, clasping her limbs around him like a coiled serpent, closing the distance so he would have a hard time using his hands.


    And Helius bit her neck. She moaned in pain and tried in vain to hit him in the temple and the ears.


    One of his hands broke free, but she wrapped a thin bedsheet around his neck with her right, putting one forearm against his neck, pressing with it, and pulled the sheet down towards the opposite side. Helius stuck out his tongue as she pulled and pressed harder. He gasped and his head changed colour, first turning red, his eyes bulging as if they were about to come out, then he shut his eyes and the muscles of his face relaxed. She kept pressing, and the skin of his head turned purple, then blue.


    From that dream, he would not wake up.


    She tumbled the body over, and stood up, staring at the object of her pain and hate, now lifeless, never to come back to that mortal realm. She stared at her hands, now covered in ash and beet juice.


    She blinked.


    What to do now?


    And the banging on the door started again.


    ¡°Helius, are you okay? We heard screams.¡±


    Irema put her hand over her mouth and stared at the door.


    ¡°Helius, come on, friend, we are worrying for you.¡±


    Alana stared at the body. She had to hide it quickly. She pushed it over the edge of the bed, and it tumbled over against the wall, but the wide shoulders could still be seen.


    The banging continued.


    ¡°Man, the door is open, please tell us if we can come in.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Irema screamed. ¡°I¡¯m getting dressed.¡±


    The body was still visible, so she took one of the sheets and put it over. It still looked like somebody was hiding under the blankets, but at least his arm was not visible.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming,¡± she said, and she swallowed dry. Her heartbeat pulsated through her body and she could almost hear it.


    She advanced to the door and opened it a few inches.


    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± a blue-eyed soldier asked.


    ¡°Yes, we had an argument, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°May we come in?¡±


    ¡°Don, I heard him scream,¡± the legionary behind his blue eyed companion said, his head was completely shaved and held his galea on his arm.


    ¡°Let us in,¡± the first one said. ¡°Let us in unless Helius himself says no.¡±


    ¡°I mean...¡± Irema looked back, the soup soiling the ground, potatoes and beets all over, and the hidden body behind the bed.


    ¡°Woman, let us in, we have the authority to check if anything looks suspicious,¡± the blue-eyed soldier raised his voice.


    ¡°Understood,¡± she nodded. She opened the door and both soldiers stepped in, eyes wide open and scanning the place.


    ¡°What happened here?¡± the soldier said, eyeing the vegetables on the floor.


    ¡°We had an argument,¡± Irema said, lowering her head, fidgeting with her hair.


    ¡°Well half the block could hear that,¡± the bald soldier asked. ¡°Now, where is he?¡± The soldier lifted his head and narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°He...¡± Irema looked around, bringing her nails to her lips as the first soldier advanced toward the bed.


    He reached for the sheets and pulled them lightly. Irema bit her fingernails.


    ¡°What is this?¡± his companion said, scared. ¡°Is this blood?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s beet juice!¡± Irema announced.


    The bald soldier ran his finger through the mess.


    ¡°This be tasting real good!¡± he said lifting his bald head.


    ¡°Really?¡± the blue-eyed soldier let go of the sheets and strode toward them.


    ¡°Yes, have you tried it before?¡± the bald one asked.


    ¡°No,¡± the blue-eyed soldier looked at Irema, his expression had changed. ¡°Where is your husband?¡±


    ¡°He...¡± Irema cleared her throat. ¡°He went to the market to buy more vegetables. He was really hungry and said he did not want the scene to ruin his appetite, and he said he wanted the same soup to be made again.¡±


    ¡°So the market,¡± the bald one scratched his chin. ¡°So you will make more soup for him, won¡¯t you? Make extra for us, we¡¯ll pass by after our patrol time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a pleasure,¡± Irema lifted her chin and faked a smile.


    ¡°Alright,¡± the blue eyed one looked around. ¡°Say hello to him from us, see you later.¡± Both men marched outside, and she shut the door behind their backs. She sighed.


    Now, what could she do about the body? And how could she tell mother without putting her at risk?

 Chapter XVIII - The Sacred Texts

    Sleeping in the forest was not enjoyable, especially with rocks permanently pressing against her neck. When Alana finally managed to sink into a deep slumber the second night after their escape, she dreamed her father had been taken captive. Waking up suddenly, she felt worse, and the pain in her neck and back pulsated through her, making her clench her teeth.


    She crouched and wept in silence, holding her coat tightly. Kassius snored next to her, his mouth open and saliva dripping. She grimaced. Good thing he was not her real husband.


    She took a deep breath. Her stomach roared, but nothing hurt as much as her soul.


    She shut her eyes and wiped her tears. A light pierced through the trees above her.


    Like a joke. What did the gods want? The gods must be crazy, she thought.


    Kassius snored loudly, and s he staggered to her feet, restless. Suddenly, she heard a murmur between the bushes. She fidgeted with the hilt of the knife under her belt and swallowed.


    She stood still, knife in hand, as Kassius moved next to her, giving a long sigh and opening his eyes. He looked around, confused.


    "Good morning, Ala.¡± He turned, supported his weight on one arm, and smiled.


    "Shh...¡± She gave him a freezing glance. Kassius seemed to understand immediately as he scrambled to his feet and stood behind her, as if needing her protection.


    Alana breathed slowly, trying hard to discern the sound that came from the trees.


    Somebody was breathing heavily.


    She held the knife forward and advanced stealthily in reverse, pressing with the edge of her heels and moving slowly.


    They''d better run.


    "Let''s run,¡± she said, turning around quickly.


    She heard a scream from behind. She swallowed and turned her head slowly. A small body was looking at her, eyes wide open, face dusty, and bruises on his cheeks and forehead.


    "Tor...¡± She stared at him with eyes wide-open, as the boy ran toward her and wrapped her in his arms. She returned the gesture. "My gods... What happened to you?¡±


    Alana looked into his blue eyes, and he gesticulated how he had been beaten, but not killed, and had run away.


    ¡°Gods... I don''t know what we should do. What do you think, Kassius?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you''re safer with us around. We''re going to do some really dangerous stuff. I say you go back,¡± he said to the boy.


    The boy shook his head, determined.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going back there?¡± she interpreted.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, kid,¡± Kassius said, crossing his arms.


    ¡°He says he¡¯d rather be dead than go back,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Kassius said. ¡°But you¡¯ve got to be careful around us.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to help us? I¡¯d say you just remain in the back,¡± Alana said. ¡°Fine. You want to help? You may.¡±


    ¡°Alana,¡± Kassius said sternly.


    ¡°He wants to help, he will,¡± Alana winked at Kassius.


    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous for him.¡±


    ¡°And dangerous for us,¡± Alana said with her hands on her waist.


    Kassius shook his head.


    ¡°What are you talking about? He¡¯s a nine-year-old!¡±


    ¡°Eleven!¡± Alana corrected him, tilting her head. ¡°And we¡¯re fifteen and sixteen. I¡¯m not talking about telling him to stab people in their sleep but, you know. He can help.¡±


    Kassius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯ll see.¡±


    Alana and Kassius paid attention to Tor¡¯s lips. He wanted to tell them something.


    ¡°Father? Your father?¡± she asked.


    ¡°He says they killed him,¡± Kassius completed the thought.


    ¡°I understand him, Kassius. So¡­ You want to do what to them?¡± Alana was surprised at the furious desire for vengeance. ¡°Well, now. Let¡¯s just get some food! I¡¯m starving. You¡¯re also hungry, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get something to eat,¡± Kassius said, unfolding his bow and proceeding it to string it.


    ***


    There was nothing to hunt in that part of the forest, and if there was it hid well. Their hunger increased every hour, and no fruit nor mushrooms were found in those hours.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Alana said, sitting next to the cold creek with her arm around Tor¡¯s shoulders. She sighed. ¡°What do you suggest, Kassius? Should we wait for night rats to come out?¡±


    Kassius sighed and shook his head. Alana knew Kassius well; he did not want to talk. He sat under a birch and took out a small scroll from his bag. Alana refrained from asking but stared at Kassius in silence.


    Suddenly, she realized Tor was not with her anymore. She jumped to her feet and looked around.


    ¡°Tor?¡± she said. She noticed bubbles in the creek below and the sudden splashing of water. ¡°Kasha! I think Tor fell into the water!¡±


    Kassius got up and dropped the scroll. He ran to the creek.


    ¡°Tor! Please respond! Kassius, rescue him!¡± Alana said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to swim!¡± he said, his skin going pale.


    ¡°Then! Oh my gods! Poor boy. Life was not fair to him. What should we do?¡± She looked from side to side. She had an idea. She ran to the shore and looked between the bushes. Should she jump into the water? The current was strong. She had already been there, and she almost died. She swallowed. She found water itself frightening.


    She found a solution, and she tore a tree branch and moved to the edge. Tor was moving in a straight line in the water but on his back. Then, he immediately turned, like a tadpole, and he rose up taking a deep breath.


    Tor looked at her and smiled, his head rising and water dripping down from his hair. He paddled with his legs toward the bank. He did not need to be saved after all.


    ¡°Tor! What were you doing down there!¡± Alana said, panting.


    Tor lifted his arms. He held a fish as big as a kitten, it twisted and turned in agony. He calmly swam back to the shore and threw it over the brown grass, then climbed up onto the banks and shook his head like a puppy.


    ¡°Dry yourself off!¡± Kassius handed him his coat, and Tor wrapped it around his shoulders.


    ¡°Amazing!¡± Alana reached for the struggling fish and hastened to grab it in her arms. ¡°Kassius. See? I told you he would be useful. And Kasha, please tell me you brought some spices with you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a cook.¡±


    ¡°Salt?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Nay. Do I look like a cook, Alana?¡±


    ¡°You Itruschians don¡¯t know anything about food,¡± she teased him. ¡°Well, I¡¯m gonna make something nice out of this bad boy.¡±


    ¡°You better,¡± Kassius jumped to his feet. ¡°I¡¯ll light up the fire again for you.¡±


    Alana found a few herbs that had not dried off completely and crushed them in rocks to make seasoning. She prepared the fish and grilled it on the fire. Soon, they devoured it hungrily. And yet, it was not enough to satisfy them, so Tor volunteered to fish some more, and he caught three more fishes that received the same treatment.


    ¡°I feel guilty for eating all the fish so quickly,¡± Kassius muttered with his mouth full.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Alana asked, licking her fingers of the savoury oils.


    ¡°I mean, we should save some for later.¡±


    ¡°If we had salt,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Should we go steal some salt?¡± Kassius wondered, scratching his growing beard.


    ¡°How?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


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    ¡°First, we should resolve about the sacred texts. And what about what Aranus said about the menhirs? I¡¯ve never seen a menhir in the forest, ever.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that,¡± Kassius grabbed the fish¡¯s spine with both hands and scraped it for the last crumbs of meat and swallowed it. He lay down on his back against a tree and yawned. ¡°I think we should go at night.¡±


    A clap rang through their ears. Tor was calling for their attention.


    ¡°What is it, Tor?¡± Alana asked.


    Tor pointed at himself.


    ¡°You want?¡±


    Tor gesticulated; he pointed at himself, then he stretched out his hand and using his fingers, imitated a person walking and retrieving something.


    ¡°No way, boy. We can''t let you do it.¡±


    Tor pointed at him, clenched both fists, put them together, and pulled his right arm back slowly.


    ¡°I think he means you should go with your bow,¡± Alana interpreted.


    ¡°Follow you with my bow and wait for you outside, is that what you mean?¡± Kassius asked.


    Tor nodded.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s better if we go at night, Alana and me. I don¡¯t want you to get hurt any more than you are now. You know how cruel they are.¡±


    Tor pressed his hands together, as if in prayer.


    That boy was very persistent. Alana had thought she was reckless, but she could not compare with that boy. He wanted to do everything. Maybe Kassius was right, he was so rash he could get in trouble quite easily. She sighed. But at the same time, Kassius and her were fugitives. They had killed soldiers. Tor could still pass by as a normal boy.


    ¡°Kassius. I say we let him go,¡± Alana said. ¡°Anyway, he''s not going into a bandit''s cave or anything. He just wants to sneak into a sanctuary and get some pieces of hemp paper. It''s the easiest thing in the world.¡±


    ¡°Still, it''s not safe,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°What if we ask the gods? You know? Like when we used to go to war, and the Oracle had to tell us first?¡± Alana suggested, wiping her hand of the fish fat with a fallen leave.


    Kassius sighed.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea,¡± Kassius said. He stood up and decided for the most ancient and proven method. He grabbed three sticks, marked one with red ink and put them together in his hand, mixing them and hiding the red side.


    ¡°Goddess of fate, please indicate the right one to go.¡± He held them upright. Alana was the first to draw. It was a normal stick, she sighed in relief.


    The next one to draw was Tor, he lifted it with his skinny but calloused fingers, and Kassius squeezed his lips when he saw the fresh red ink on the tip of the stick.


    But the boy smiled as if he had earned a toy sword.


    If Tor was going to be the one, they had to carry out the operation in open daylight. They walked from their camp toward the hill. From there, they could already see the village and smoking furnaces and chimneys. As they kept moving forward Alana noticed a piece of paper nailed to a tree. She raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°This wasn''t here when we came.¡± Alana narrowed her eyes. ¡°Look. This drawing looks like someone I know. What does it say?¡±


    ¡°Let me see,¡± Kassius approached and examined the sign. He opened his eye wide, as if in shock. ¡°By Saturn''s beard. That''s me?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Alana shook her head.


    ¡°Wanted for treason. Kassius Filus Marius Filusdyapitar. My gods. For a reward of fifty bronze coins.¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± Alana said, horrified.


    ¡°Well,¡± Kassius cleared his throat, then looked back at Alana. ¡°It also accuses you of dishonouring the nation.¡±


    ¡°I don''t care, but... Blast. This is not good.¡±


    Tor stared at them with his hands on his hips.


    ¡°For sure. Now, if my dad finds out, he''s going to kill me with his own hands.¡± Kassius blinked. Alana noticed tears gathering in his eyes.


    Tor cleared his throat. Kassius looked at him and sighed.


    ¡°Well. Better be very careful,¡± he said. ¡°And you''ll let me write magical staves on your chest. You''ll need their protection.¡±


    ¡°Kassius, we talked about that,¡± Alana said with a frown.


    ¡°So what? It worked for me when I went to see Grandfather. Boy, trust me on this one, sigils work.¡±


    ***


    Tor had just been through the worst day of his life. His mother was still in hell, in other words, at the occupied village mill, the place he once called home. Father had died, and Tor could not get himself to see the body. He had not been able to cry but stared at the wooden walls for hours. Three old soldiers had been assigned to take care of the house. They did not know anything about how mills worked, and they broke two of the levers. They did not know how to repair them, either; but the worst part of it was seeing how his mother had been degraded into a slave. She was too old to be of any interest to the soldiers, and him; her miracle child, had been forced to wash the latrine.


    When he sneaked out, a disgruntled soldier caught him and beat him with the broomstick. His bruises still hurt, and it would take days to heal.


    There was nothing he wished more than to stab an Itruschian soldier in the eye and see him twist and turn in pain. He had loved to hear about how Alana killed that soldier. She had saved him. She was incredible. He had always admired her from afar. Her eyes so big and sweet, her hair like rays of sunlight. Her skin like marble. She was perfect, and after hearing about her bravery, he was completely enthralled.


    Tor sighed. He wanted victory. Now, he had a wish. Father had always told him to never yield, that their people were born to be free; that their calling was to help others, like Alana had.


    And Tor swore in his heart that he would do anything to honor his father¡¯s words.


    Kassius and Alana prayed for him, and Kassius drew a bizarre constellation on his chest.


    ¡°You are ready, boy. Take care,¡± Kassius said, he was as tall as a tower. Tor nodded in agreement.


    Tor walked down through the woods to the lowest point of the village where the sanctuary stood, with pillars guarding the wooden walls built in Itruschian style. A soldier patrolled outside, leaning against a pillar, with an iron spear in hand. He seemed distracted, and the gates were wide open.


    He noticed the guard¡¯s eyes drifting toward him. Tor pretended to ignore him and started walking up the stone stairs. As he was about to enter, the guard called him.


    ¡°Hey, you!¡±


    Tor turned. His heart started pounding.


    ¡°Registration,¡± the guard said.


    Tor nodded, putting his hands up. The guard approached swiftly and registered him, then he signalled him to go inside. Tor bowed his head and entered. He sighed in relief as he solemnly passed through the threshold.


    The atmosphere inside was unique, as sacred fires burned in altars of stone, and incense sticks distilled their sacred essence. Aranus stood above the atrium, preceded by stairs and two small pillars, as a procession of women waited for their turn to offer sacrifices and receive blessings. But with all that they had lost in those few days, there was nothing to sacrifice.


    The boy followed the line of devotees, which in turn received a blessing and a word of fortune. When his time came, Tor bowed down at the foot of the staircase, extending his palm, revealing the sign that Kassius had drawn earlier in the day.


    Elder Aranus towered over him from above. He stretched his hand and invited him to walk up. As he did, Aranus drew closer and whispered in his ear:


    ¡°The sacred texts are behind the altar. A secret entrance in the floor.¡±


    Tor nodded graciously and walked down the place. He hid behind a pillar, and then rushed behind the curtain. He found a red carpet with a patterned design; underneath, he found a round entrance made of stone. He could not lift it with the strength of his arms, so he grabbed a spatula from the incense burner and used it as a shovel. It opened, revealing a dark hollow space and a ladder of iron bars stuck to the tunnel.


    Tor did not like the dark. It reminded him of rats and cockroaches. He took a deep breath and stared into the dark abyss. He saw nothing.


    He grasped the iron bars and started to descend. He should have brought a lantern, he thought. The process of going down seemed to take forever, and darkness enveloped him. He scanned the air, looking for sounds that should worry him, like squeaky rats or nasty critters, poisonous centipedes crawling about, or worse; snakes.


    He kept going down. Anyway, he could easily get back. Just ten yards up, and he would be back in the temple.


    He finally reached the bottom and dropped to the floor. The exit above him seemed like another abyss, like a moon made of red tiles.


    He blinked and looked around. Nothing to be seen. He put his hands in the floor. There was only dust, no bugs. As his eyes adapted to the dark, he noticed a small tunnel. Even he had to kneel and crawl until the end. There, he felt the fragile sheets of a bound book with a leather cover. He extracted it quietly. That was it? Not hard a test at all. He put it under his shoulder and climbed up into the temple where the curtain still shielded him against the entrance and the guards. He quickly covered the entrance and took a step outside the curtain, back to where Aranus was standing.


    He climbed down the stairs, the book bulging from inside the cloak.


    Suddenly, his eyes met with those of the guard who was standing next to the door. The guard immediately lunged forward.


    ¡°Hey, kid, stop!¡± the guard yelled.


    Tor panicked and started running the opposite way, as the attendees stopped their solemn march through the atrium to look around. Some of them fell to the ground, covering their heads, fearing another reprisal and massacre.


    Tor rushed to the opposite side, pushing through the distressed old ladies. The soldier made a shortcut by running through the sacred stones, through the circular atrium. Tor ran with all his might, but the soldier caught him and grabbed him by the arm. The book dropped on the floor beneath, and Tor looked up into the soldier¡¯s eyes in terror.


    ¡°You skunk! Do you know what the punishment for stealing is?¡± the soldier said, splattering spit over Tor¡¯s face. ¡°You¡¯re gonna get your hand cut off, that¡¯s what¡¯s gonna happen.¡±


    ¡°What is this!¡± Aranus walked down the stairs, grasping the iron handrail. The guard pulled Tor to his feet.


    ¡°Leave the boy alone,¡± Aranus said. ¡°He is no thief.¡±


    The guard lifted the holy book in his right hand. He stared at its cover. ¡°And what is this?¡±


    ¡°Leave him!¡± Aranus said. ¡°He was not stealing. He is mute but is studying how to read and write. I let him come every week and dust off the library.¡±


    The guard let go and stared down at the boy.


    ¡°You put this back,¡± he screamed at Tor. ¡°If I see you again on my guard, I¡¯m going to have you whipped. Understand?¡±


    Tor nodded, unable to hide his trembling legs.


    Tor walked toward the curtain, pretended to put it back, but instead, put the book under his toga, holding it beneath his lace belt, and then he walked down and headed toward the exit.


    He walked swiftly, turning his back to the side. The attendants to the shrine remained quiet. The soldier walked outside, his armour clanking as he passed, and his eyes fixed on him.


    Tor sighed. He had the book with him. It was time to go back.


    As he was walking through the door. He heard the soldier¡¯s voice again.


    ¡°You bloody skunk!¡±


    Tor¡¯s heartbeat jumped up and he started to run out like a madman. The soldier chased after him. People around him stared in shock as he rushed through the multitude.


    ¡°Thief!¡± the soldier shrieked behind him, but the disheveled women with bruised faces in the street had other things to worry about. Tor quickly turned his head and saw the soldier pushing through them.


    Suddenly, he felt the book¡¯s weight being released from him. He had dropped it. He turned quickly and reached for the floor to grab it, but now the multitude passed by over it, blocking his steps. He looked from side to side and threw himself to the floor. He grabbed it quickly, but the soldier was already a few yards away.


    He started to run again, now through the straw huts. He saw two soldiers sitting on the steps of the late chieftain¡¯s home, drinking from a clay vase, and beyond, the forest of high leafless trees and evergreens. He could not stop.


    He rushed through the last few houses and felt a slight relief as he dashed into the woods, but his persecutor had only gained an advantage. Tor turned around swiftly, the soldier was running incessantly. Suddenly, Tor tripped over a root and crashed down. He turned in terror and had not managed to get up when the soldier was already on top of him, and his calloused hands started pressing against his neck.


    ¡°You thought I was stupid, didn¡¯t you, skunk?¡± The soldier stared at him with evil and hate in his reddened blue eyes.


    He pressed harder, and Tor waved his feet furiously. Tor grasped the soldier¡¯s leather wristbands, trying in vain to take him off. The pain was unbearable, and he desperately gasped for air. Then, he felt strangely relaxed, as his consciousness faded to black.

 Chapter XIX - A Phantom Menace

    After assuring his wife that he was now part of a great commercial endeavour, she agreed to let him partake in his secret mission. And too, Cladius thought, although Larius could be unpredictable, he wasn¡¯t as coldblooded as to kill a fellow Itruschian. She had insisted on going, but against quarrels and endless tears, she had let him go alone. As much as he loved her and had never thought of hurting her, departing felt as a gust of fresh breeze.


    Cladius packed his stuff and was soon gone, riding on an open wooden chariot guided by six horses through the glorious paths that connected the provinces of the Sacred Itruschian Empire. The journey was long, but not without luxuries. Every couple of nights they stayed at wide inns reserved for senators and merchants. He met some people from the East, even some people from a land they called the Middle Kingdom. They looked like how Far Easterners and the Sons of Hunas were always painted, with broad faces and elegant black eyes. Their hair was raven black, straight like a linen dress and tied in buns over their heads. They dressed in the finest silk he had ever seen. Their alphabet was also unusual, made of elaborate markings. The translator that followed him was a Tocharii. The man had reddish-brown hair, and his face was tan and covered by a beard as red as a carrot. His robe was no less exquisite, adorned with buttons of pure gold and intricate engravings, like any Gadalian. When Cladius heard his language, it resembled the one of the Gadalians and other Easterners, and he figured they had to be a related people. Both men chatted amicably through their stay at the place, never loud or uncaring, but disciplined and proud.


    Cladius also met with Ayodhyan delegates, some wearing crowns of pure gold, others with colourful turbans. There, he heard of a religion that had existed for a few hundred years but was starting to spread out. Its participants were seldom merchants, as it preached absolute detachment. Cladius listened, bewildered. The words of the man they worshiped, or rather, revered, resonated with his soul.


    Their monks taught that life was nothing but pain, and pain was caused by the desires of wicked men. If there was less desire and more responsibility, things would be better off. It reminded him of ancient Stoicism.


    During his travels, he seldom interacted with Larius, who shared his disinterest toward drinking. Larius, however, enjoyed the company of women of all nations and kinds, and the inn arranged for him as he desired.


    In one of those quiet evenings, Cladius met one of the solemn men who accompanied Larius in another chariot. A man with a white toga, pale face, and blonde hair. His eyes were blue and small. He sat on the edge of the balcony, examining an old scroll. Larius¡¯ curiosity peaked. The man had not spoken a word since they had met.


    ¡°Excuse me, good sire.¡± Cladius sat on a pillow nearby. ¡°I am afraid we have not been introduced.¡±


    The man seemed to ignore him for a few seconds, or rather, concentrated on finishing the text he was reading.


    Cladius cleared his throat, impatiently. He had expected to meet a gentleman.


    But the man¡¯s blue eyes suddenly turned toward his. The man lifted his head, and his face remained still. Cladius had not noticed the white scar that passed by his cheek. He was definitely a military type. Between the folds of his robes, Cladius caught a glimpse of something even more intriguing. It was a small golden necklace depicting a winged wheel. Inside the wheel, there was a human figure, with extended arms and legs, its details crude but competent. It did not look like an Itruschian motif, nor did it seem Gadalian, although there was something Eastern about it.


    ¡°Florianus Africanus,¡± the man introduced himself.


    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure. I am Cladius Duodecimus.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Florianus responded, and fixed his eyes right back on the scroll.


    Cladius squeezed his lips. Did that man hate him? Did he know who he was?


    ¡°I apologize if I am bothering you.¡± Cladius stood up.


    ¡°No, it is not a problem,¡± Floranius responded. As Cladius turned, he noticed the man had not taken his glance away from the text. ¡°I am a stiff man, if you forgive me.¡±


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    ¡°It is not an issue.¡±


    ¡°This might concern you as well,¡± the man quietly said, lifting his eyes.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Cladius asked.


    ¡°I received this text from a horse-back mailman just a few hours ago. It is urgent.¡±


    ¡°Urgent? Is it coming from the capital or from Tharcia?¡±


    ¡°Tharcia?¡±


    Why would it concern him? he thought.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± The man put the scroll away, then glanced at Cladius solemnly. ¡°We are facing unexpected resistance.¡±


    ¡°Now that is troubling.¡±


    ¡°Plans might change,¡± Floranius said, and for an instant, a faint smile appeared on his thin lips. Next to his scar, it made him look strangely sadistic.


    ¡°What is it? Was there an incident?¡±


    ¡°It says...¡± Floranius cleared his throat. ¡°Two soldiers have been murdered by two traitors. That I¡¯ve known for a few days.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Now there¡¯s another one,¡± he repeated. ¡°A soldier was killed by his wife during his sleep.¡±


    ¡°By his wife?¡± Cladius asked, peeling his eyes.


    ¡°Yes. They found him in bed, lifeless. A blanket had been wrapped around his neck.¡±


    ¡°Did she choke him?¡±


    ¡°I ,¡± Florianus said. ¡°This is upsetting. The soldier in question was a good boy,  good family.¡±


    ¡°It is indeed a gruesome crime,¡± Cladius said ironically. ¡°But how did she escape?¡±


    ¡°She planned it well. She managed to fool two soldiers who even inspected the house. She left for the sanctuary and that was the last time she was seen. Her mother found the body and alerted the authorities.¡±


    ¡°Her own mother? I mean, I¡¯m surprised the citizens remain loyal to the Empire, even in spite of their own families.¡±


    ¡°It smells rotten to me,¡± Florianus scowled. ¡°In any case. This is not acceptable. Back in my day, we would¡¯ve said to hell with it and slaughtered the whole village. Hades! I must suggest that at the committee tonight. To hell with those women. I always knew, their race is warlike, which is good, but¡­ Let¡¯s see what this governor wants to do.¡±


    ¡°My gods...¡± Cladius said.


    ¡°Yes. These women are not to be trusted. You know about the Amazons, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Cladius cleared his throat. He was next to one of those men. The death of a thousand people was nothing to him, but one was a tragedy.


    ¡°I have heard of them, but aren¡¯t they merely legend?¡±


    Florianus¡¯ gaze was stern.


    ¡°Legends? What are legends but dim memories of an ominous past.¡±


    ¡°Well, I have read the great istorian who spoke about them. Are you implying that these women are like Amazons. I mean, they are only women. What can¡­ What could they do to me or you?¡±


    Florianus paused.


    ¡°This has happened before.¡±


    ¡°Before?¡±


    ¡°In the Age of Silver, the Amazons were daughters of Ares. They were cut off from their men. They rose up and built a warrior tribe.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°These women, this race of beings are the descendants of the Amazons. These women suffered the same fate aeons ago, and they lived off war, without men. We are giving birth to a race of Amazons once again, and they will drive us out of their land. When their children are born, in hardship greater than they have ever faced, they will rise up. We must not permit it.¡±


    Cladius remained serious.


    ¡°Excuse me. Amazons? Even if a massive rebellion were to occur in those villages, is it not unlikely that a group of women, unarmed, untrained, rise up in arms and fend off a legion? Even the ones that did fight fifteen years ago are old mothers now.¡±


    ¡°Their blood is the purest warrior blood in the world. They are born for war. I have seen it. Larius made a mistake. He should have wiped the whole race off the face of the earth.¡±


    Cladius remained silent.


    ¡°As much as they have great qualities; they are a threat to our Empire and must be dealt with accordingly.¡±


    Florianus stood up.


    ¡°If you excuse me. I will go and write a report,¡± he continued.


    ¡°No problem,¡± Cladius said, as the man walked back into the villa.


    Cladius sighed.  dominated him. He felt a cold shiver through his spine. He tightened his fists as a surge of disgust made him recoil in awe and fear.


    How could something so hideous be going on? And he was part of it. He felt like a latrine sponge, used and covered in filth. He had to use his power to revert it before something worse happened.

 Chapter XX - The Awakening

    Tor heard a whistling sound, and suddenly, the tension in his neck eased and the blood rushed back. He sat up, coughing violently. Above him, the soldier stumbled back. A long stick protruded from his neck. It was a black arrow with brown feathers at the nock. Blood started pouring from the soldier¡¯s mouth. Soon, another one penetrated the soldier¡¯s back through the plate armour, and the man¡¯s body stiffened as if struck by lightning.


    The soldier kept blinking, agonizing softly, as two figures emerged from the foliage. Kassius was holding his bow and an arrow. Alana advanced next to him, wielding the rusty dagger.


    Within seconds, the soldier¡¯s head crashed against the ground.


    Tor leaned his head against a tree, gasping and caressing his neck. He felt as if his throat had been contracted. His stomach turned inside.


    Alana rushed toward him, her white and red tunic was already stained with dust and mud. Tor smiled like a fool, seeing Alana and how she cared for him felt like coming back home after a long day.


    ¡°Tor, Tor. Good thing we saw you! My gods, hold on,¡± Alana knelt by him and ran her fingers through his hair. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Tor squeezed his eyes.


    ¡°Did he hurt you badly?¡± Alana asked. Her hands slid down and lifted his chin softly, they were warm and soft. She examined him with her blue eyes wide open. Tor could see his reflection in them.


    He nodded. He needed her attention. ¡°Good thing you¡¯re alright,¡± she stood up, her hands let go of him, and she turned her back on him. He wished he could ask her to stay a little more by his side.


    ¡°Boy,¡± Kassius scratched his messy hair, staring at the soldier¡¯s dead body. ¡°Now¡­ What should we do about that?¡± He pointed at it as if it was a piece of decoration he had to get rid of for good taste.


    Alana turned and stood up and looked into Kassius¡¯ eyes.


    ¡°Let¡¯s drag him to the river and let him sink,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°My gods¡­¡± Kassius said, then swallowed. ¡°We killed him. Alright. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Alana said, kneeling beside the body and opening up the winter coat.


    ¡°Look at this.¡± She unsheathed one of the swords the soldier was carrying. It was more like a dagger. Its blade was dark and curved, made of iron. ¡°Amazing. Have you seen one of these before?¡±


    ¡°Never,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°It¡¯s been captured in the East,¡± she said, her eyes glittering with curiosity, running her fingers over it. ¡°I¡¯m sure. This is from Parzhia. It came a long way. Like us. And look at this.¡± Behind the captured sword, the soldier had been carrying his own gladius. She reached for the belt and untied it.


    ¡°My gods!¡± Kassius seemed bewildered. His eyes were wide open, and his face was red, his fingers still tangled between his hair.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m just thinking. I just killed him¡­ I...¡±


    ¡°Yes. You did,¡± Alana muttered


    ¡°Do you know what we¡¯ve done! Now I¡¯m officially a traitor. We¡¯ve killed three people. If they find this one¡­ Ala, for each of the dead, there''ll be more days of torture for me.¡±


    ¡°As your father said. Kill or be killed,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°My gods¡­ This is not right.¡± Kassius scratched his head once again. He looked around and gazed through the trees, as if looking for any movement in the village.


    ¡°What are you saying, Kasha?¡± Alana rebuked him. ¡°You saved Tor. Look! Your book is there, on the ground. Look at what poor Tor went through for that. Now pick it up and tell us it was worth it.¡±


    The book lay on a pile of leaves next to Tor. He picked it up, got up massaging his neck, and handed it to Kassius. Kassius dusted it off. ¡°Thanks, kid,¡± he said, flipping through the pages. He rose both eyebrows, as if surprised by something, then put the book in his bag.


    Kassius sighed.


    ¡°Now¡­¡± he clapped. ¡°Let¡¯s just get rid of the body, before anything happens,¡± he said. ¡°Quick,¡± he commanded, grabbing the soldier by the feet and dragging him into the thick foliage. Tor helped Kassius and Alana. She had already tied the soldier¡¯s belt around her waist.


    ***


    ¡°So¡­?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow. ¡°What if we tie a rock to it. Rocks are heavy.¡±


    ¡°But it depends, you know?¡± Kassius dragged the body next to the creek and let go of it with a sigh. He stood straight, stretching his back.


    ¡°Depends on what?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow, as if Kassius¡¯ words were absurd.


    Kassius cleared his throat.


    ¡°I read somewhere that according to the type of death they suffer, people are more or less likely to float...¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nonsense.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Tor! Get me that rock.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s enough,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°You think too much, Kasha. Don¡¯t think, just do.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s easier said than done.¡±


    The rock was as big as a horses¡¯ head, and denser than concrete. Alana tied it to his feet with the rope she had stolen, and the three of them pushed it into the creek. The body sank like an anvil, and the group hid the armour under a small rodent¡¯s den. Then, Kassius finally sat down and opened the book on the first page. Alana and Tor stood beside him as he flipped through the fragile pages marked with small black letters she had never seen before.


    ¡°What are those things?¡± Alana asked. ¡°Those are not runes, nor Itruschian letters.¡±


    ¡°This is the Hellenic alphabet,¡± Kassius said. ¡°Adapted from the ancient Cananic.¡±


    ¡°Can you even read it?¡±


    ¡°A bit,¡± he answered, but looked confused as he skimmed through it.


    ¡°It¡¯s boring. It doesn¡¯t even have pictures,¡± Alana scoffed.


    ¡°No, there are some. Look at this.¡± Kassius got to a page that had the fading picture of a bird and a fiery city underneath.


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    ¡°Oh¡­ That¡¯s the firebird of legend, is it not?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Kassius said. ¡°And the story is quite well explained, I think. The author copied it from a good source.¡±


    ¡°Is there a¡­?¡±


    ¡°Alana¡­ Thank you for your interest, but I need to concentrate. So if you don¡¯t mind, give me some time. I don¡¯t think the instructions for finding the sword will be as clear.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Alana said, looking at Tor. ¡°Hey, boy. Do you want to train for a bit?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Kassius raised his head and asked with a raised eyebrow. So much for needing to concentrate, Alana thought.


    Alana unsheathed the gladius from her belt.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been looking at this sword since you got here,¡± she said to the young boy, as she offered him the handle. ¡°Here. It¡¯s yours.¡±


    ¡°Be careful,¡± Kassius complained. ¡°Those are not toys.¡±


    Alana chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we know how to do it.¡±


    Kassius kept reading, but he was curious, or worried of the development of the sparring session, because he kept looking.


    ¡°I think you ought to be practicing with sticks,¡± he said.


    Alana stood on guard with the knife forward and brandished her dagger toward the front, faked a parry with a blocking motion, and lunged forward.


    ¡°Not bad,¡± Kassius said, unable to concentrate, and Tor had dropped his new gladius to clap his hands.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Alana said stroking her hair. ¡°Uncle Jovus used to teach me. Once Father found out he went crazy and yelled at my uncle,¡± she giggled, but after that, she let out a sad smile. ¡°He didn¡¯t let me touch a sword ever again after that.¡±


    ¡°Well that wasn¡¯t bad for a few lessons,¡± Kassius said, bobbing his head and squeezing his lips.


    Tor quietly imitated her movement. Alana rushed toward him. ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°But¡­ I think you should bend your knees a bit more¡­ Like that! Perfect!¡±


    Alana pretended to attack him, and Tor clumsily blocked the blow.


    ¡°Good job,¡± she said.


    Alana was proud of that moment. Holding a real weapon in her hand and knowing it was hers made her feel powerful, but she knew that it was not enough. Even the basic training she had was nothing against a soldier. She needed to improve and become the best she could be.


    ¡°Alana,¡± Kassius yelled behind her. His tone had changed, and he had a wide smile on his face. ¡°This book is astonishing. It has all the steps to become an initiate and a priest of Aranus¡¯ order. These¡­ these rites have been passed from generation to generation.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± she asked, helping Tor with his posture.


    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Kassius looked back at the manuscript, flipping through more pages. ¡°Astonishing! I really need to start practicing these rites!¡±


    ¡°And what does it do?¡±


    ¡°It will awaken the ability to see visions.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s amazing.¡±


    ¡°Ala, this is astonishing¡­ Just¡­ Astonishing. I¡¯m so honored. Grandfather has chosen me. This is a sacred text.¡±


    ¡°Well, considering there¡¯s no one else left.¡±


    ¡°By Saturn¡¯s beard! It even has the genealogy of my ancestors from my mother¡¯s side.¡±


    ¡°Well now that¡¯s interesting,¡± she said. When Kassius mentioned ancestry, Alana wished her father was with them. He would be a great guide and teacher. If he had the time and the will, he could have turned her into a warrior like the ones of the legends. She imagined the wide steppe, wearing his old plated armour like the scales of a dragon, a round shield, and a sword of iron. ¡°What does it say about them?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It goes all the way back to the East, about six hundred years ago. That¡¯s when we rode up into the northern steppes.¡±


    ¡°Amazing,¡± Alana said, opening her eyes wide. She wondered what kind of weapons they used. Father used to say ancient people built their weapons from bronze by mixing copper and tin.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Kassius said.


    Alana turned toward Tor.


    ¡°Alright, boy. You know what?¡± She sheathed the dagger and removed the belt. ¡°He¡¯s right. We¡¯re restraining our movement too much.¡± She strode toward the small den and extracted both the dead soldier¡¯s breastplate and his helmet.


    ¡°Here.¡± She put the armour over her shoulders and the helmet on. It moved from side to side in her head; her skull was not thick enough to fill it. ¡°One day we¡¯ll take my father¡¯s armour from the workshop. Now, I will practice defense and you will practice your striking. Sounds good?¡±


    Tor nodded happily. Alana looked around for suitable branches. It was a game, like those she used to play as a child, but its use would be proven useful for grown up things. Tor stood in position and attacked with a clumsy technique.


    ¡°By Saturn¡¯s...¡± Kassius kept interrupting their practice. ¡°It¡¯s describing the sword! Alana! All the information is here. Wait...¡± He started reading out loud, slowly, and in that strange language she did not understand.


    ¡°What are you saying?¡± she asked, shaking her head and fearing he would accidentally summon a soul-eating demon.


    ¡°I¡¯m describing the sword¡­ It says¡­ It was black in colour, its handle, it¡¯s crosshead was black like the night, and extended for¡­ Well, this doesn¡¯t make sense. It says it extended for ten cubits. This doesn¡¯t make sense. It¡¯s like five yards.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well. I don¡¯t think we can be carrying that around.¡±


    ¡°And it says it flew through the sky. I¡¯m not sure what these people were inhaling in their vapour baths. Well, maybe it¡¯s an error in translation like grandpa said.¡±


    ¡°If there¡¯s such an error in your book, how can we be sure we can trust it?¡±


    ¡°Well you just talked about believing and doing, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I just don¡¯t really trust your book. Especially now.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s assume he means inches. That would make it regular-sized, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°It would. So, what else does it say?¡± Alana asked, lowering her branch-wielding hand for an instant.


    ¡°It says¡­ It says it had two jewels over its black crucible, a jewel taken from the crown of each god. Each of them represented their sun. One for the Green Light of Venus, another one for Ares himself; a piece of his Red Sun. It says that... when he approached Venus to get the jewel¡­ That her hair was unruly, she had been chained by the giants, and when she escaped, she let her hair loose and it fell over the ground and created mountains and rivers. The Allfather had to calm her down. And then she cried, and the tear that dropped from her cheek turned into a green jewel. It fell from the heavens with a mighty thunderbolt and tore mountains and lakes.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wasn¡¯t it taken from her crown? That¡¯s what you just said.¡±


    ¡°Eh¡­ Yes, I did.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what it says.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s mixing everything up,¡± Alana complained.


    ¡°Yes, but¡­ Well, maybe we don¡¯t understand it completely.¡±


    ¡°Do you even understand, Kasha? Are you sure you can read that language?¡±


    ¡°Of course I can,¡± he said. ¡°Alright. Just give me some time, I¡¯ll keep reading this, and...¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Alana said, turning her back on Kassius and facing Tor again. ¡°On guard!¡± she said to the boy, and he immediately adopted the fighting stance. ¡°Come on, kid, show me what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    Tor lunged forward and attempted a lateral cut. Alana blocked it quickly, her long hair covered her eyes for an instant.


    ¡°Try to stab me,¡± she said, thinking of how she didn¡¯t know how to block that kind of attack. Tor attempted an attack, and Alana found that a swift circular motion could be helpful. ¡°Again,¡± she insisted, and blocked Tor¡¯s attack once more.


    ¡°Now try to do a combo,¡± she said.


    Tor did the exact two attacks he had just learned, a lateral cut and a frontal thrust. Alana blocked easily.


    ¡°Try something different,¡± she said. ¡°Improvise, adapt, overcome your challenges.¡±


    Tor nodded and lunged forward again, and this time, he aimed for Alana¡¯s neck. Alana barely blocked. Tor crouched and hit her under the thigh.


    She moaned like a puppy and collapsed to the ground.


    ¡°Auch,¡± Alana clenched her teeth and massaged her own leg. ¡°You hit me in the knee!¡±


    Tor dropped his wooden weapon, and he worriedly rushed toward her.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Alana said, squeezing her eyes and rolling to her side.


    ¡°Astonishing! Simply astonishing!¡± said Kassius, apparently oblivious to Alana¡¯s pain. ¡°So, the magic rocks that they put in the sword could produce an enormous amount of energy. The green tears of Venus could deliver a lightning bolt so powerful it could reduce enemies to dust. And that¡¯s not all. Ares himself removed his heart and put it on the sword. Consequently, he died to make the sword. But he came back to life and used it to inter the giants of the earth. The power of the Red Stone could call on the stars and bring them down from their places in heaven and create great havoc on this realm. Thus, it says, he created lakes and gorges when he poured his fury on the giants.¡±


    ¡°Amazing, so what happened to the sword?¡± Alana said, slowly raising to her feet with Tor¡¯s help. The pain in her knee was still numbing, and she recoiled in agony as she stretched her leg to walk. Tor walked by her side to support her and helped her sit on the overgrown roots of a willow.


    ¡°He needed to use the sword¡¯s full power and a sacrificial spell to defeat and bind the giants for two thousand years,¡± Kassius said solemnly.


    ¡°So? Did you get to the part where it says where the sword is?¡± Alana said, squeezing her brow and rubbing her knee.


    Kassius kept reading until his expression changed from awe to horror.


    ¡°What? It cannot be,¡± he said, as his eyes opened wide. ¡°This means...¡±


    ¡°

 Chapter XXI - The Fire

    The answer Kassius found in the text was the opposite he had expected, it seemed. Alana had begged him to tell her, and he had done so only after days. He read that the sword had been crushed into a thousand pieces, sacrificed to bind the giants of the earth. After the last revelation, between the moments they had to hide from patrolling soldiers, Kassius had lost all interest in the text, and had stared endlessly at the frozen creek. Alana told Kassius to keep fighting, but he kept asking for an answer. What could they do? She did not have one, and just pushed him to hunt and help gather food.


    Tor had proven more useful managing to fish and helped create a small smoking hut with dead branches and a broken stove. Days had gone by and the temperatures were now unbearable even during the day. Kassius¡¯ appetite had faded, and he could have let himself starve if it were not for Alana pressuring him to hunt.


    Alana and Tor fought with their wooden clubs every now and then. Tor was very good at carving objects in wood and had given them the basic shape of a sword.


    Alana usually kept negative thoughts at bay, but the question inevitably came¡­ What would they do next? What should they do once the winter became harsh? There was no cover for them, and the first snowfall of the previous year had been around the same time. Alana had heard of caves deep in the woods, but it would be too risky considering the Brown Ones that roamed the forest.


    So one cold morning, after a horrid freezing rain where hail dropped down so hard it seemed it could pierce through their bones, Alana faced Kassius. He was staring dryly at the creek, long overcoat over his shoulder, his skin swarthy and dark shadows under his eyelids. He was breathing heavily, his nose seemed to be stuffed.


    ¡°Kasha, it¡¯s not over,¡± she said with her arms on her hips. The soldier¡¯s belt never left her waist, and the Parzhian dagger stood ever by her side.


    He chuckled miserably.


    ¡°How can you even say that?¡± he said through his clenched teeth.


    ¡°I mean,¡± she cleared her throat and dropped next to him. She moved even closer, as her skin was cold, and she needed warmth. She knew he also did. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to tell you. We can fight back in other ways. We don¡¯t even need the sword.¡±


    ¡°Alana, the sword meant the gods were with us,¡± he emphasized the last word, frowning and clenching his gloved fists. ¡°We needed it. No force can make our peoples, even the tribes that are far away, assemble and fight for their future if they don¡¯t see the gods in it.¡±


    ¡°Now you, Kassius. How can you say that? There is always a way, even when it¡¯s not the one you expect. First of all, why would we need the sword? If it¡¯s not there, it¡¯s not there. I don¡¯t want to think Aranus was wrong. But if he was, so what? We are strong. We have been preserved through much hardship. We got the sacred texts. I know we can do anything. And if we fail, what do we care? Let others be inspired by our struggle. Let us just hope someone stronger and smarter comes and brings justice to our people.¡±


    Kassius bit his chapped lip.


    ¡°What way can there be?¡± he turned toward her. His big green eyes were tired and sorrowful. ¡°Why did Grandfather say the sword had to be recovered if the sword was destroyed? Alana¡­ Nothing can survive after being crushed into a hundred pieces.¡±


    ¡°Kasha, take the stories with a grain of salt. Do you think they¡¯re all literally true? Maybe they¡¯re like¡­ You know, like a code or something.¡±


    ¡°But...¡± Kassius supported his chin over his arms and knees, he sighed deeply.


    ¡°Listen,¡± Alana touched his shoulders and looked him in the eye. His pupils dilated, making him look younger, like a child. ¡°Father used to say that we are the ones who make the legends real.¡±


    Kassius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°So we make them real,¡± Kassius stared at the creek with his eyes wide open. He squeezed his mouth.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she boldly said.


    ¡°Ala...¡±


    She smiled at him.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. But¡­ What if?¡±


    ¡°What is it, Kasha?¡±


    ¡°What if we make the sword ourselves?¡±


    Alana¡¯s eyes opened wide; she stood up and extended her hands to him.


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d never ask.¡±


    The sunset arrived earlier that day, and they moved their camp northward, still following the small creek. Alana felt burning passion in her heart, far stronger than the hunger and the cold. And she knew Kassius felt it too.


    Kassius gathered the logs and started the biggest fire until that date, amid a cozy clearing. Tor had fallen prey to the fatigue of little food and drink, and he had fallen asleep while leaning against a tree, covered in blankets and fur.


    Alana sat next to the fire. The cold had gotten the best of her, and she shivered like a fish, even beneath the blankets.


    Kassius set a few more branches in the fire and sat. Alana followed him and dropped next to him.


    ¡°Big fires mean danger,¡± he said. ¡°They will notice it soon.¡±


    ¡°We better not die of cold. And we will go to them soon, also.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure we can do this?¡± he asked her, looking her straight in the eyes.


    ¡°There is no other way. If we want to make the sword, we must go to the village. To my old home. I¡¯m sure we can still.¡±


    ¡°But...¡± he sighed. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I know...¡± Tears filled Alana¡¯s eyes. She thought they had dried up days ago. ¡°Kassius, I don¡¯t care about dying. What else do I have? Nothing. I don¡¯t like to think this way, but Father is gone. Dreams are gone¡­ The only chance I have is this¡­ I swore to my friend Irema, blessed be her name, I would fight until the end. And I will.¡±


    ¡°You have more to fight for than I have.¡±


    She cleared her throat.


    ¡°You have a house, you have a homeland.¡±


    ¡°That thinks I am the worst scum of the earth. A traitor. They¡¯re paying people to kill me. I don¡¯t want to see my father ever again, as his shame would kill me. Have you forgotten?¡±


    ¡°Then? You have nothing to lose. You are free from all shackles.¡±


    ¡°I have something to lose,¡± he said, before taking a deep breath and looking away.


    ¡°What? What can be that important.¡±


    ¡°You.¡±


    Alana squeezed her lips and took a deep breath. Kassius didn¡¯t stop looking at her. Silence reigned for a few minutes as the logs and branches burned.


    ¡°I¡¯m still cold,¡± Alana said, staring at Kassius. His tanned skin seemed to sparkle before the fire. His beard was short, and his square face had a different, more heroic angle. He let out a crooked smile.


    ¡°Come here,¡± he said, opening his blanket and sharing it with her.


    Alana closed the gap, pressing her side against his. The skin of their arms brushed lightly.


    ¡°Sleepy?¡± she asked, stretching her legs fully.


    ¡°Not much. Are you comfortable?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Very comfortable. How about you?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he chuckled awkwardly.


    He sighed.


    ¡°And now?¡± Kassius asked.


    It was her turn to sigh.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry Kasha, I just¡­¡±


    ¡°No worries.¡±


    ¡°What should we do?¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just enjoy the night. Later, we will have a lot of stuff to worry about.¡±


    ***


    Alana and Kassius woke up at the same time and immediately stood up, disconcerted.


    Tor¡¯s gladius lay half buried in the ground, piercing through the blanket Alana and Kassius had shared. They exchanged glances, perplexed. Pale logs remained there, half of them turned to ash, smoke escaping like an evacuating spirit.


    ¡°What in the world¡­?¡± Kassius staggered to his feet and pulled the sword out.


    Alana looked around, covering her shoulders with her blue coat and squeezing her arms.


    ¡°Tor?¡± she asked, looking around, scanning through the dew covered bushes and trunks, but there was no sign of him.


    Alana shook her head and rushed toward the edge of the clearing where the pine trees seemed like gigantic guards blocking her way. ¡°Tor! Where are you?¡±


    ¡°Maybe he went fishing or something,¡± Kassius said, covering his shoulders with the blanket and shivering.


    ¡°But the sword¡­¡± Alana shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ strange.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Kassius scratched his head. ¡°Maybe he just went for a walk.¡±


    ¡°The sword, Kassius.¡±


    Alana passed her hand through her hair. She knew it was not a good sign. What could it mean?


    ¡°I say we start looking for him.¡± she said.


    ¡°We? Now? For sure nobody took him as a prisoner while we were here. He¡¯s probably walking around.¡±


    ¡°No, Kasha. He might have done it out of anger and...¡±


    ¡°Anger for what?¡±


    Alana shook his head.


    ¡°What is that boy thinking?¡± she said to herself. She could only think of the reason; Tor was jealous of Kassius. Jealous of what? Just the closeness, perhaps. Why was he being so irrational?


    ¡°We should go looking for him,¡± she insisted.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Kassius said, wiping the dust off his shirt. ¡°But where should we look?¡±


    ¡°Where else? Around you. Let¡¯s go, let us not waste time.¡±


    No matter how much Alana screamed, following along the creek for miles, there was no sign of the boy. She was growing anxious, but Kassius did not even seem worried.


    The day passed by them, and when she came back to camp that afternoon, Kassius was already cooking part of the week¡¯s fish over the fire. Tor had not appeared, and Kassius seemed less worried.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked, arms on her hips.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been fasting since yesterday in order to receive my visions, and since my fast is over, I decided to...¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried about him?¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the one who says we shouldn¡¯t worry too much?¡±


    ¡°How can you say that?¡±


    ¡°Alana. He¡¯ll come around. Or we¡¯ll look for him. But remember we have no time.¡±


    ¡°No time and yet you¡¯re slowly cooking a carp!¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s the last meal before the trial.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± she raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I must do my pilgrimage.¡± His face was stern. ¡°I must be initiated.¡±


    ¡°I get more confused with each word you say. What do you mean pilgrimage? What about Tor?¡±


    ¡°You go look for him.¡±


    ¡°I go look for him? I¡¯ve been looking for him the whole day, and you¡¯ve been sitting here thinking about Jupiter knows what.¡±


    ¡°Important stuff, Alana, for our project.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Kasha, the project is important.¡±


    ¡°Nothing is more important.¡±


    ¡°Tor is more important now. What has he done to you?¡±


    ¡°Stop worrying about him. If he wants to come back, the smell of the trout will drag him along. Stop worrying!¡±


    Alana shook her head and turned her back on Kassius. She did not care about food.


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna get dark again! Don¡¯t go!¡± he said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to be alone? Do your stupid initiation on your own.¡±


    ¡°Ala! We¡¯ve got to stay together!¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t care about that. Stop lying,¡± she said, as she ran through the trees. She let her feet take her away, up into the unknown. A blast of wind was rushing through the naked branches. She ran until her lungs begged for rest, and then she tightened her fists, but she was worried what that young boy might have done. How foolish of him. The only way to be safe was to be together. Alone, he could get lost, he could get eaten by beasts, or worse, found by the soldiers.


    ¡°Tor!¡± She screamed until the pain filled her throat. ¡°Tor! Please come back.¡±


    She stopped, noticing footprints on the ground below.


    She smiled to herself and followed them into the denser woods, stepping stealthily as the world around her grew more silent. She rarely walked that section of the forest, as the howling of wolves seemed to come from there, and also the stories of the Brown One wandering about.


    The footprints walked ever up into the foliage, following a straight path. They were not too separated, as if Tor had been walking calmly, hiking through the woods.


    Then, she stopped abruptly. There were two sets of footprints. She felt a sense of dread engulf her, and she noticed the shape of the footprints was too long and wide. They were not made by the shoes Tor had been wearing that day. She staggered to her feet, disturbed.


    It was better to get back. She blinked, paying attention to the sounds around her, she turned around and started running. Her feet pounded in the silent forest, and she heard strange noises around, of animals hiding, or maybe stalking in silence.


    She ran towards the creek, and as she passed out of the clearing, she heard words mumbled in the trees between. Her stomach sunk and her heart pounded.


    She had to run faster.


    ¡°Stop!¡± a rough voice said, she did not obey. Until she saw she was running toward two human figures. She lifted her head, paralysed.


    Both wore red tunics and legionnaire''s boots. One of them carried a bag, a gladius hung from his belt. The other held a bow and a quiver full of arrows on his back.


    She braced herself, then turned in a haste and ran the other way. The two men chased after her, their feet also thudding through the decayed leaves. She pushed her way through the leaf-deprived bushes and among the trunks, she turned left, further into the depths of the forest to confuse them.


    And yet, they were right behind. She got to a boulder and climbed down a big rock covered in lichens and moss, then kept running.


    An arrow buzzed next to her face, and she felt her heart pound harder and panic circle her mind. She could not stop. The trees became sparser, and mostly old pines rose up like towers of life amid the imposing dread of winter. There to her left she saw a wide rocky formation encased in rocks and vegetation that hosted a wide and deep cave.


    Suddenly, a root caught her left foot and she crashed down to the floor, her head smashed against the ground covered in fallen leaves.


    She stood up in agony, as she saw leaves and small pieces of wood stuck between her yellow hair. She had bruised her arm.


    ¡°Stop right there, you scum!¡± one of the rough voices behind her said. She put her hand under the cloak and felt the hilt of the dagger. She had to act fast. Two against one. If she could close the gap and slice their throats quickly, she would have a greater chance.


    She panted. She tried to control her breathing rate, and thus gain power over her emotions.


    ¡°Now, turn and yield yourself,¡± said one of them, his voice was rough and mature.


    She turned quickly, lunging at the soldier with the blade in her right hand. She shook it violently, her eyes blinded by the speed.


    ¡°You witch!¡± She heard a violent cry. As she stepped back, she saw one of the soldiers staring at his own hand, his teeth clenched and his eyes twitching. A stream of blood slowly descended from his forearm, and droplets stained the fallen leaves beneath. A nasty wound, but not incapacitating.


    The other soldier held his bow and aimed a black arrow with a bronze tip against her.


    ¡°You put your damn hands up or I¡¯ll put this through your eyes,¡± the soldier said.


    Alana gripped the dagger tightly and stepped back.


    ¡°Drop the damned dagger!¡± the man yelled. He was short, maybe around his third decade of life, and had a shaved head. The other one was older, his hair was dark blonde and had rather square features and blue eyes.


    Alana¡¯s breath was still heavy. She complied.


    Please, Ares, god of War, help me. Send someone, send Kasha, send Tor, anyone.


    ¡°Damn!¡± The wounded soldier pressed the wound, but the blood was still pouring out. He looked at Alana in the eye. ¡°I¡¯ll make you clean up this mess, you wretch.¡±


    Alana stood there, hands up, heart pounding like a war drum, and her lips did not respond. The soldier with the bow and arrow quickly moved toward her, locking her in his aim.


    ¡°Take off the cloak!¡± he ordered, revealing broken wooden teeth.


    ¡°What?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Wait,¡± the soldier advanced, and when he got close enough, he pressed the arrow against Alana¡¯s neck, holding the string of his bow tightly. She swallowed as she felt the cold and sharp tip.


    The bleeding soldier was taking the pain well, but he could not stop the bleeding. He walked closer to Alana and yanked her blue cloak with his healthy hand. She shivered. Her hemp dress was dusty, and the soldiers caught a glimpse of the dead soldier¡¯s belt.


    ¡°Where did you get that?¡± the first soldier asked.


    ¡°You little thief. You¡¯re so lucky you¡¯re not dying today. We thought we would hunt something nice, but it seems like the great Diana wanted to wrap us a nice sweet gift.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you¡¯re surely a treasure,¡± said the tanned soldier with the blood pouring out. ¡°You don¡¯t know how much they be payin¡¯ now to get you rascals. Hey Tertullianus, is this the one that killed Orcus?¡±


    ¡°No, this is the traitor¡¯s wife?¡±


    ¡°Ah, that one?¡± The wounded soldier pouted in surprise.


    ¡°Alright, dolly, remove that belt. Drop that damn stolen sword, walk yourself to that tree, and wait in there, hands up.¡±


    Alana nodded, the metal still pressed against her. Her eyes started to moisten. She quickly untied the belt and ran frantically to the tree. The soldier let out a laugh.


    ¡°What a whore!¡± scowled the wounded one. He groaned.


    ¡°Don, get that wound covered,¡± Tertullianus said to his companion. ¡°And let¡¯s make her tell us about that traitor. I can¡¯t wait for that reward.¡±


    ¡°Hey, bitch, where is the traitor?¡± Don screamed at her. ¡°We¡¯ll go look for him, so you better tell us and make things easier for both of us.¡±


    Alana shut her lips.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Don, she¡¯ll speak alright,¡± Tertullianus said, following his words with a cruel laugh. ¡°They¡¯ll make her life a living hell for her last few days. She¡¯ll get what she deserves. Now we got a good hunt, didn¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Hey Tertullianus,¡± Don frowned. ¡°Tie her up now. Get the rope from my pocket. And you, girl, you don¡¯t move!¡± the wounded soldier screamed at Alana.


    She tried in vain to think of a solution. Her mind was blocked. And out of nowhere, the air had become colder. She shivered like custard in a bowl.

 Chapter XXII - Warchild

    Jealousy burned in Tor¡¯s heart like a furnace. It was love, or was it? It stung into his soul, more painful than the soldier¡¯s beatings that week. Sometimes, between thoughts of loneliness and yearning, he felt hatred and despair.


    He walked up through the forest and sat with his back against a pine, overlooking the creek.


    But Tor was angry. Since that day she had protected him, Alana had become the most important person in the whole world; her voice had become the stuff of dreams, as had her shining hair and bright blue eyes. For an instant, he had thought she cared enough for him to share a heart and love, but she had not hesitated embracing Kassius.


    Kassius, how he hated him. As much as he had saved his life, he had taken away something more important.


    Those were strange times, but Tor realized he had nothing else to hold on to. So much had happened in the past few days, that it seemed like he had been snatched away into another life. He sighed, then stared into the cold creek and saw himself. He saw his downtrodden face, ruffled dark hair, bruised lips, and tired blue eyes. He had been skinny before, but now, his eyes were surrounded by shadows and his face looked like a fruit that had been let out to dry in the sun. His cheekbones were even more pronounced, and the shadows under his eyes made him look a bit like a skeleton, and his arms had become frail like branches. Why did life have to be that way?


    In the depths of his soul he demanded Alana to stand by his side, but¡­ that could not be¡­ After all, he was just a mute boy. She had cared for him out of pity, nothing else. How he wished he were tall and strong, that he could sway her away with his qualities, and above all, that he could avenge his dead father, and the hell his mother was going through. But no, he had to run away and be hunted down like a rabbit, only to have Kassius save him. If he could only be like he wanted.


    Tor stood up, his teeth clenched. He thought he had been playing games for too long, he should maybe go back and care for his mother. Yes, she definitely needed him.


    </a> He stared at his reflection again. Who was he really, and who was he bound to be? He had to bring the best of himself. His anger still pulsated within, but he knew what to do. That anger had to be put in place and cooled down. Hot anger was uncontrollable and could hurt him quickly, like a fire in the woods. Cold anger could be directed slowly and efficiently.


    ¡°Hey, you!¡± a voice called behind him.


    Tor turned swiftly and stood in a fright as a man walked toward him, with a sword on his belt and a fishing cane leaning on his shoulder. Tor¡¯s few seconds of stillness turned into a rushed escapade.


    ¡°Stop!¡± the man yelled, unsheathing his short sword and chasing after the boy.


    Tor jumped into the water. A blow of coldness bruised his skin. He stretched his arm and felt a cramp engulf his feet. He staggered in pain, and his knees recoiled. He started swimming with his arms, but soon, a hand caught his leg and dragged him back to the river bank.


    Tor tried to break free as his body came out of the water, shaking uncontrollably.


    ¡°Here you are, you vermin,¡± the man said, letting him go, but holding on to his sword. Tor looked at him defiantly, water dripping from his hair.


    ¡°You¡¯re that little worm, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Tor stood up, glaring at the soldier and trying to hide his tremors. His stomach turned inside him, and he felt vulnerable and alone. He wished Alana was there to help him, even Kassius. How foolish of him to have left the sword at the camp.


    ¡°Now you better behave,¡± the soldier said, frowning with his thick black eyebrows. ¡°We¡¯ve got to bring you back. Now what¡¯s your name?¡±


    Tor stood still, his eyes fixed on the man. The soldier lunged toward him and grabbed him by the wrist.


    ¡°Come on, you little fool. Speak to me.¡±


    Tor raised his jaw, but before he could respond with signs, the man smacked him in the face and threw him to the floor. The man sheathed his sword.


    Tor gasped, clenching his fist. He lifted his head. He could not call their names, but aside from the soldier and he, there was no sound in the dark woods, no one could come to his aid. He had to fight alone, and Alana¡¯s example burned in his soul. What should he do to fight back? He looked up as the man reached for his short hair and pulled.


    ¡°Ready to have your flesh torn from your bone? Cause¡¯ that¡¯s what you¡¯ll get, you stinking partisan!¡±


    The soldier pulled him by the hair harder, Tor couldn¡¯t help but let out an anguished scream.


    ¡°Now, are you gonna talk or not?¡± the soldier asked.


    Tor frowned, he gathered his muck and spat on the soldier¡¯s face.


    The soldier grimaced as he wiped it from his brow. ¡°You son of a...¡±


    In that instant, Tor reached for the soldier¡¯s belt and removed the sword. It glimmered heavily. He was already accustomed to the weight and balance of a gladius. He grasped it in two hands and quickly smote it against the soldier¡¯s side. The horrified soldier took a step back as the blood descended from around his ribs.


    ¡°You dirty...¡± the soldier muttered, and he brought his hand to his face and coughed blood. He stared at it in shock.


    Tor opened his mouth and delivered a loud acute shriek. He strode forward and impaled the sword in the soldier¡¯s abdomen as the man tried, in vain, to grab the blade and pull it out of his body. Tor¡¯s anger emerged, and he turned it into a scream of fury. He pushed forth, striding like an athlete, as tears stung the corners of his tired eyes and descended through his cheeks.


    He kept pushing and the dead body dropped to the ground, face up, with blood pouring and the sword impaled in his stomach, sticking up like a tree planted in an empty garden.


    Tor had done it. He had slain one of his enemies. But he felt empty.


    That man wanted to hurt him, yes, but he did not know him. He did not know whether he had a wife, children, dreams. Tor¡¯s eyes were open wide. There was no pride in his action, just existence and wrath.


    And he broke down, crying his heart out. He was not proud, nor repentant, he was horrified of what life had brought him to. The only thing he yearned for was his father¡¯s embrace, his mother¡¯s care, and a normal life, with hot stew, warm goat¡¯s milk, and barley drinks. Holy days in a yurt, with seed-smoke engulfing the atmosphere and making everyone smile.


    But he was cold, alone, and with blood on his hands. For an instant, he thought even killing them would not fix it.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Not even if he killed them all.


    He knelt, the tears kept flowing, and he wiped his cheeks. He just wanted his parents by him. And Alana. And¡­


    Suddenly, he heard rushed strides behind him, along with the sound of clanking metal.


    ¡°Stay still!¡± a voice said. ¡°Hands up.¡±


    Tor obeyed reluctantly, his back still toward the source of the voice. The steps drew nearer, and he saw a hand, wrists encased in leather, take away the gladius on the ground.


    ¡°You murdering scum,¡± the other voice said. Tor then turned and met with the eyes of two armoured soldiers.


    ¡°Is this the one?¡±


    ¡°This is the small one,¡± the other soldier responded. ¡°The one who disappeared in the woods.¡±


    ¡°By Jupiter, look at what he did to that guy. Did you know him?¡±


    ¡°That guy is from Catotidus¡¯ company. The fisherman.¡±


    ¡°Poor guy, this kid is finally going to get what he deserves.¡±


    One of the soldiers kicked Tor¡¯s ribs with his heavy boots. He gasped and put his hand over it, fearing it had ruptured his skin. He felt no blood, but the pain pulsated through the area and made him moan.


    ¡°Come on, march on,¡± said one of them, forcing him to stand up and making him advance into the woods, westward, where the village¡¯s smoke still floated through the treetops.


    And then, Tor¡¯s mind went blank. It was as if he had taken refuge in a dark void that grew wider and deeper with every step. They pushed him through the woodland, and soon they entered the village, more desolate than ever. A few people saw him and hid their glances. He knew them, of course, but they seemed reluctant to be seen with a wanted criminal and would hopefully avoid humiliating him further.


    ¡°Come on, you scum,¡± the soldier kept snapping at him, but the words seemed to dissolve in the air around him.


    The old chieftain¡¯s house was still in place, a round cylinder of gray bricks, a wide window on the front. The triangular flag of the Dragon had been replaced by an Imperial Eagle. Two soldiers sat at the doorstep, helmets off, their spears leaning on the wall. Tor noticed they were playing cards. When they saw him, the guards sneered and laughed at him, as his escorts pushed the door open and him inside.


    The window cast light into the walls. A man awaited seated in front of a simple table. He was old, short in stature and with white hair. He was still wearing the segmented armour, which was rusty and barely fit him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± he stood up. ¡°What are you bringing here today?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve come to deliver this nasty rascal and demand the reward,¡± said one of the soldiers.


    ¡°Alright, what do we have here?¡± The old soldier in charge frowned, examining Tor with his venomous eyes.


    ¡°This is the rat that killed the old Polux. We found him killing a soldier from Cat¨®tidus¡¯ company. On the river bank.¡±


    ¡°How do you know it¡¯s him?¡± the secretary asked, palms upward.


    ¡°He¡¯s mute.¡±


    ¡°Ah, is he?¡± The old man kept staring at him with his reddened green eyes, his voice was so loud it made his eyes ring. ¡°Now talk, will ya?¡±


    Tor kept his eyes up, defiant.


    ¡°Have you pushed him to talk?¡±


    ¡°Emm, no.¡±


    ¡°Well, deliver him to the boys down there. If he responds well, we¡¯ll get you your reward on Friday.¡±


    ¡°Friday?¡± The soldiers looked at each other. ¡°Can we get an advance?¡±


    ¡°Advance? What am I, father Saturnalia? This is not how things work down here. Besides, if you¡¯re here, what do you need that money for?¡±


    The two frowned.


    ¡°Well, actually, our leave is coming up this week and we need...¡±


    ¡°Friday, I said.¡±


    ¡°But our leave will almost be over by then, come on,¡± the soldier pleaded.


    ¡°That¡¯s how it¡¯s done. Appeal for a swap.¡±


    The soldiers frowned, one of them comforted the other by placing a hand softly over his shoulder.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, . We will manage.¡±


    The old guard coughed and spat in a bucket by his feet.


    ¡°Now, don¡¯t waste any more time and get this bad boy to the dungeon.¡±


    ¡°To the dungeon,¡± they said, marching Tor down.


    A sudden burst of laughter came from within him. Why was life so ironic. He was about to face the worst destiny he could imagine, and those two were whining about not being able to pay for their leave.


    ¡°What are you laughing at, skunk?¡±  asked.


    ¡°Oh, we forgot you cannot talk,¡± said the other, with his soft voice. ¡°Or can you?¡±


    Tor felt as his spirit slowly disconnected from his body, as they marched him through a dark room where rats roamed about, as if the place had been built specially for them. And he saw silhouettes around him. He could not look to his sides, for the shock would be too great. He heard the sobbing of a few children and women. He noticed they were all chained to the walls.


    Another guard stood by, a fat man with a red moustache.


    ¡°Newcomer,¡± said the two, as they delivered him.


    ¡°This is supposed to be a mute, and he killed two people.¡±


    ¡°He killed two? What a beast. And he looks no older than twelve.¡±


    ¡°I bet the bastard was killing them in their sleep or something. So dishonourable,¡± Julian stated with disdain.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯ll teach you to behave before your execution,¡± the guard said, his moustache was so large it looked as if he didn¡¯t move his lips. He ended his words with a loud laugh.


    Soon enough, Tor was chained to the wall with rusty shackles and the two soldiers left covering their noses. Tor remained still. For some strange reason, he felt calm. As if it was going to be over soon. And it would.


    The old guard rushed to the other exit and opened the door.


    ¡°Hey¡­¡± The guard clapped, addressing someone else. ¡°Come on, boy, it¡¯s getting dirty again. Go clean up. That lady in the second set of chains has got serious stomach problems.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± the mysterious man behind the door responded. He walked out. It was a young man, his hair was cut like a normal civilized Itruschian, short. His skin was tanned, and he was not wearing a shirt.


    He walked down the stairs, bucket and shovel in hand, with an expression of disgust. Tor noticed the still fresh scars of a whip crossing his back.


    So that was his destiny, Tor thought.


    After a few minutes, his arms started to ache, and so did his fingertips. He feared that the pain would become unbearable.


    The young cleaner walked by him.


    ¡°New here, huh? My gods, you¡¯re just a boy, what did you do?¡±


    Tor shook his head.


    ¡°No? No, what?¡± the man asked again.


    Tor made a sign with two fingers pointing downward, indicating a person, then straightened his hand, imitating a sword cutting through something.


    ¡°You killed somebody?¡±


    Tor nodded.


    ¡°A soldier? My gods,¡± the man said, then proceeded to chuckle. ¡°I wish I could say don¡¯t worry, but you see how it is. Hope you last for a longer time,¡± he said, and Tor realized he was trying not to imply his imminent death. ¡°They say they¡¯re bringing cells and building a decent prison. You know, at least not to be hanging like this.¡±


    The man turned around without a word and went to the corner of the room, proceeding to clean up.


    ¡°How are you doing Raxana?¡± he asked a woman Tor hadn¡¯t seen.


    The woman responded with a moan.


    ¡°Is it today?¡± she asked faintly, her voice was so mournful and pained it gave Tor chills. The desire for revenge he had felt earlier was soon overshadowed by the cloudy feeling of helplessness.


    ¡°Tomorrow, hang on.¡±


    Was he referring to her execution? A tear slid down from Tor¡¯s eyes. Not for him, but for the others, how they had been through greater pain than he had.


    Soon, when the man was finished, he walked back to the stairs, casually peering at Tor.


    He walked on.


    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have anyone to talk to here. I mean, no one that doesn¡¯t just yell. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m one of them. Yes, I¡¯m part of this machine, I¡¯m a monster too.¡±


    Tor didn¡¯t say anything, just stared.


    ¡°My name is Felix,¡± the shirtless man introduced himself. ¡°Don¡¯t need to say your name. And please, tell them what they need to know. If not, they¡¯ll be very rough.¡±

 Chapter XXIII - The Huntress

    Alana pressed her forehead against the pine tree, trying to regain the control of her breath. She thought of what to do. Her eyes slowly rolled up. The pale light of the sun went through the branches. If she climbed quickly, she could hide behind the branches. Maybe she could pull that off again.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Tertullianus screamed at her. ¡°Don¡¯t think of trying something funny because we will nail your feet to that tree.¡±


    She put her head down.


    ¡°Don, hand me the rope now.¡± Tertullianus said.


    Alana took a deep breath. She had to wait for the right moment.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look back here, bitch. As soon as I get this damn rope on your hands, I want you to behave well. Come on, we don¡¯t have patience.¡±


    ¡°I thought of something, Tertullianus. What if we used her as bait.¡±


    ¡°Are you crazy. They be payin¡¯ us a lot for bringing her alive. They will make her squeak. Will be gettin¡¯ her all dirty also. We don¡¯t want her to be all cut up already. Just if necessary.¡±


    ¡°So you not shooting the arrow into the wench?¡±


    ¡°Shut it, Don.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, I don¡¯t mean she gettin¡¯ all torn up, just keep her as a bait, when the big guy comes, we put her away.¡±


    ¡°Whatever, Don, just give me the damn rope.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait.¡±


    Alana heard the man dropping the items from his bag. It was time. She dropped her hands and got ready to run away, she stepped out in a haste, but she felt a pull on her clothes. Tertullianus started laughing again as she tried to run. The arrow pierced through her hemp tunic, sticking into the wood.


    ¡°This is a warning, bitch. Now put your hands up again.¡±


    Alana obeyed silently.


    ¡°Turn your little face. Yes¡­¡±


    Alana faced the tree and cleared her throat. Now what? Kassius was probably savouring the trout or chanting in a fake language, screaming for help could not help. What would they do to her? How could she fight back?


    ¡°Found the rope,¡± Don announced gladly.


    ¡°Great,¡± Tertullianus said with a laugh. ¡°My gods, this is a mess. This is so tangled up. Alright, you hold your horses, dolly. I won¡¯t take long. I¡¯ll be back with you soon.¡±


    Alana¡¯s eyes were fixed on the patterns of the dark tree bark. Once again, she froze, as Tertullianus¡¯ laughter grew louder. Then, his steps drew closer. His laughter turned into animal-like sounds.


    And then, his laughter stopped. Something rushed through the branches, as if it breaking through them, like a battering ram moving at high speed between the trees.


    ¡°Gods, gods, gods, kill him Tert!¡± Don, the wounded man yelled.


    Tertullianus let out a high-pitched shriek.


    Alana was tempted to look back.


    Don let out another high scream, it became a moan and a cry for mercy.


    Alana turned quickly and felt her soul escape as she did. The Brown One had appeared. The colour of its fur was closer to black, Her head was massive, and Her clawed muscular paws moved quicker than lightning. Don lay on the floor, agonizing, as Tertullianus pointed the bronze arrow at it. The beast gushed forward in the blink of an eye, tackling the soldier, and pushing him almost ten feet away. The bow hopelessly flew yards into the air and bounced against a tree. Before Alana could move a finger, the Beast was already over the soldier¡¯s body.


    Alana could not move. She could not even look away.


    The Brown One pawed through Tertullianus¡¯ chest, biting him like a furious dog, blood stained the man¡¯s yellow tunic. The Bear¡¯s massive jaws closed onto him like a monstrous machine. Then, She reached for his head with its jaws and dragged him back like a rag doll. The soldier cried out like a banshee as the knife sharp teeth punctured the soldier¡¯s skin like a coffin of nails and blood poured from every spot.


    Alana¡¯s mind responded, and she instinctively climbed the tree like a terrified kitten. Her heart pounded and her arms and legs worked incessantly. Even after she found a safe distance, half way through the tree, she kept going. When she was so high up she could tower over other trees, she held onto the thick trunk, her naked skin pressing against the freezing bark. She realized her hemp tunic was gone, still hanging from the arrow beneath.


    And she could not avoid staring at the scene below. The Brown One¡¯s paws had so maimed the man¡¯s face that the skin had peeled off to the side, revealing red flesh beneath. After another blow, his bloodied entrails scattered about and yellowish fluid, like the inside of a bone, dripped out from his open skull. Thus, the man¡¯s screams ended.


    But Don could only wait for his own demise. He breathed rapidly, and his screams rang through occasionally. She almost felt sorry for him as the bear crawled toward him and delivered a finishing blow.


    Alana¡¯s eyes were still wide open, bewildered and shocked at the horrifying fate of those two.


    And yet, she bowed her head.


    Thank you, Brown One.


    The Bear turned around, moving its snout like a dog sniffing about, and growled as if acknowledging her presence.


    Alana then saw three figures peering through the cave. Bear cubs, their furs fuzzy and their black eyes shining with curiosity, eagerly waiting for a modest meal of man.


    ***


    After a long wait, when the bears were not around, Alana descended stealthily. The bodies still lay over the grass, half open. She avoided looking, but her blue cloak was still lying next to the carcasses.


    She looked around, the bear was not close. She knew she would have to disappear as quickly as possible, as she had seen how fast She was, and she could not outrun Her. She feared praying to the Brown One. If she called Her in her mind she may show up and devour her as well.


    But she could not help it, after all, She had protected her.


    Please, You¡­ Who protected me¡­ Please let me go in peace. I will just get my cloak and go¡­


    Alana stealthily walked to the centre. She passed through the dead bodies, avoiding them. A strange odour permeated the area, probably all the spilled fluids that came out of the soldier¡¯s internal organs. She covered her mouth and strode out. There, she knelt and grabbed the cloak and the dagger from the ground. She held the cloak up and looked for blood stains. It was still intact.


    A loud noise sent a chill down her spine, and as she turned, she saw the Brown One standing out of the den, its eyes fixed on her.


    Her feet responded quickly, and she ran toward the foliage. The One dashed behind her, fast as a chariot. In no time, she realized her attempt at escape was futile. Foolish of her, as panic had deceived her.


    She only prayed that she could survive and dropped to the ground, crouching, her arms over her ears and hair.


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    The creature pounced on her. She squeezed her eyes as its hot breath poured over her like a furnace. Her paws descended over her flesh. She felt claws like fishing hooks, as the otherwise soft paw toyed with her and cast her to the side.


    Alana refrained from moving. She knew very well one movement could send her to hell. The men had not been as lucky. She breathed in, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to keep calm. The beast¡¯s hot breath cooked over her face, and without a word, she made a plea in her mind, in the depth of her soul, to be left alone. The beast¡¯s warm, humid snout brushed against her forehead, and she remained still, her eyes tensed and shut for moments that seemed to extend into eternity. How long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Soon, the beast lifted its head, the warm furry body turned, and the beast walked away.


    She remained on the floor, her body tucked and her head down. She opened her eyes and dozens of high pines towered above her head. She lifted her head slightly and viewed her surroundings. From there she could see the high grass and the trees above, almost like castles and walls. She stood up, she looked back into the dark, rocky den and slowly walked back into the woods.


    After reaching a safe distance, she ran again with all her might, this time avoiding raising her voice, afraid she may bring the attention of soldiers and wicked men. She just had to reach for Kassius or Tor. She walked for about an hour, as the fear of what she had just gone through slowly faded and a strange feeling of thankfulness filled her once more.


    She soon reached camp, but the bonfire had been put out, the ashes scattered about, and their possessions moved. What had Kassius done? Either he was mad or something bad had happened to him. Or not that bad, if he had managed to dismantle everything. Where would he be? Alana knelt and followed the tracks, but she noticed there were two sets of them. Who could it be? Tor? She could not make the same mistake as before, and she noticed they were about his size, but made with different footwear. It was hard to tell what kind.


    Then, she saw something that had been bound to the branches of a high pine. She walked closer. It was a piece of hemp paper, a small thread held it against the branch, but instead of a sigil, it had a crude drawing representing trees and a triangular structure almost as high as them. She grabbed the paper and looked at it closely. It was definitely made with Kassius¡¯ red ink.


    She knelt again and followed the footsteps. They continued for a few steps, a bit off from the bank of the creek, and they faded, as if erased intentionally. She clenched her teeth, raising her head. Where had those boys gone? And then she noticed another piece of paper stuck into a woodpecker¡¯s nest.


    This time it had a stylized arrow. It was guiding her somewhere.


    She walked in that direction, holding the black dagger in hand, and she, again, reached the banks of the creek, this time guarded by a moss-covered rock. It was completely covered in grey lichens and green moss, and it reached the mid of her calves and was quite regular in shape. Right on top she saw a third piece of paper, this time so small and amorphous it could be mistaken for a leaf. She lifted it. On the hidden side there was another arrow, and that one pointed downward.


    She raised an eyebrow.


    Something was up. The shape of the rock was also too regular, long like a man, but broken in pieces. She knelt, took out the knife, and peeled the moss, staining her black dagger with green.


    There were writings on its surface.


    She stood up again and took a few steps back. If the rocks were put together and erected, they would form a proud menhir.


    That was what Aranus talked about, the menhir. Now what could it do? Was it some kind of a gate into the world of the gods, like in the legends? Had Kassius managed to transcend the material realm, or had she eaten the wrong mushroom that morning.


    She knelt again, noticing a vague circular shape in the ground right next to the rocky structure. She stuck her fingers into it. Something was wrong. They did not go through. A hard surface lie underneath. She removed the ground on top of it and realized it was some sort of hatch made of stone. On top of it there was an engraving representing the goddess Venus. She blinked in amazement, as she had not known of ancient relics or tombs. How ancient would it be?


    A small opening, almost a sealing, was constructed beneath. She used the dagger as a lever. It gave in with a bit of strength. Alana proceeded to lift it, groaning as it required the little strength she had left.


    It opened with a creak, revealing a dark tunnel that sunk beneath, with dark iron bars that served as a ladder. She swallowed and turned around to start climbing down.


    ¡°Hold up,¡± she heard a voice beneath that echoed like a spectre. She looked down, and in the dim light that passed through, she saw Kassius with bow and arrow in hand. He put it down after recognizing her.


    ¡°Kasha! It¡¯s you!¡± She smiled broadly and descended faster.


    ¡°No! Wait,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Close the entrance?¡±


    ¡°Close it?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow, then looking up at the only thing that illumined the dark tunnel.


    ¡°Yes. There¡¯s soldiers all around us.¡±


    Alana sighed.


    ¡°Do you at least have light down there, Kasha?¡±


    ¡°We do, don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, moving up and pulling the hatch down. Its weight made it recede immediately and it closed with a bang.


    Alana climbed down, dropped to her feet on the last steps, and looked into the dark tunnel. She could barely recognize Kassius¡¯ silhouette, and she rushed to wrap him in her arms.


    ¡°Kasha, you won¡¯t believe what happened,¡± she said in awe and gratitude, feeling Kassius¡¯ smell of sweat and damp clothes.


    ¡°What was it? Anything more impressive than this?¡± he asked.


    She stepped back and tried to look in the dark.


    ¡°Kasha¡­ Where¡¯s the light?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be surprised.¡±


    A fire came, blazing out of the dark tunnel and lightening the straight walls. The tunnel was covered with pillars and reliefs, like an ancient temple of curious workmanship, but the fire made her mouth drop, it was someone holding a flaming torch. Alana opened her eyes wide as she recognized the figure; a round face, messy brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a shy smile.


    ¡°By Ares! Irema! It¡¯s you!¡±


    Alana ran with all her mind and embraced her friend tightly. She let go and looked at her face, she was bruised and her lips healing past wounds.


    ¡°Ala. Finally,¡± Irema said softly. ¡°You won¡¯t believe how I missed you.¡±


    Alana held her again.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad we¡¯re together, and that you¡¯re free,¡± Alana said, wiping her tears. ¡°So?¡±


    She wanted to ask more and wondered how she had arrived there.


    ¡°What happened? How?¡± Alana said between tears of joy.


    ¡°Come and sit with us,¡± Irema said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you everything.¡±


    ***


    The walls had a place to hold the torches, which now lit the empty corridor. The three friends sat on the floor, forming a circle, their faces tired and dirty, their flesh bruised, but smiling at the blessing fortune had granted.


    ¡°So the Brown One came to the rescue,¡± Kassius said, narrowing his green eyes.


    ¡°Yes. I know, right? Amazing,¡± Alana said with both fear and awe.


    ¡°And scary,¡± Irema said.


    ¡°It¡¯s strange,¡± Kassius said, touching the rocky, dusty floor with his fingertips. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to contact my guardian spirit, and I couldn¡¯t. I¡¯ve been doing it for days, fasting, staring at the dark. You¡¯re out for three hours and you¡¯ve got the strongest guardian spirit there could be.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you both got it,¡± Irema said.


    ¡°What?¡± Alana asked, arching an eyebrow.


    ¡°I mean,¡± Irema looked at both of them. ¡°You two are married. Now you are like one flesh.¡±


    Alana chuckled.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like that. I mean,¡± she said, then smiled awkwardly.


    ¡°I mean. We aren¡¯t¡­¡± Kassius said. ¡°I mean, we aren¡¯t really married. Are we?¡± He stared at Alana, his eyes wide open.


    ¡°No. No,¡± Alana shook her head, stroking her hair.


    ¡°I mean, everybody¡¯s saying it. Now it¡¯s true. The bad guys are looking for the murderous marriage.¡±


    Alana smiled faintly, but her eyes drifted down. It was hell up there.


    ¡°What about this?¡± Alana asked Irema. ¡°Tell us about this place. And...¡±


    ¡°I will tell you, Ala. They¡¯re hunting me down as well,¡± Irema said.


    ¡°You?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow. ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°She...¡± Kassius made a sign to illustrate a man being hung. ¡°Her husband.¡±


    ¡°You what?¡± Alana opened her eyes wide, not knowing how to react.


    Irema¡¯s face paled under the dim light.


    ¡°So¡­ They¡¯re after you,¡± Alana said, her eyes twitching. ¡°And how did you find this place?¡±


    ¡°So, I killed Helius, the man who they married to me, then I told my mother to tell the soldiers she had found it, not to put her at risk. It was hard to convince her. Then, I went to the shrine and Aranus told me about the fallen menhir.¡±


    ¡°Oh, the menhir,¡± Alana said. ¡°I guess we didn¡¯t understand that bit.¡±


    ¡°I thought you would be here. I brought some food and waited here, but you never came. Then, I found Kassius and his bonfire a few hours ago as he was putting it off and hiding from the soldiers.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­¡± Alana jumped to her feet, looking around. ¡°This passage. The tunnels¡­ Who built them?¡±


    ¡°Old Tharcians.¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Tharcians? We are in Tharcia.¡±


    ¡°The original inhabitants, that is,¡± Kassius explained. ¡°Relatives of us. We spoke the same language back then,¡± Kassius added.


    ¡°Amazing!¡± Alana muttered.


    ¡°I was telling her about the sword,¡± Kassius said. ¡°That we must make it and¡­ Tell her, Irema.¡±


    ¡°Aranus told me there are many secrets, most of them, he doesn¡¯t know. There is one that concerns us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s in the book,¡± Kassius said, excited.


    Irema cleared her throat. Her blue eyes gleamed with the fire reflecting in them.


    ¡°He hoped you could rebuild the sword. Piece by piece. He knew it could not be found in full. He told me there is a fragment of the Sun of Venus somewhere in the forest,¡± Irema said.


    ¡°Do you know what that means, Ala?¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°What?¡± Alana raised her head.


    ¡°Remember the story?¡±


    Alana shook her head.


    ¡°I remember the tear that fell from the sky and...¡±


    ¡°

 Chapter XXIV - Strength in Numbers

    Cladius took a last look out of the carriage as they descended through the sloppy hills, overlooking the frosted forest. The first snowflakes of the year descended over the road like leaves from the trees of heaven, a fitting prelude to their arrival. His heart sank as they approached, wondering what the reaction of the people would be. The last leg of his journey he had wondered at the forests and steppes, he had seen humble people harvest and march, but was about to encounter the true meaning of oppression. And he felt responsible.


    The architecture in Adachia was unlike anything Cladius had seen, and he could notice from afar. The houses were perfectly round and tall, built with small gray bricks, the doors were small and some of the triangular thatched roofs were twice the size of the houses. Some had been replaced with Itruschian wooden shingles, as the original roofs had probably been burnt during the siege.


    When the caravan finally rolled through the village, most of the streets were empty, but he could see a gathering of people leading up to the town square. Most were women, and as they approached, Cladius noticed their clothes; the quality was fine, fashioned out of good textiles. Some, however, were charred or stained with dust and blood. Their expressions were like those Cladius saw fifteen years before, of his own people in the cities surrounded the capital, of men and women who lost their homes, their children, their honor, against themselves. Cladius did not want to see it as fate for the crimes their tribe had committed before. No, it was desire for revenge that had plunged them into death and suffering, one that had broken peace between two nations.


    A line of legionaries surrounded the women, and they stood like towers, holding on to their spears close to the edges of the street, guarding the road. The caravan halted at the town square. It opened and Larius was the first to step out into the cold. The rest followed. Cladius felt sickened when he heard the mute applause. He looked around, and although most of the people¡¯s faces were expressionless, a small group of women awaited close to the main carriage, all wearing the same blue hemp dress and fur coats with rich embroidering, their hair braided over their heads with interlaced winter flowers. They smiled widely, but Cladius noticed bruises and lacerations on their arms.


    Larius stepped out, the women made way, and one of them stepped forward and presented him with a bouquet of flowers.


    ¡°I thank you, people of Adachia!¡± he lifted his hand. Cladius stood still, his eyelids tense at the bizarre scene he was witnessing.


    The new arrivals were led to a high wooden platform. The centurion awaited next to an old man wearing ceremonial clothes, collars of gold and a red pointed hat, with a veil on the sides that covered his ears. A long beard extended down to his belt of gold.


    Larius, the guest of honor, ascended the wooden platform and gave a bizarre speech. Since he found the round houses grotesque, he commanded the construction of a big wooden villa, which would require considerable time before its completion. He decided to settle in a tent, where the floor was covered with multiple imported carpets. That was set up in a day.


    Cladius tried as much as he could to retreat to the town market and observe the downtrodden barefoot women and the little children with dust on their faces. They all walked reluctantly, without demonstrating any emotion other than their despair.


    A woman sat next to a staircase of rock. She had strong bones and a ruddy complexion, but her lips seemed withered with hunger and thirst. Her tunic seemed to have been fine and ornate, but its colour had faded, and it was torn on the sleeves and the collar. It was of hemp, similar to linen, but not as shiny. Cladius approached her discreetly.


    ¡°Excuse me, good woman. I am a man of the capital. I was worried about what happened here. How has it been? What can we do to alleviate the suffering of this town?¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes did not blink, lost in the immensity in front of her.


    ¡°It is all gone. All. All hope. All is lost,¡± she answered.


    Cladius sighed.


    ¡°What hope?¡±


    ¡°The hope of justice. Of deliverance.¡±


    ¡°Deliverance from what? From us? Please tell me, woman,¡± Cladius spoke softly. ¡°I know a great injustice has been done in this place. Tell me, therefore, what can I do to help? Let me tell you I will do my best to alleviate your burdens.¡±


    ¡°Nothing can be done.¡± The woman cut him off. ¡°No sons, no fathers. No life. We are lost. We¡¯ve lost our way. The only thing that¡¯s left is our children. If we go to that land. To your land. We will lose them forever.¡±


    Cladius took a deep breath.


    ¡°What could I do for you?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± She shut her eyes. ¡°What could you do? You¡¯re a pawn, nothing else.¡±


    ¡°Tell me.¡± Cladius knelt in front of her. ¡°But how? Tell me about your hope.¡±


    ¡°Our¡­ Our sage. He spoke of it.¡±


    ¡°Of what? Of the Mysteries?¡±


    ¡°Of hope, of Defenders rising from the dust. From the forest.¡±


    ¡°The forest¡­¡± Cladius stood up. ¡°Tell me, who is defending.¡±


    She pointed with her finger to the wall behind them, where many signs hung. Cladius walked toward it and read through them. Crude drawings represented a couple. Another one, a young woman, and the third one, a small boy.


    ¡°Wanted alive? Is this the bane of the Empire? Four children?¡± He shook his head and walked down the stairs.


    ¡°Sire...¡± the woman called behind him.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Cladius turned.


    ¡°They captured the boy. He¡¯s in the dungeon.¡±


    ***


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    While Larius inspected the small barley farms and the immediate switch to an agriculture-based community, Cladius was supposed to oversee the remnants of the metal industry. That, he would take care of shortly. First, he wanted to see the boy that had killed two soldiers. What a murderous creature. It made him tremble, but he respected the brave commitment to defend his people.


    Cladius walked down into the basement of the old chieftain¡¯s house. Passing through the horrid smell of human waste and the sorry sight of women chained, the old guard seemed oblivious to their pain.


    ¡°There he is,¡± the guard said, pointing to a young man. A sorry sight. The boy¡¯s ribs were showing, his wrists were bloodied, bruises covered his face, and coagulated blood covered him. ¡°Totally mute.¡±


    ¡°Mute?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s always been,¡± the guard said.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    The boy quietly opened his eyes.


    ¡°Alright,¡± the guard said. ¡°So, there is not much to interrogate, as you see.¡±


    ¡°Yes...¡± Cladius cleared his throat. Could it be a cruel mistake? That boy didn¡¯t seem capable of hurting a fly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you, if you don¡¯t mind. I can¡¯t stand in this place for long,¡± the guard muttered, covering his nose.


    ¡°Please,¡± Cladius said. ¡°Do what you must.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± The man left the room promptly, disappearing through the other exit.


    Cladius stared at the boy, whose eyes fixed on him.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± Cladius muttered.


    The boy, of course did not respond, but chuckled.


    Cladius looked around and knelt.


    ¡°Boy, I really would prefer if you succeed,¡± he said in a whisper. ¡°This can never be forgiven.¡±


    Suddenly, he heard someone behind him. He turned, alarmed, and saw a young man cleaning the floor with a sponge, right at the feet of another prisoner.


    ¡°Oh...¡± Cladius turned quickly.


    ¡°No,¡± the man responded. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°And what did you do?¡± Cladius asked. ¡°You¡¯re a soldier, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was too nice to them, that¡¯s why. That old priest at the temple. He was complaining that the ropes were too tight, and I took him for a walk. I brought him back and that¡¯s when they caught me.¡±


    ¡°I see. Tends to happen,¡± Cladius said, but he knew there was more to it. He cleared his throat. ¡°So, did this boy really kill those two?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°So they¡¯re all kids. All the ones causing the trouble.¡±


    ¡°Yes, they are, very dangerous, huh?¡±


    ¡°Have you seen them?¡±


    The cleaner swallowed.


    ¡°No,¡± he said, his face turned a little paler than before.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t you?¡± Cladius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°No. I mean, I remember the girl from when we captured them all. You know, blondes are not that common back in Itruschia.¡±


    ¡°So she¡¯s blonde.¡±


    ¡°Yes, and she¡¯s about fifteen or sixteen.¡±


    ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°I think she was the daughter of the main goldsmith, blacksmith. The man really did everything. They lived at the top of the hill.¡±


    ¡°And what about the husband?¡±


    ¡°Well, they say he was a citizen. Mother was Gadalian, father is a general up north.¡±


    ¡°So a traitor.¡±


    ¡°Yes. And¡­ Something else.¡± The cleaner lowered his voice.


    ¡°These people who resist hold them as some kind of prophesied kings.¡± The man shook his head.


    Cladius paused, and for an instant looked at the boy. He quickly turned back toward the cleaner.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name, soldier?¡±


    ¡°Felix, sire.¡±


    ¡°Felix. For how long are you staying here?¡±


    ¡°A month, sire, then I¡¯m going back to normal duty.¡±


    ¡°Will they let you keep the same rank?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Cladius put his hand on Felix¡¯s naked shoulder.


    ¡°Talk to me when you¡¯re free.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sire.¡± Felix smiled faintly.


    Cladius left the prison lamenting not being able to help them. Or could he? Maybe he was being cowardly. No. His way of doing things was at the negotiating table, not there. But he was alone. All the others were on Larius¡¯ side.


    But as he walked at night through the streets of Adachia, even though their bodies were hungry and their spirits were down, he knew the numbers were on his side.


    At night, the first meeting of the Committee was held at the village¡¯s tavern. Larius ordered half the reserve of goat milk, to celebrate the end of an era. A great feast was served with perhaps the last valuable cattle of the land. A chilling breeze filled the air, carrying the scent of grilled fat.


    ¡°So, how¡¯s your research going, fellows. Florianus?¡± Larius asked, holding a vase of goat milk.


    ¡°The state of the Legion is still good,¡± Florianus said. ¡°Eight casualties on our side so far, two of whom were devoured by a bear. One missing was confirmed dead. The presence in the forest has quietly increased, but we haven¡¯t found the terrorists yet.¡±


    ¡°Only the mute boy. When¡¯s his execution?¡± He asked.


    ¡°I believe it¡¯s at the end of the week.¡±


    ¡°Bastards.¡± Larius shook his head. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ve got to move on to other topics. Cladius? Please.¡± Larius signalled at him with a smile.


    Cladius cleared his throat.


    ¡°Tomorrow I will inspect the workshop on top of the hill.¡±


    ¡°So what have you been doing all day?¡± Larius asked.


    ¡°Just getting to know the village, the people, to know what I¡¯m working with.¡±


    ¡°I see. So this is the way you work. Fair enough. Just don¡¯t get too friendly.¡± He let out a loud laugh.


    ¡°And¡­¡± Cladius said. ¡°I was thinking of importing hemp clothes. The women¡¯s industry was quite good.¡±


    ¡°That plant.¡± Larius squeezed his lips. ¡°It was also used in some rituals. Those rituals we referred to.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re talking about the roots.¡± Cladius continued. ¡°Have you seen the quality of the fabric? It¡¯s quite good. It is similar to silk if sewn properly. Perhaps we could offer it as a cheaper alternative.¡±


    ¡°Well, the distributors from the Great Trading Road won¡¯t like it.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll think about it,¡± Larius said, clearing his throat.


    Cladius¡¯ eyebrows raised.


    ¡°And¡­ So¡­ They haven¡¯t found these people. Have they? The terrorists,¡± Cladius said.


    ¡°No,¡± Floranius said.


    ¡°How often have they checked?¡±


    ¡°They do routine checks. They send a few soldiers here and there,¡± Florianus said.


    ¡°Did they not get my orders?¡± Larius asked. ¡°I told them to scan the whole thing. What if we send a full on invasion?¡±


    ¡°Invasion?¡± Cladius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Hold it right there. I know what to do.¡± Larius stood up. His one eye sparkled in the light. ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cladius asked anxiously.


    ¡°We can¡¯t find them? Big deal. We¡¯ll burn down the whole thing.¡±


    ¡°Burn it? Burn what?¡±


    ¡°The forest of course. Besides, we need to make way for farming fields. Keep that in mind. Why don¡¯t we do it now?¡±


    ¡°But¡­ The forest, it¡¯s important,¡± Cladius said.


    ¡°We¡¯re changing everything here. But, you¡¯re right. Let¡¯s do some hunting ourselves before. You¡¯re correct, there¡¯d be no fun in it if we burn it all now. We¡¯ll enjoy some hunting before the winter gets too cold. More fuel to burn.¡±


    Cladius swallowed.


    ¡°And we¡¯ll start hunting right away. About these bears. I love hunting them stinking bears. Let¡¯s hunt them all first, and display them in the town square, along with those stinking forest rats that keep killing the soldiers.¡±


    Suddenly, Florianus clapped.


    ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s solve these problems once and for all,¡± he said.


    ¡°

 Chapter XXV - The Forge

    That night, Irema sat behind Alana under the torch¡¯s fire and the tunnel¡¯s gloomy pillars and tied her hair into tight braids. Kassius painted a new stave on her arms and legs, like ancient runes and symbols of planets and stars. Alana¡¯s body ended up looking like a stellar map drawn with red ink. She covered herself with the blue overcoat, they said a prayer to Venus, and bid Irema farewell.


    Alana climbed the ladder into the great and cold forest. ¡°Blast!¡± Alana said, lantern in hand, as she pushed the hatch open and frowned at the falling snow.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Kassius asked, a few feet below her.


    ¡°It¡¯s snowing again,¡± Alana said, pulling her body up and scrambling through the hatch.


    ¡°At least it¡¯s not a snowstorm,¡± Kassius said, following her outside and extending his hand to capture minuscule snowflakes on his fur glove.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bad sign,¡± Alana said, rolling her eyes, staring at her fur coat, now covered in melting white.


    ¡°Not bad in the least,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Well, I heard about these things, that fire and snow make stronger metal.¡±


    Alana sighed.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get going, my legs are freezing.¡±


    Kassius nodded.


    They started their march up toward the village with lantern in hand. After crossing the dark forest, they put out the light when they could see the village¡¯s dim fires through the branches.


    ¡°We still have to walk up,¡± Alana said, peering through the bushes, as her old home towered like an abandoned beacon. A new, precarious roof had been constructed on top, too feeble to resist a serious snowstorm. She stopped, enthralled by the memories of pain. The last time she had been there she had seen her father¡¯s arm on the ground. His legacy defeated. Now, entering her home, to reclaim it in a way, stirred her soul with rage and love.


    ¡°So, let¡¯s go up,¡± Kassius said, waking her up from the trance.


    Alana nodded and looked at the hill below. A pair of soldiers sat about a hundred yards below, reclining against the walls and chatting. They had to jump from the bushes and cross the road to the other side. They only had to wait for the right moment and pass unnoticed. The falling snow and the murmur of the wind could shield their steps from their foes.


    ¡°At the count of three,¡± Kassius said. ¡°One, two¡­¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Alana said, lifting her hand. Kassius stared at her, confused. Silence surrounded them, until they could not hear anything but their breath and the murmur of falling snow.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Kassius whispered.


    ¡°Can you hear that?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Now!¡± Alana whispered and jumped out of the foliage.


    Kassius followed her closely. She ran up the hill and hid behind a wall. Kassius stopped by her. ¡°Ala,¡± he whispered. ¡°I can hear it.¡±


    Alana shook her head. How could it be possible? She had thought she heard it in her mind only, like a distant memory or a window into the world of the deceased. It was the sound of hammer and anvil, of iron clashing together. Her heart was filled with yearning. She started running again. They soon reached the house and waited with their backs to the wall. Now, it was more than clear.


    ¡°Who¡¯s hammering at this time?¡± Kassius whispered to her.


    ¡°Let¡¯s find out,¡± she said.


    She turned around and raised her head up and peered into the workshop. She saw a young man clumsily hammering a piece of iron. She clenched her fists.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± Kassius asked, hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°That boy,¡± Alana muttered through clenched teeth. ¡°The apprentice. Oh, how I hate that guy!¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Kassius said. ¡°Is there a chance we can walk in and do the classic move?¡±


    ¡°You mean what we did to Felix?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°We can do it.¡±


    ¡°And then?¡± Kassius asked.


    Alana swallowed.


    ¡°Well, we can knock him out.¡±


    ¡°Have you ever knocked anyone out? Either he may die, or we may just have to keep punching him until he does lose consciousness.¡±


    ¡°Then?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I say we just blindfold him and keep him on the side,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°And then he will recognize my voice and tell everybody.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Kassius said. ¡°Let¡¯s just get in, you get to work on the sword, and I keep an eye on him.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯ll have to come back to keep working on it for at least a couple of days. How do you plan to do that? It could even take us a week.¡±


    ¡°A week?¡± Kassius raised his voice. ¡°How do you think we can do that, do you want to rent the workshop during the night or something?¡± he asked sarcastically.


    ¡°Fine. Fine. Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡±


    The loud clashes between iron and iron started again, and synchronized with it, Kassius opened the wooden door. They step inside the warm building and quietly closed the door behind their backs. Alana felt strangely welcome in her old house, but things had changed a bit. The images of the Bear God had disappeared. Alana noticed a wooden structure, and in it, she saw some of her father¡¯s old weapons. A few cooking daggers, the tip of a lance he used back in the steppe, and the beautiful dragonblade. The old dragon armour was not hanging ornately on the ceiling like it did a few weeks before. It had been removed.


    Alana tiptoed through the small alley and peered into the workshop. There, she saw Fabyan with his back toward the door, his hair black and unruly, gloves and hammer in one hand, and the other holding the iron holder, as a fiery piece of iron lie over the anvil.


    Alana and Kassius repeated the procedure, advancing one on each side, one step at the time, she had the scarf in hand, ready to gag him and gain control of him.


    Fabyan kept hammering. It seemed to cause him pain, and he lowered his arm and then rotated his elbow and sighed. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.


    Alana paused for a moment, as the noise of the anvil was not hiding them anymore.


    As Fabyan turned, he recoiled in horror, stepping back and holding onto the hammer.


    ¡°You!¡± he screamed, holding the hammer threateningly.


    ¡°Yes, me!¡± Alana said, quickly unsheathing her black dagger.


    ¡°You¡¯re the traitor!¡± Fabyan said, lifting his hammer higher.


    ¡°No, you are!¡± Alana said, the dagger pointed toward him.


    ¡°How am I the traitor? Now, drop your knife or I¡¯ll scream, and soldiers will come through the door,¡± Fabyan yelled, his features showed fear and angst.


    ¡°You won¡¯t do that,¡± Alana stepped forward, and Fabyan had nowhere to go, as a step behind would be too close to the furnace.


    ¡°Oh, believe me I will,¡± Fabyan said.


    ¡°Well, I will puncture your entrails before you can say a word. And if you do. Be ready to die for your beloved Empire. Bleed to death for it.¡±


    ¡°No, you won¡¯t threaten me.¡±


    ¡°Or...¡± Alana lifted his hands. ¡°Decide.¡±


    ¡°No, no, no!¡±


    Alana jumped forward and pushed the knife to the boy¡¯s neck. Fabyan dropped the hammer and it bounced on the stone floor.


    ¡°Or we can reach an agreement,¡± Alana said into his hairy ears.


    ¡°No agreements with traitors,¡± he grumbled.


    ¡°Traitor?¡± Alana whispered. ¡°I¡¯m not your neighbour. They killed my father. Does it feel good on your conscience? We were so good to you. He¡­¡± Alana pressed the knife harder, threatening to cut his throat. Fabyan gasped, and a drop of blood slid over his neck. ¡°He was so good to you that he would teach you instead of his only daughter. His only daughter. Even though you¡¯re stupid and have no talent, he would try his best.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I...¡± Fabyan started to breathe like a tired dog.


    ¡°Now, you could repay us. We won¡¯t hurt you. But...¡±


    ¡°Alana!¡± Kassius yelled behind her. ¡°Make him swear.¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°Fine. We are giving you a chance,¡± Alana whispered in his ear. ¡°Do you swear an oath not to turn us in, and we will let you live.¡±


    ¡°I...¡±


    ¡°Do you respect anything in this world? Swear it on your mother.¡±


    Fabyan swallowed. ¡°I swear on my mother¡¯s honour that...¡± He blinked. ¡°That I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°That you¡¯re not going to turn us in.¡±


    ¡°That I¡¯m not going to turn you in,¡± he repeated.


    Alana looked at Kassius in the eye. He nodded, and she put the knife down.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Fabyan asked.


    ¡°I need to make a sword.¡±


    ¡°Make? Just take one and go!¡± he put his hands on the anvil. The red hot iron was still on the side with the pincers attached. ¡°Leave me alone.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that simple. I need to make one.¡±


    ¡°Make?¡± Fabyan shook his head. ¡°How can you make a sword?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m better than you, and you know it!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be...¡±


    ¡°And why are you hammering that iron so late in the night?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°Because,¡± he turned his back. ¡°I¡¯m in charge. I have to produce something because they¡¯re coming for inspection tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Inspection?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡± he turned toward her, distress in his voice. ¡°They¡¯ve come. The governor himself. I think he ordered the attack. He¡¯s come with his people.


    ¡°He did what?¡±


    Alana raised her head. A sudden pulse of hatred entered her soul.


    ¡°He ordered the attack on the village,¡± Fabyan repeated.


    ¡°I see.¡± Alana grasped the dagger firmly. Suddenly, her holding it took a new meaning. She wished she could dig that dagger through the man¡¯s heart. ¡°Now,¡± she looked straight at Fabyan. ¡°How is your production going?¡±


    ¡°As you see, very slow.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll help you with this and¡­ I will make my own. Alright? Do you have enough wood to keep the furnace up through the night?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    Fabyan took a deep breath.


    ¡°¡°Kassius, would you mind finding a nice piece of iron to use? From that pile over there.¡± She pointed at a wooden chest with many bits and pieces in it.


    ¡°What¡¯s a good piece?¡± Kassius asked.


    ¡°I will do that. Then you help this guy with the hammer. Just hit it to make it even and flat. Fabyan will tell you how to do it.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± Kassius muttered.


    Alana approached the chest and knelt to remove the pieces.


    ¡°So...¡± she said, as she removed a straight rod that seemed to be of fine steel. ¡°Perfect!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Fabyan said. ¡°That¡¯s the only twisted steel piece we have.¡±


    ¡°But I can¡¯t use iron.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with iron?¡±


    ¡°Steel is better.¡±


    ¡°Ala, they didn¡¯t have iron back then.¡±


    ¡°When back then, how do you know?¡±


    ¡°Books.¡±


    ¡°You and your books. Go on, hammer that iron bar.¡±


    piece. It was a small plate shaped like an arch, it had a small sunflower engraving.


    ¡°Oh, sweet Venus, I had not seen this one before.¡±


    She lifted it carefully. The sunflower handmade pores representing the seeds, and the petals were designed with small incisions that made them pop and look like the real deal. Around it were designs of trees and hard Latin letters engraved in them.


    ¡°What caught your attention like that?¡± Kassius said, clumsily hitting the piece as Fabyan stretched his own arm.


    ¡°It¡¯s a golden ornament my father made. It¡¯s really pretty. I think it¡¯s a piece to adorn the crosshead of a ceremonial sword or something.¡±


    She sighed and looked at it. One thing with iron, it required skill but also strength. But she felt incapable of creating something as beautiful in gold. If only she had been trained instead of that boy.


    ¡°Let me see it,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she stood up. ¡°There¡¯s something written.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that one,¡± Fabyan said. ¡°He never told you?¡±


    ¡°What? No. My father?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Careful,¡± she said, handing it to Kassius with both hands.


    He stared and it and immediately closed his eyes.


    ¡°Alana.¡±


    ¡°What? Kassius, why are you crying?¡±


    ¡°It has your name written on it.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she muttered, as if a knife had pierced her lungs and shortened her breath. Kassius returned it swiftly. She stared at it, it seemed like her father¡¯s love and skill had forged that image, that illusion. Its radiance reflected love. Was that the special project he was working on?


    She pressed it against her chest and felt a tear slip down her cheek.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get to work,¡± she said, her voice cut through by the pain. ¡°Kassius, help him. I will make the Sword of Ares.¡±


    She knelt next to the chest once again and noticed something familiar. She reached for it at the bottom of the chest and pulled it out.


    ¡°What?¡± she stood up immediately. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± She turned around and faced Fabyan with a frown.


    ¡°Sorry, I had to use it!¡±


    Alana stared at what was now a partial dragon armour. Half of it was gone, and a big part of it deformed from heat.


    ¡°I am sorry!¡± Fabyan said. ¡°I needed steel!¡±


    Alana felt as if the imaginary stabs in her back multiplied. But no, she had been through things a million times worse. She stared at what the armor had been and realized the metal was of the best quality and pure. She could melt the scaly armor, merge it into one, and use it to make the sword. Yes, an honourable end for her father¡¯s defaced armour.


    Without a word, she removed her cloak, revealing the strange sigils on her body, and placed the cloak on the furnace. She put the rest of the armor in the furnace and pressed the pedal to increase the heat and watched as it lightened to red. She got to work immediately, removing it with the pincers, first twisting it, then hammering the long piece, thinning out the side to make it ready to be put inside. Then, she hammered it again, flattening it until her arm felt like it was about to fall off.


    After hours of hammering, the shape was almost ideal. The twists inside had been flattened, and soon, she would put it outside in the dew to cool off. Then, Alana decided to prepare the handle and crucible. For the crucible, she selected from a bunch of small iron pieces. After heating them, she shaped them like an arch and then passed it through the fitting.


    Kassius and Fabyan worked on their own swords on the bigger anvil. Kassius was obviously not experienced at such an art, the hammering and the shaping was sloppy, and he routinely complained about the pain in his shoulders. However, his work would prove invaluable after Fabyan¡¯s corrections.


    They concentrated so much on their work that the sunlight started shining through the curtains. Then, Alana¡¯s stomach turned inside her, and she glanced at Kassius in panic.


    ¡°Kasha, let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    He nodded, his face pale and his eyes wide open.


    Alana opened the curtains slightly and peered out. Cold frost covered the ground and the bushes below. She recoiled in fear as she saw soldiers already patrolling the streets. She let go of the curtain and stepped back.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to get out quickly,¡± she said.


    Fabyan looked at them.


    ¡°Yes. Thanks for the help, at least we have five swords cooling off now. Now it will be easier.¡±


    ¡°We may come back tonight,¡± she said.


    ¡°Tonight? I need to get some sleep!¡± Fabyan complained.


    ¡°Well sleep now,¡± Alana suggested dryly.


    ¡°They won¡¯t let me. Need to keep working.¡±


    ¡°Come on. We also need to come here tonight.¡±


    ¡°Come tomorrow night. Give me a break today and then we¡¯ll continue.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have much time!¡± Alana grabbed her coat and put it on, pulling the hood down.


    ¡°Ah¡­ I forgot to ask you,¡± Fabyan said.


    ¡°What?¡± Alana asked, uninterested.


    ¡°Do you know anything about that boy they¡¯re going to execute?¡±


    ¡°What boy?¡± she shook her head. Those words together, boy and execution, sounded terrible.


    ¡°The mute.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Alana¡¯s heart jumped in horror. She paused. That had to be a mistake. Kassius was as pale as a ghost. He swallowed and remained with his mouth open.


    Suddenly, they heard a bang on the door. Alana and Kassius stared at each other, both pale and with heavy hearts.


    ¡°Who is that?¡± Kassius whispered.


    ¡°Quick. Hide,¡± Fabyan said. Alana reacted and rushed to the back room, where she used to sleep. The two small mattresses were still there, but now a pile of metal objects covered her old cozy bed.


    She quickly knelt and hid underneath. She peered outside, planning to invite Kassius to hide with her, but she realized they would probably not fit.


    Even more, her shadow was still visible from underneath.


    ¡°I will hide behind the wall,¡± Kassius whispered and stood with his back next to the entrance.


    The banging on the main door grew louder.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming, I¡¯m coming,¡± Fabyan said.


    Alana tried to hide under the bed, pressing her shoulders against the cold walls, and still trying to make sense of what she had just heard. Tor captured? Executed?


    And the door opened.


    ¡°Good morning, sires,¡± Fabyan said. ¡°Please come in. I have been waiting for you.¡±


    ¡°Forgive us for coming this early,¡± said a deep voice. Also with an accent from the capital.


    ¡°My workshop is at your service.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± the voice said, and he wiped his boots on the carpet. Then, the man stepped inside, and Alana realized there was someone else with him. ¡°My name is Cladius Duodecimus, Senator and part of the Commission for New Tharcia, and this is Governor Larius.¡±


    ¡°Nice to see you again, my lords,¡± Fabyan said.


    ¡°Do not call us lords, young man. You will soon be like us. We are equals,¡± responded the governor.


    Meanwhile, Alana was perplexed. The man who had ordered the murder of her village was standing a few feet from her. And what should she do? She imagined grabbing her knife, declaring justice, and attacking. Yes, facing him.


    ¡°So, let us see how the production is going,¡± Cladius said, as the group moved into the workshop.


    ¡°Yes, sire, as you see, we have been preparing these swords, already made with their fittings and all. These are cooling off.¡±


    ¡°All by yourself?¡± Cladius asked.


    ¡°Yes. In a way. Well, I have received help as well.¡±


    ¡°Help from whom?¡± Larius bluntly asked.


    ¡°Help from¡­¡±


    Alana unsheathed her dagger slowly, making sure no one could hear, and she held it tightly. She caught Kassius¡¯ glance. He shook his head.


    ¡°Not bad,¡± Cladius said. ¡°But you will need more people in order to produce it. For now, however, this is the usual work of a blacksmith, but how about the renowned bronze and gold crafts?¡±


    ¡°I will start as soon as this batch of iron is done.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± the deep-voiced invader said.


    ¡°So a week, at most,¡± Fabyan clarified.


    ¡°We plan on staying for two weeks,¡± that Cladius fellow said. ¡°Hope your progress is as quick and efficient when it comes to gold and bronze.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, sire.¡±


    ¡°And what could we do about the slaves?¡± It was the voice of the other man. That had to be Larius. It was a bit higher than his companion¡¯s, and flamboyant, yet masculine. ¡°May we meet the ones who are working so hard to bring about this work.¡±


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± Fabyan asked, startled.


    ¡°Yes, Fabyan. Are they shy? We overheard them from outside.¡±


    ¡°No, good sir, they...¡±


    ¡°Good morning, good men,¡± Kassius said, and Alana felt her soul was escaping from her body as he stepped into the main workshop.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± the other three muttered.


    ¡°And who are you? You are not from here, are you?¡± the governor asked.


    ¡°Nay, good sire, I¡¯m a slave born in the Land of the Hares, west of the Empire,¡± he said with a lisp.


    ¡°Oh, from Iberia? What are you doing so far in the East?¡±


    ¡°He¡­¡± Fabyan cleared his throat.


    ¡°I have served Master Fabyan¡¯s house for ever. My family has, my Lord. So, I have come to assist my master.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Cladius said. ¡°Then, keep up the good work.¡±


    ¡°What about the other one?¡± Larius asked.


    ¡°The other what?¡± Cladius asked.


    ¡°The woman,¡± Larius¡¯ voice was suspicious.


    ¡°What woman?¡± Both Fabyan and Kassius asked.


    ¡°There was a woman.¡±


    The three of them looked at Fabyan, who stood with his hands back and his head down.


    He shook his head.


    ¡°Come on, young Fabyan. Let us meet this woman,¡± the governor insisted.


    ¡°

 Chapter XXVI - Escape the Fate

    Governor Larius pranced around the room, examining the walls, the cupboards, and the inside of the chests.


    Fabyan and Kassius remained in the workshop, with their eyes ever fixed on the man. A million thoughts raced through Kassius¡¯ mind. What could he do if he found her? That was not only Alana¡¯s demise, but also his. He would have to fight back. He took a step back, next to the pile of old swords and daggers. He quietly reached for a small one. Should he stab the man in the back? He had a sword. Both would defend themselves. And how would Fabyan react? What if he tried to kill both visitors, what would he do about Fabyan?


    Larius slowly crouched and looked under the bed.


    Kassius swallowed.


    Then, Larius stood up and opened the window. He turned back toward the forge and strode out of the room.


    ¡°I swear I heard a woman¡¯s voice,¡± he said, narrowing his eyes.


    ¡°That is strange,¡± Kassius responded in his best Iberian accent.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Larius tapped on Kassius¡¯ shoulder, as Kassius put his hands behind his back, hiding the knife. ¡°Keep up the good work. I beg you forgive my suspicions, but there are wanted men around. And girls. Do you people know about them? Have you seen them before?¡±


    ¡°Certainly, sir,¡± Fabyan responded. ¡°We¡¯ve met them, and we keep our eyes open, I mean, when we get the time to go out.¡±


    ¡°Have you been in that forest, young master?¡± Larius asked with his only visible eyebrow raised.


    ¡°I¡­ I have not,¡± Fabyan said.


    ¡°Let me ask your young slave.¡± He turned toward Kassius and put his hands through his messy hair. ¡°You, as Iberians are renowned for their hare-hunting skills; are you aware of the fauna of this forests. I am planning to go for a hunt one of these days.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± Kassius swallowed. ¡°Well...¡±


    ¡°Have you been in the woods, young man?¡±


    ¡°I do not go out all that often,¡± Kassius muttered.


    ¡°Because your boots are quite wasted and muddy.¡± Governor Larius looked at his feet. ¡°As if you had dragged yourself through a swamp. Over and over again.¡±


    ¡°These are the only ones I have, sire,¡± Kassius stuttered.


    ¡°Have you? Have you not been in those woods? Could you tell me what I need to know?¡±


    ¡°Well, what is my lord interested in hunting?¡±


    ¡°Bears.¡±


    ¡°I know of bears. There must be. They are common, but I have neither seen nor heard of any.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough. Now, gentlemen,¡± Cladius interrupted. ¡°We have to check the other forge. And the weaver¡¯s workshop too. We haven¡¯t got all day.¡±


    ¡°We have time, Cladius,¡± the governor said, then turned toward the boys. ¡°Would you mind if we stay for lunch?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid we have nothing,¡± Fabyan added. ¡°We have, honestly, no food. I relied on the goodwill of the people of the barracks as of now.¡±


    ¡°Sire,¡± Cladius kept cutting them off. ¡°We won¡¯t have time to visit.¡±


    ¡°Patience, Cladius,¡± Larius cleared his throat. ¡°So, in that case. Keep up the good work.¡±


    ¡°We will, sire,¡± Fabyan answered for both.


    ¡°Thank you for your time, gentlemen,¡± Cladius solemnly said, as he turned toward the door and opened it. The outside was now white with frost and snow. Larius walked behind him.


    Fabyan rushed to close the door behind the men and Kassius sighed with relief.


    ¡°That was intense,¡± he said, blinking and shaking his head.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Fabyan said. ¡°Now, thank you for your help, but please get out before they come back.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Kassius walked to the room and looked around. He didn¡¯t see traces of Alana. He looked out the window, glancing sideways.


    Suddenly, he heard a noise directly beneath. Alana¡¯s face emerged from a pile of hay. She spat bits and pieces and quickly stood up, reaching for the window frame and pushing herself in. Kassius took her by the hand and helped her down. She shook off her clothes, and dust and hay descended on the floor.


    ¡°I¡¯d sweep this myself but I¡¯m dead tired, Fabyan,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Ah, do you think your friend here is less tired than you?¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, leave it,¡± Fabyan said.


    ¡°My gods...¡± Alana shook her head and stared at her long hair and the stubborn pieces of hay that just wouldn¡¯t fall off. She shook them off again.


    ¡°Thank the gods you¡¯re safe,¡± Kassius said, making eye contact and smiling slightly.


    ¡°We¡¯re safe,¡± she said, lowering her head.


    ¡°And¡­ Now what?¡±


    ¡°We have to rescue Tor.¡± She lifted her chin.


    ¡°Are you out of your mind? That is suicidal. How?¡±


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    ¡°We have to.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we have to finish the sword too. Pick one.¡±


    ¡°Tor is in danger!¡± Alana insisted.


    ¡°Yes, but how can we rescue him? And we need the gem and the sword to work, if not, he will burn the forest and obliterate us.¡±


    ¡°Kassius, do you even know where the gem is?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m seeing it in visions. I think I know. I think I can find it today, but it will be dangerous too.¡±


    ¡°Well, then you¡¯ve got to find it today. And you¡¯re right about the timing. He¡¯s gonna burn the forest!¡±


    ¡°Well, we can stay inside our little place, can¡¯t we?¡± Kassius suggested.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get the sword and defend the forest.¡±


    Kassius sighed.


    ¡°I agree, but¡­ Wait¡­ I¡¯ve got an idea.¡±


    ¡°Please discuss your ideas on the way,¡± Fabyan muttered.


    ¡°So do you plan on having the sword ready by tomorrow?¡± Kassius asked.


    ¡°Yes. I mean, having a rough draft and enough to put the gem inside. You told me how it looks. We need to flatten it a bit, and have Tor make the crucible after I bring him to the forest. To look just like it¡¯s supposed to. Fabyan, do you still have ebony by any chance?¡±


    ¡°Get it from the carpenter,¡± he said.


    ¡°Do you have it or not?¡± Alana insisted.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Blast! Anyway, I¡¯ll rescue Tor tonight, you go in search of the gem and we gather here and...¡±


    Suddenly the door flew open again. Alana, Fabyan, and Kassius stared at it, their faces pale and their jaws dropping as one of the foreigners peeked inside. That time, Alana could not hide.


    Cladius, the dark-skinned delegate from Itruschia stood with one hand on the door, one foot inside, the other in the snow.


    ¡°Young men, if you are free tonight,¡± he faced Alana, looking at her in the eye. ¡°I have invited all of the soldiers to a big feast. All, especially the ones in the prison. Thank you, I had forgotten to say this. Especially you, I hope you can take this opportunity. Have a good day.¡±


    He shut the door.


    They stared at each other in silence, until Alana cleared her throat.


    ¡°F-f-abyan? Do you have iron oxide by any chance?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s in a glass jar under the cupboard,¡± he answered, his face still as pale as paper and his mouth half-open.


    Alana turned her back and rushed to the cupboard. She fidgeted through the jars, half distracted. What she had just experienced had been surreal. What did he mean the ones in the prison? Did that mean he had cleared the way for her to go to the prison that night and rescue Tor? He had probably recognized Kassius from the pictures and the description. But why? Why help them? Was it a trap? Was it going to be an ambush? If so, why not capture them then and there?


    That was too much information for too short a time frame. She kept pawing through the jars, realizing there was something wrong.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± she complained. ¡°You changed them all and labelled them with letters. What is this black glass? They all look the same.¡± She took one from the cupboard and lifted it against the light.


    ¡°That¡¯s powdered carbon,¡± Kassius said.


    Alana frowned.


    ¡°Oh, that one¡¯s the oxide,¡± Fabyan said, pointing at the third jar over the cupboard.


    She nodded and opened the jar. A rusty smell invaded the air.


    ¡°What are you gonna do with that?¡± Kassius raised an eyebrow. To his surprise, Alana opened and poured the powder on the table and added olive oil from the counter, then she started to smear it on her hair. It worked as a kind of dye, painting it red.


    ¡°Mirror,¡± she said, extending her hand. Kassius quickly gave her the only mirror in the house, a broken one. ¡°Perfect,¡± she said.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Kassius said. ¡°Did I mention that redheads drive me crazy?¡±


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± she asked, turning around.


    ¡°I like it.¡± Kassius cleared his throat.


    ¡°So, that means you never liked my natural hair.¡±


    ¡°I did not say that, I like you anyway, but...¡±


    ¡°So you like me, huh?¡±


    ¡°I mean...¡±


    ¡°Fine. Do I look different?¡±


    ¡°You do.¡±


    ¡°Will anyone...¡±


    ¡°If they know you, they will. Soldiers will not, though, I think. Well,¡± Kassius looked through the window. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. Give me your girly coat.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± she said, handing it to him. He quickly put it on, they muttered a goodbye and left into the cold.


    ***


    After sleeping ten hours and eating forest mice, Alana and Kassius got ready. Kassius¡¯ ready was sitting in front of a flame. The exercise would allow him to access visions, but something was missing. He had drawn a circle around him, along with the runes. He had sworn righteousness in judgment and deed.


    Alana stood beside him.


    ¡°Kasha, I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    Kassius sighed. His concentration had been broken.


    He turned around and stood up. The light illumined her figure. The red markings on her hands and legs were still there. Her hair was now red as fire. Her eyes blue like clouded sky and her lips, even though dry, more desirable than a ripe fruit. Was it the fast that had made him so sensitive to her beauty? Or was it something else that he had hidden for so many years?


    He swallowed and glanced at her.


    ¡°I¡­ I wish you luck and...¡±


    Alana¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the ground beneath. He walked toward her and looked her in the eye. The red hair made her look different, but the blue eyes were the same. He looked into them and saw the fire and his own reflection. He looked more and more like a skeleton.


    Alana shut her eyes for an instant and hugged him tightly. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, and he returned the gesture, feeling her warmth around him like a cozy fireplace, and the caress of her hair, like a sweet blanket of dreams.


    ¡°Alana¡­ I want to say...¡±


    ¡°Thanks for everything, Kasha.¡±


    Words were about to come out. He just let go.


    ¡°I love you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She lifted her head.


    ¡°Sorry. It just slipped out of my mouth.¡±


    ¡°Kassius, I love you too.¡±


    Kassius smiled dumbfounded.


    Alana chuckled.


    ¡°I guess we are...¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re husband and wife,¡± Kassius said, then swallowed, as if he had messed up. But it felt right. Besides, he may not see her again.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I was wondering...¡± Kassius scratched his head.


    ¡°What were you wondering?¡± Alana asked, raising an eyebrow. Their eyes locked for an instant that extended forever, and Kassius¡¯ glance slid down to her lips. Chapped, but sweet, like soft roses in the rain.


    Alana¡¯s skin colour slightly changed, as if blood had filled the vessels underneath. Her cheeks became pink, her mouth slightly opened. Kassius closed his eyes slowly, they both drew closer, and their lips touched like leaves caressed by the wind.


    They let go immediately, with just a touch of her humid lips like dew upon fresh petals.


    ¡°I have to go,¡± she said, turning her back and rushing to the edge of the tunnel. Then, she faced him for the last time. ¡°And, again, I love you too,¡± she softly replied.


    Kassius sighed, but the smile did not fade from his lips. He walked back into his magical circle and sat, thinking of how dumb they both had been. After living together through the harshest of times, sleeping together, doing everything together.


    He shut his eyes, and a light shone in his mind. It was green, like a jewel in his dreams. It sparkled, and a strange bolt of lightning was drawn in his head.


    Kassius recited the enchantment once again.


    A bolt of lightning, a dark forest, an underground cave.


    A den.

 Chapter XXVII - Leadership

    When Alana stepped outside, the sun was setting and again, snow was falling, forming a layer of white. She strolled to the forest before curfew and confidently walked up to the workshop. Soldiers around her did not notice anything strange, but one of them turned swiftly and whistled indecently. She ignored him, never taking her eyes off the hilltop house, and continued her way.


    She knocked on the door of her old house, thinking how a mere month ago, father would receive her. Fabyan opened quickly and quietly.


    ¡°Hi,¡± she said.


    ¡°Come in,¡± he muttered, glancing sideways.


    ¡°Did you sleep?¡± Alana said, stepping inside and wiping her boots against the rocky floor.


    ¡°I did, but I barely ate,¡± Fabyan said, rushing through the hallway. He soon returned to the workshop and crouched next to the furnace, he rubbed two stones together in front of the furnace and sparkles came out, lightening the flammable material inside.


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, walking toward the furnace. ¡°I have only three hours.¡±


    ¡°Three hours?¡± Fabyan straightened his body in shock. He stared at her in amazement.


    ¡°Yes. After that, I have other things to do.¡±


    ¡°Other things?¡± he raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°You heard me earlier, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± Fabyan shrugged. ¡°Anyway, I only want to make this batch and be done with it.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± she said, pressing on the pedal and making the fire grow more intense. ¡°Got the pieces?¡± she asked.


    The work was strenuous, as she worked on to make the inner portion and get the blade ready. They assembled it, and after the shape of the Sword of Ares was flat enough, she put it out in the snow. The sword of Ares was ready, in a way. The metal guide had finally been flattened into the shape of a sword. She had polished it a bit, but it still looked rough and rugged, still a piece of metal. There was no time for the designs she had in mind for the handle, and she needed Tor, the only one who knew how to whit wood, to create the crucible she needed, big enough to hold the two gems; with wavy engravings representing a sun, and black in colour, like the night sky.


    When she was done, she bid Fabyan farewell, filled up Kassius¡¯ leather travel bag with daggers, including the old dragon sword, much to Fabyan¡¯s protests and the New Sword of Ares. She wrapped them in blankets so as to not make them clank.


    The air was cold again, and she shivered, but kept her expression stern as she walked down the streets.


    ¡°Hey, woman, it¡¯s curfew, either you¡¯re at the feast or you¡¯re locked inside!¡± one of the soldiers snapped at her.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± she said, without turning back. ¡°I¡¯m running back home.¡±


    ¡°If we see you again, we¡¯ll lock you up!¡± the soldier yelled back.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Alana repeated, and rushed down the streets. She had to get to the lowest part, but she decided that walking so confidently so late at night could be dangerous, so she rushed to hide behind a wall. The next couple of soldiers were marching, their thick fur coats on. She waited until they had passed her, and she walked from behind the round house. She could see the lights illumining the market square, and lots of people there, as if there was really time for happiness. That illusion could be sold in the capital, pretending the Gadalian people, or what was left of it, was pacified. What greater torture could be conceived, to feast where their husbands and fathers had been murdered weeks before?


    When she reached the big dark building that used to be the chieftain¡¯s house, she quickly glanced through the window. The inside was dark, so she rushed past to the front door, careful that no one was watching, and quietly tried to push it. The door did not move.


    She should have thought of that. She knelt and looked into the keyhole. How could she open a lock? She should have researched beforehand. Now? That was her only chance. The way could be to break through the window, but it would make too much noise.


    Maybe there was no other way. She turned to the other side, but something caught her feet and she tripped forward.


    Suddenly, she heard the door creak open. She had no time to hide, as she struggled to ignore the pain on her palms. The door opened and a face peeked out in the dark.


    The figure seemed to want to see Alana more clearly, and he stepped out, opening the door completely.


    There stood a young man with short, brown hair.


    ¡°Oh¡­ How did¡­?¡± The young man raised an eyebrow in surprise. ¡°How did you know I was going to be here?¡±


    ¡°It cannot be!¡± Alana stood up, then covered her mouth realizing she had been too loud.


    ¡°Come in,¡± Felix said quietly, opening the door wide for her. She entered, leaving the cold outside, but frightened at what she would find inside. Felix closed the door behind her. The dark was only kept at bay with a small oil lamp on a table.


    ¡°How come?¡± Alana said, shaking her head.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been punished, and look, I¡¯m here, taking care of the prisoners.¡±


    ¡°Is there anyone else?¡± she asked, peering into the dark.


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    ¡°Not at this time. Well, the soldiers outside, that¡¯s it, but I¡¯m the only one guarding the place.¡±


    ¡°Amazing. I got lucky today.¡±


    ¡°Scary stuff.¡±


    ¡°So...¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°I don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯ve come to¡­ To free him.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Felix took a deep breath.


    ¡°Miss, I am here to guard them.¡±


    ¡°He will die! Felix, please don¡¯t make me force you. Please help me, I don¡¯t want to hurt you.¡±


    ¡°The boy is a good person. A genuinely good person,¡± Felix muttered.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t let him die,¡± Alana boldly said.


    ¡°Time comes, it waits for no one.¡±


    ¡°Felix! What are you saying? Why do you think I¡¯m here and you¡¯re here, by yourself?¡±


    ¡°Coincidence,¡± he muttered, looking down.


    ¡°It¡¯s for a reason. The gods allowed it. Can¡¯t you see?¡±


    ¡°Well, there are many gods and they want different things.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who is taking care of us, but he really is taking care of me. And you. So please help me. You¡¯re here, you can free him.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t die, soldiers are all around, there is no way to escape, besides¡­ Miss, they¡¯re going to hunt them down, they plan to burn the forest. There is nowhere to escape. Better to...¡±


    Alana shut her eyes for an instant.


    ¡°Felix, I know that. Believe me, we have found a way. There are places to hide, where flames will never reach us.¡±


    ¡°Miss, I cannot dishonour my Empire again.¡±


    ¡°Felix, don¡¯t be foolish. Do what is right.¡±


    ¡°Miss, I can keep you here, I can allow you to talk to the boy, but...¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Felix.¡±


    Alana made her eyes blank, she reached for the bag and took out her black dagger.


    Felix opened his eyes wide and stepped back, afraid.


    But Alana turned it around and offered the handle to him.


    ¡°Felix, I can give you this. I have one for myself, and more for him and anyone else that has been unjustly imprisoned.¡±


    ¡°You are offering this to me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Felix, join me. For freedom.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ Alana, my dream is back home, with Domitia.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you to let her go, but there is a way.¡± But she was not sure how. She was afraid of failing him. If she made a promise to him, she had to make it come true, no matter what.


    ¡°There is no way.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but things will be right. We will make them right.¡±


    ¡°For you, not for me...¡±


    Felix cleared his throat.


    ¡°But you¡¯re right¡­ They¡­ Tor was fighting for freedom, his freedom, but under the law of the Empire he deserves death. But the other ones¡­ They don¡¯t deserve any of it.¡±


    ¡°No one does.¡±


    ¡°Miss, I¡­ I will free them. But hurt me.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, wound me. In the chest. Wound me so they believe I fought back. So that they may forgive me and will maybe send me home. I don¡¯t know if her parents would accept me. But I am willing to do it.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t hurt you, Felix.¡±


    ¡°When you see them down there, you will wish to kill me.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡± Felix handed her a bronze key.


    Alana frowned.


    Felix nodded and guided her through the basement door. Her stomached turned within even before he stepped in. The smell was unsettling and impregnated the place. The light slowly revealed the silhouettes of the imprisoned women. Hrezia of Adachia, a young daughter of the Chieftain. This had been her home. Now, her brown hair was falling off, and Alana could see the lacerations around her neck and head.


    ¡°Alana...¡± the girl muttered. She looked more like an old lady now.


    ¡°Hrezia...¡± Alana said, as she knelt beside.


    ¡°I knew¡­ We all knew,¡± the imprisoned girl said, a faint smile appearing on her lips.


    ¡°Is it her?¡± Other voices echoed around her.


    ¡°Hail to you,¡± another one said. ¡°For you come in our time of dread.¡±


    ¡°Gitara? You¡­ But your husband.¡±


    ¡°I have rebelled. I have¡­ I have fought against them.¡±


    ¡°Gitara, why you? Gitara...¡± Alana cleared her throat. ¡°But today I will free you all.¡±


    ¡°You may leave us, we will depart in peace knowing you are fighting back,¡± Gitara said.


    ¡°No,¡± Alana raised her head. ¡°You may live.¡±


    Suddenly, a burst of light extended behind them, and Alana turned, frightened.


    Felix had lightened the torches on the wall, and the pitiful scene displayed. Tor was chained at the end, hanging like a scarecrow. When he saw her, he chuckled.


    Alana lowered her head, as what she saw hurt her deeply. She rushed to open the shackles, and his arms descended slowly, as if they had forgotten how to move.


    The freed women knelt.


    ¡°Alana of Adachia, our leader,¡± Gitara said boldly. ¡°We hail you as our new Chieftain.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Alana said. ¡°I am your sister. Nothing else.¡±


    She took out the weapons from the bag and held them under her shoulder.


    ¡°Whoever feels ready to use them in defence, please take them.¡± A handful of them, Gitara, Raxana, and four other older women moved toward her and solemnly received the knives and swords. And some of the older women, including Kassara, had commanded hordes in the steppe. ¡°The gods are on our side. The sword of Ares has been forged again. Soon, it will be completely mended and ready for battle.¡±


    Gitara made them circle around her, like the grandparents did, and extend their weapons as if swearing an oath. Tor was the last one. She gave him the gladius.


    ¡°It¡¯s been waiting for you,¡± Alana said.


    Tor smiled, like a child being acknowledged by his mother, but his glance was lost a thousand yards in front of him.


    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± Alana said, and they marched together toward the door.


    When Alana exited, she saw Felix pressing his shoulders against the window.


    Alana noticed a stream of blood pouring from his bosom. The wound was long, piercing through his chest. He closed his eyes in pain.


    ¡°It¡¯s time now...¡± he muttered, his voice cutting off through pain.


    ¡°Felix, why did you do that!¡±


    ¡°Please go now.¡±


    ¡°I cannot let you die.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t die, I¡¯ll just be in deep pain until they find me. I will not scream until you are far enough.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t s¡­ Well, you¡¯re really holding yourself,¡± she sighed. ¡°Thank you, Felix.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. I am eternally grateful. You two saved my life.¡±


    ¡°Felix, please, back in the forest, I was telling Kassius not to forgive you, I do not deserve anything from you.¡±


    ¡°By the way,¡± he stuttered. ¡°There¡¯s a man who can help you, in case¡­ Something happens?¡±


    ¡°Who is it?¡±


    ¡°The Senator. The one¡­ Augh¡­ The dark one.¡±


    ¡°The inspector? He came to the workshop.¡±


    ¡°He¡­ He wants to help us. The one with a missing eye is the bad one.¡±


    ¡°Good to know. We were planning to kill both. He told me today was my chance, in a way.¡±


    Alana nodded. The women and Tor solemnly said goodbye to Felix, as Alana quietly opened the door. A cold breeze pierced through. She looked back. The women were not dressed adequately for walking out in the snow. Alana lowered her head thinking what to do.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry for us,¡± Gitara said.


    ¡°I promise a warm fire when we get to our place,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Yes! Yes!¡± Raxana, another veteran said, the excitement in her face was unconstrained.


    ¡°Out!¡± Alana said and marched out with the group. They only needed to cross the road, walk silently through the few houses behind, and get lost in the forest. There was no one on the street but walking through it felt like an eternity.


    When she got to the edge of the road, she stopped next to two high trees and signalled the women to rush. They couldn¡¯t be too loud.


    Suddenly, she heard the faint sound of water flowing behind her. She turned around and saw Felix advancing toward her, his eyes wide open, face pale, and his hand pressed against his wound.


    ¡°Hey, Felix, please get back.¡±


    But Felix was looking at something behind Alana. She turned around and saw a familiar silhouette. Full armour, his back against her and his hand in front. A stream of urine came out of him. He was as startled, with his scarred face turned toward her, as he was surprised.

 Chapter XXVIII - The Great Old Ones

    ¡°Kassius.¡± Irema stood beside Kassius, as he faced the iron ladder that lead to the dark cold forest. ¡°Please, eat something.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he simply said, trying the tension of his bow. He felt something was missing. His faith in what he had been shown pulsated through him, but not having any fear was impossible for any man.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t wasted three hours of life trying to fish for something, for you to waste it. It could be your last dinner.¡±


    Kassius had enough of her morbid sense of humour.


    ¡°You eat,¡± he said.


    ¡°I already ate. Besides, you should keep something for Alana and Tor.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said. She hugged him from behind, and quickly let go. ¡°And please be careful.¡± Her voice broke into sobs.


    Kassius took a deep breath and prayed once again. The message in his mind had been clear. Or had it not?


    But what he was about to do was anything but safe. And sane, for that matter. His three remaining arrows, recycled after hunting over and over were his only true defence, along with the fish on his back he carried in case he was trapped in the place of his visions. And¡­ Did it make any sense? Killing the only creature that had saved his wife?


    Kassius finally stepped forward, where snow had covered the lower part on the entrance and had now melted into water. He grabbed the ice-cold iron bars and climbed up, as his equipment seemed to drag him back. Used ropes, a stolen brass lantern, and a few hammers and nails in case he needed to slide down a cavern.


    This night was the coldest so far. Snow poured like arrows from heaven.


    Kassius walked on into the cold. Even though the darkness was too much, he knew the forest well. The cave was not too far, although the heavy snow made the passage frightening.


    Kassius strode forward, lantern in hand. And as he pressed on, he heard a howl in the distance.


    He looked around. Wolves? He had not seen them. Maybe they had migrated looking for food. Maybe they had smelled the sheep in the old farms. Could they smell from so far?


    Kassius walked more carefully. If he were to encounter wolves, a knife would be of no help. If an angry dog could bite him faster than he could brandish a long sword, a wolf would pulverize him in no time. Besides, wolves were never alone. According to what he had read once, a wolf-pack could have as many as seven wolves. Three arrows would not be enough.


    And the howling was heard closer to him. He swallowed and removed the bow from the leather strap behind him. He put the lantern on his side and prepared a bronze arrow.


    The howling became a bark, and gasping. Kassius squeezed the eyes, ready to aim at the figure that would soon emerge.


    Steps drew closer, as paws rushing through the snow-covered bushes.


    What jumped out was not a wolf, but something similar.


    Kassius quickly put the arrow away.


    ¡°Boy! Is it really you?¡±


    He rushed forward and knelt, as Arcturus greeted him with his tail up. He was way skinnier than before,


    ¡°My boy, it¡¯s so good to see you!¡± Kassius petted its neck, as Arcturus barked like a puppy and licked his face.


    ¡°Are you hungry boy? Are you hungry?¡± Kassius removed the fish from his bag and tore the flesh with his hand. He didn¡¯t want Arcturus to get hurt with the bones.


    Arcturus quickly devoured the fish, and Kassius remained there. He hugged the dog again.


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    ¡°I will never lose you again. I¡¯m sorry for what I did. I¡¯m glad you survived. I promise I won¡¯t hurt you again.¡±


    He stood, and realized what he was getting into, and what he was getting his friend into.


    ¡°That being said, Arcturus, I¡¯m going to a very dangerous place.¡±


    Kassius kept walking forward, removing the bow and arrow again. Arcturus walked by his side, always loyal and present. The forest trail went up as he walked stealthily.


    The snowstorm soon faded and once again became sparse with little flakes that descended quietly, but the ground was sparkling white.


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep going,¡± he said to himself, as Arcturus was way braver than he. Well, he didn¡¯t know they were walking into the bear¡¯s den.


    The snow stopped descending as they got to the dense part of the forest. The bear¡¯s cave stood immovable, white snow covering the entrance and the ground.


    ¡°Slowly, my friend,¡± Kassius said, preparing his bow. He whispered at the dog. ¡°We¡¯re going to be very silent, I¡¯ll send you to the woods again if it¡¯s dangerous for you.¡±


    He expected hibernating bears to be deep sleepers. If that was the case, he would not have much to worry about, just sending Arcturus home.


    ¡°Heel,¡± he ordered, and Arcturus stood still under an evergreen. Kassius solemnly enter the cave, as the light of his lantern timidly shone over the dry floor. He tried to listen to the animal¡¯s breathing, but he did not detect it. As he walked on, he noticed something staining the floor. Maybe the blood of a prey dragged into the cave. He kept walking, and almost tripped on something as big as a sack of potatoes.


    ¡°What is this?¡± He drew the lantern closer, and then took a step back, startled.


    A bear cub lie there, its body cut open. Kassius illumined the area around, and found the other three bodies, and behind, a large splash of coagulated blood forming stripes, as if a wide body had been dragged through the floor.


    The hunters had been early.


    ¡°My gods...¡± Kassius put the arrow away and knelt over the dead cubs. He took a deep breath.


    But a shadow on the edge of the cave startled him. He took a stop back and quickly lightened the area. A small cub waited, pressed against the edge. Kassius noticed the despair in its eyes. Then, he heard it moan.


    ¡°Oh¡­ What have they done to your kin?¡± Kassius knelt. ¡°Come, little one.¡±


    The cub remained in the corner, still frightened, scarred in its mind.


    Kassius sighed.


    ¡°Take this.¡± He extracted the fish from his bag and offered it to the bear cub. The animal moved timidly but reached out and devoured it.


    ¡°I won¡¯t hurt you.¡±


    Kassius stood up, looking for the entrance. He realized piles of rock had been placed in areas of the cave. Against the rocky wall, he noticed a similar circle. He reached for his tools and created a lever to open the entrance. After applying a bit of strength, it gave way, revealing a wide and irregular tunnel, not like the one where they had taken refuge before, also constructed with an iron ladder next to the hatch.


    Kassius took a deep breath and commenced his descent. The cavern sank deeper than he had imagined, into the bowels of the earth. He noticed the walls, although mostly crushed and widened by some violent force, were constructed of regular bricks. Kassius doubted they were created by old Tharcians, as the style was different.


    The tunnel below had high walls, with a height that could surpass those of the Itruschian aqueducts of the day, and no less impressive. The time and effort put into them could indicate the existence of an entire city below ground. Was that the creation of Tharcians? Perhaps, if the legends were true, they had been made in the time of the giants.


    When he had reached the bottom, he stretched out his arm and lightened the ground beneath, discovering piles of human bones, most of them intact, some even encased in fine clothes of olden age. Some of them showed signs of having been burnt, and their bodies were contorted and preserved in expressions of pain.


    He kept walking, bewildered and frightened at what had gone on. The remains were still there, their leather clothes preserved through time. Then, he walked into a room where the walls seemed to have been struck by battering rams in all directions, what he found there startled him beyond belief.


    A body lay across the hallway. The phenomenal being that had occupied it had a stature comparable to that of a tree, extending for fifteen yards. The proportion was similar to that of a regular man, only the legs may have been longer. Its spine had strange claw-like spikes coming out of it, and the colour of the decayed bone -as well as the texture- reminded him of iron ore.


    Kassius knelt beside the figure, examining it, and astonished almost to death. The eye-sockets were surprisingly square, as well as the chin, but the skull was bulging and grotesque. He shivered at the thought. Giants were real. At least, they had been, and he was in front of one.


    But he had no time to waste, so he advanced through the mummies. Those were wearing priestly garb, and he felt he had seen those robes before, as well as the metal tools they held in their bony hands.


    Kassius paused for an instant and shut his eyes again. Where could that gem be? The stave sparkled in his mind, and he went on, toward a broken stone altar. A pile of small rocks from the wall had splattered about, covering it. Kassius stuck his hand inside and started removing the rocks.

 Chapter XXIX - Ancient Rites

    ¡°What do we have here?¡± Walerius said, taking a slow step forward. He unsheathed his sword and whirled it with his wrists. ¡°Who knew you would be the one that would bring so much trouble to us. You¡­¡± He pointed the sword at her. ¡°I should have taught you a lesson when I could.¡±


    ¡°You!¡± Alana said, blinking and swallowing the fear. She unsheathed the dragon blade, ready to give her best.


    ¡°You took me for a fool,¡± Walerius said with a frown, anger flashing in his eyes. ¡°Now I will make sure you get punished. You and your gang of harlots.¡±


    Walerius lunged at her with a diagonal cut. She parried. The man¡¯s strength was greater, and it made her step back and almost lose her balance. Then, he attacked again. Alana arched her back and managed to block, but the sword flew out of her hands.


    ¡°You¡¯re dead!¡± the soldier said, and Alana staggered back as she saw that glance again.


    ¡°Stop!¡± The wounded Felix lunged at Walerius. The soldier turned, surprised, and he instinctively drove the sword into Felix¡¯s chest. Felix opened his mouth, gasping for air, and his eyebrows twitched.


    ¡°You disgusting traitor,¡± Walerius frowned and spat in the floor.


    ¡°No!¡± Alana said, as Felix collapsed to the ground in a pool of blood.


    ¡°Do¡­ Domi...¡± he muttered, his eyes opening wide in a last spasm.


    ¡°You killed him! You... You will pay,¡± Alana said, but the sword was still many feet away.


    The sound of steps by her right side surprised her. She turned and saw Raxana and Kassara wielding butcher knives that reflected the snow¡¯s white glow. Kassara lunged forward and attacked the unsuspecting soldier, hitting his ribs. The man frantically waved his sword, but he was not quick enough to block both.


    He fought desperately. Alana remained still.


    When Walerius had been taken down, they took Walerius¡¯ coat and boots and rushed Alana back into the woods. She couldn¡¯t help but stare at both fallen bodies. Two soldiers. Maybe they would be interred with honour. Even Felix, as no one could know what his true allegiance had been.


    Alana turned to the forest and ran with all her might. Soon, they left behind the streets and sunk into the white forest, where no light could guide them but the pale snow.


    ¡°Sisters! Sisters!¡± Alana said, as the shivering women gathered around her. Alana shook her head when she saw their wounded bare feet. Especially Tor, who stood proud even after weeks in captivity.


    ¡°I am sorry to take you out into the cold,¡± Alana said. ¡°Now follow me. We have found a cavern where we can hide. It is hidden below the ground, and none can find it. You may rest there. There is but a little food, but with your help we will find more.¡±


    ¡°There is nothing to be sorry about,¡± Gitara muttered, as she covered her bare shoulders and shivered. ¡°Nothing is as precious as freedom.¡±


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s get moving!¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Whoever needs boots, please put this on,¡± Gitara said.


    Lashka, one of the old matrons who had been imprisoned, wore the boots, then they ran into the dark forest, until they reached the broken menhir.


    They descended one by one, starting with the oldest matron, and soon they gathered around a cozy fire, being welcomed with a modest feast of fish prepared by Irema, and warm water to heat their cold feet.


    ***


    ¡°They will send all their strength today, no doubt,¡± Alana said solemnly, as they sat cross legged around the fire. ¡°But...¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°Please have faith in Kassius. He will find it, no doubt. Excuse me one minute,¡± she said, standing up.


    She left the group and called Tor to the side. His expression had changed, he had grown too fast, and had gone through more pain that she had in her entire life.


    ¡°I am so glad you¡¯re back. Sorry, I¡¯m sorry to have left you like that...¡± she said.


    Tor put his hand on his own chest.


    Alana took a deep breath.


    ¡°I promise we will not let you suffer any more,¡± she whispered. ¡°I promise¡­ I can¡¯t believe what you have been through for my fault.¡±


    Tor shook his head.


    ¡°Please...¡± She sighed. Then swallowed. ¡°I need you to do me a favour. I wish I could let you rest until you feel well, but we really need this for today. We¡­ We are forging the sword again.¡±


    Tor raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes, the sword. I...¡± She reached for her bag and removed the blade and the blueprints Kassius had drawn. She had already fitted the wood on the iron, but it was still round and had no shape. ¡°We only have a few hours. I need you to carve a crucible. It does not need to be beautiful. I just need it to have an exact proportion and this stave.¡±


    Tor nodded and immediately got to work. Soon, the sword was ready, still coarse and dull; it looked empty with the black solar symbol and the two empty spaces prepared for the gems, but Alana prayed that the moment would come, when they would find them and access the power of the gods.


    Then, she heard a noise overhead, and she ran, her heart pounding fast.


    ¡°Kasha! Kasha!¡± she said, expectantly. ¡°Did you find it?¡±


    Kassius¡¯ expression was stiff, but he immediately lifted his hand, and she caught the glimpse of a green light, like an emerald fire.


    ¡°Amazing!¡± she yelled in excitement. It was real, she could feel its power. With that magical sword, justice would surely be served. Victory was near.


    ¡°And I¡¯ve found two friends. But I need you to come and help me with them, maybe they won¡¯t really like it down there.¡±


    The bear-cub came down tied to Kassius¡¯ back. After coming and going, he was exhausted. But there was no rest, at least that day. Arcturus refused to go inside the tunnel, instead, preferred to rest in an old weasel¡¯s nest outside.


    Tor finished the work, and although it needed to be polished, Kassius decided that it was time.


    ¡°No one else can come. Just Alana and me,¡± Kassius had declared, as he took his instruments and walked up with her into the forest. The sun was already coming out, melting the snow. Kassius guided Alana into a small clearing where an older menhir, or a group of them, rather, had once stood.


    ¡°Now¡­¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I need you to follow my instructions carefully.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, as her stomach turned inside her. She felt there was something wrong. It was what she needed to do, she thought, but the uneasiness of what would happen next overwhelmed her. What if the sword didn¡¯t work? No, impossible. All those coincidences had to lead somewhere. If not, that would be a cruel joke by the gods. It could not be.


    Or what if the power was too great for them to handle? What if they were not worthy?


    ¡°Ala¡­¡± he said, kneeling and carving a circle with the future Sword of Ares. ¡°This is the place. Now, take off your coat and bring that thing over.¡±


    ¡°Bring what?¡±


    ¡°The thing that¡¯s in the bag.¡±


    She reached for his leather bag and extracted an old bronze chalice.


    ¡°This? Where did this come from?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Now, keep it with you.¡±


    He swallowed and blindfolded himself. He stood up, feeling the lines he had carved in the snow, and sat at the other side of the circle.


    ¡°Come, and bring the chalice to me,¡± Kassius said, palms up.


    ¡°Alright,¡± she muttered.


    She reached for it.


    ¡°Take your boots off,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°But...¡±


    ¡°Do it.¡±


    She cleared her throat.


    ¡°Kassius, that is a bad idea, my feet may...¡±


    ¡°You must.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, reluctantly. She stepped on the snow and yelped at the biting cold on her soles. The few steps toward the circle seemed eternal. The sigil on the ground was startling. The circle had been guarded by runes she had never seen, and the image in the center, besides interlocked triangles, had circles going through orbits. She thought they represented the planets.


    ¡°Give me the chalice,¡± he said, receiving it in hand, and then placing it in the middle of the hexagram. ¡°Now your hand,¡± he commanded.


    ¡°Right or left?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    She extended her bare arm.


    ¡°Now cut your finger?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°I need your blood. Just a drop.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she muttered, extending her index. ¡°Kasha¡­ Are you seeing anything?¡±


    He shook his head, as if confused.


    At the same time, Alana had pierced the skin of her index finger, and a drop of blood was escaping. She obeyed Kassius¡¯ instructions and let it drip over the rim of the chalice.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    But Kassius kept shaking his head.


    ¡°Is there something wrong?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be,¡± he said. ¡°But...¡±


    ¡°Are you feeling something strange?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m seeing¡­¡± Kassius said, extending both hands forward, his expression changed into one of astonishment.


    ¡°What are you seeing?¡±


    He cleared his throat. ¡°Let¡¯s concentrate.¡±


    ¡°Do an X on your finger?¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°An X. Like, two interlocked lines.¡±


    ¡°Kassius, this hurts, by the way?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about that, Alana, but really think of this as something bigger than ourselves¡±


    ¡°Alright, anything for the cause,¡± she said, thinking of the power of the thunderbolt and how it would save her people, and then cut it again. The blood poured freely. Much more blood than she had thought. The cut was quite bad and painful. She would need to wrap it tightly later.


    ¡°Kassius, I¡¯m bleeding a lot.¡±


    ¡°Lay down the sword over the chalice.¡±


    She quietly obeyed. Kassius then held the gem up and drew it closer to the blade.


    ¡°Guide my hand and help me place it in.¡±


    Alana grabbed Kassius¡¯ cold fingers and did as he said. The gem clanked inside, thanks to Tor¡¯s efficient carpentry skills.


    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± he said, proceeding to clear his throat. Then, he recited the hymn:


    As ypsothu¨®n kai p¨¢li oi gioi tou ¨¢ri


    af¨ªste tous pa iperischysoun enanti¨®n echthrou tous.


    Ou gigantas tis geas.


    Etsi, amfisvito to aionio kak¨®.


    Immediately, a tremor shook the earth and Alana got up, startled. The earthquake stopped immediately, but a noise was heard in the distance, like rocks crumbling down from a mountain.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± she asked.


    Kassius removed his blindfold and looked around with curious green eyes.


    ¡°Gods, I hope it worked.¡± He stared at the sword below him.


    ¡°I guess it did. Would you like to try it?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a swordsman. You are the sword expert here,¡± Kassius winked one of his wide eyes.


    Alana cleared her throat and stared at the enchanted blade. Although the metal was rough and unpolished, even a laughingstock for anyone who had seen a sword before, she felt proud of it. And now, excitement crawled through her spine. She imagined the immense power of the stars and prayed deeply for it to be effective against the enemy.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t aim it at me.¡± Kassius staggered to his feet and stepped away from the circle.


    Alana solemnly grabbed the handle tightly with both hands and lifted it above her head. She took a deep breath that whistled through her runny nose.


    ¡°By the power of Ares!¡± she called. ¡°I call on the Thunderbolt of Venus.¡±


    Alana shut her eyes, expecting lightning to come out of the sword, but nothing happened. She looked around, checking if at least the ravens had noticed the magical power that had made the earth shake.


    ¡°Try calling Venus¡¯ name,¡± Kassius suggested, scratching his head.


    ¡°Venus,¡± Alana yelled. ¡°Grant me the power, oh Mother of the Stars!¡±


    Not even the wind answered her pleas.


    Kassius¡¯ eyes drifted from side to side.


    ¡°What was that spell all about,¡± Alana asked, shrugging and letting out a shiver.


    ¡°Something, something, I challenge the eternal evil. It doesn¡¯t matter, say what you were saying, but do it in the ancient tongue. Repeat after me:¡±


    Agrimpasa, d¨®se mou to keravn¨® sou.


    Alana repeated the formula, but nothing happened. Her shoulders were starting to ache.


    ¡°Am I not saying it right?¡± Alana asked with an arched eyebrow, lowering the sword.


    ¡°What in the world?¡± Kassius shook his head and jumped around the circle, running to check the sword, gently taking it from Alana¡¯s hands. ¡°What did we do wrong¡­ I mean¡­ Maybe we didn¡¯t channel the power right¡­ I mean, did you feel the ground shake? It was working.¡± He pressed the jewel into the handle, making sure it was fitted right.


    ¡°No idea.¡± She cleared her throat and dropped to her knees. ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± she said, as she dried her toes with her coat and proceeded to put the boots on.


    She stood up, putting on the cloak, and she turned around toward the path. Then, she stepped back, as her heart turned around like a pancake and her mouth dropped.


    Six horsemen stood before her. The one in front was riding a white stallion, his hair was brown, and he wore an eyepatch.


    ¡°Well, well, well, well, well,¡± the man with one eye said. ¡°What do we have here?¡±


    ¡°I...¡±


    ¡°You smell like a scoundrel,¡± he said, sniffing the air.


    Alana frowned and stood in a fighting stance.


    ¡°What are you holding?¡± The man mocked her. ¡°Is that a spatula? Do you call that a sword?¡±


    ¡°You!¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s you who ordered the death of so many. You are¡­ You will see.¡±


    ¡°What will I see? I will see many interesting things, it seems. What do you say, boys? Hey! I know that guy. That¡¯s the old Iberian slave. I wonder what¡¯s he doing here. Hey, don¡¯t get away, you little rabbit.¡± The governor turned around and winked at one of the soldiers. The man had long blonde hair and a full beard. He was a barbarian, not an Itruschian. He removed an arrow, the tip was shining bronze, and held it, pulling the arrow and the string, aiming at Kassius¡¯ heart.


    Alana turned quickly, yelling in despair.


    ¡°Stop!¡±


    Larius giggled.


    ¡°Before that little rabbit gets out, come on J¨¹rgn, shoot that little rabbit.¡±


    ¡°No! No!¡± Alana¡¯s sword gripping hand shook.


    The barbarian shot, and the arrow pierced Kassius in the chest. He gasped and fell back, as another arrow shot into his body.


    The governor chuckled and licked his fingers.


    ¡°Well done, J¨¹rgn. You people can go hunt some more. The rest of the pack must not be very far. Let me have some good times with torchead, will ya?¡±


    The hunters nodded and dispersed.


    ¡°What do we have here...¡± he said, dismounting.


    ¡°I,¡± she proudly said. ¡°And I will be the last thing you see.¡± She held the sword in both hands and quickly pointed the blade at him, visualizing a green thunderbolt coming out of it.


    But nothing happened.


    She prayed in silence, but no magic came out.


    She sighed and solemnly placed the sword on the ground, then she unsheathed the dragon blade that hung behind her cloak. On her left, she held the black Parzhian dagger.


    ¡°I am ready,¡± she said with a frown.


    Larius laughed and kept walking with his head up, unconcerned.


    ¡°Want to play a bit? I was looking for a blonde, but¡­ Maybe I¡¯m not good at judging hair colour. Are you the one I¡¯m looking for?¡±


    Alana didn¡¯t answer. She frowned and lunged at him with both blades.


    Larius parried both hands easily and kicked her in the shin, making her fall on her elbow and feeling the biting snow on her arm. Alana got up, preparing to fight back. She let out a war cry that only made Larius laugh more. She tried to smite him with two alternating blows, but he blocked easily and sent her dragon blade flying. As usual, her grip was not strong enough.


    She kept attacking with the black dagger, but Larius was playing around, blocking every blow. He yawned as he did, stepping back and giving Alana a chance to attack.


    But Alana smiled as something jumped behind him. Larius turned in time, as the old Arcturus jumped him and bit him in the leg.


    ¡°Miserable beast!¡± Larius yelled.


    He waved his blade at the dog and blood sprinkled about. Arcturus moaned like a lost puppy, and Alana opened her eyes in terror as the dog was cast out with the blow.


    ¡°You damn animal. You ruined my boots.¡± Larius strode furiously, smiting the dog again. And again.


    Alana swallowed, then ran toward Larius with the knife in hand. The man was quick to catch her left hand. He squeezed it, forcing her to open it and drop the dagger. He pulled her closer, without looking at her, and struck his blade at Arcturus¡¯s neck again.


    She could not believe it. The poor dog lay agonizing on the side, and Larius turned and pushed her back into the woods. Soon, she had her back against a tree.


    ¡°You did put up a fight. Well, you¡¯ve been doing it for a while, I¡¯ll give you that,¡± he said.


    Alana spat on his face.


    ¡°You bitch,¡± he said, licking the saliva that had splattered on his cheeks. Then, he held his sword forward, grabbed Alana¡¯s hair up and stuck the blade in the trunk, directly above her. He removed it, then cut her hair with a slash.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have fun. And¡­ Yes¡­ Bit by bit. I¡¯ll cut you little by little, so you remember. So you feel and don¡¯t forget.¡±


    Alana was paralysed. She put down her hands. Now she was disarmed, her back against a tree and at the mercy of the man who had destroyed her people. Larius¡¯ moves were superior and faster than anything she could try.


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t have any more toys in there. You know what happens when you misbehave,¡± he spat.


    But there was something else she could try.


    ¡°No, no,¡± she said, calmly. ¡°I will hit you in the face. I can break your teeth. I could even knock you out with one slap.¡±


    Larius raised an eyebrow and then laughed at the suggestion, treating it like the innocent threat of a young girl.


    She reached for her pocket, she felt cold iron and rust. But that was no sword, it was something small, almost insignificant.


    ¡°Oh, now that you asked. Come on, little one, hit me. Give me your best, I¡¯ll enjoy it, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Larius shut his only eye and leaned forward, presenting his cheek as if asking for a caress and at the same time, grasping her hair tight, not letting her go.


    Alana slid her hand back, then pushed the old rusty nail into the governor¡¯s eye.


    He let go, his face contorted, he opened his mouth in agony and let out a heart wrenching shriek. The ravens flew away, shaking the branches overhead. He stumbled back, touching his face, but remained standing.


    ¡°My eye, my eye, not my eye!¡± His voice had morphed into what Hades must sound like.


    Alana had three choices.


    The dragon blade, the black Parzhian Dagger, or the Sword of Ares.


    For Father, she thought.


    She grabbed the dragon blade and quickly thrust it in his abdomen. She stabbed him again, and he lost the strength of his limbs and fell on his back. As he was still holding onto his face, shaking his arms and legs in dolorous spasms, Alana smote his head. The cries faded, as his neck split opened. A pool of blood stained the white snow. The colour of Ares, her Father.


    She grabbed him by the hair, struck again, and severed his head. She dragged it by the hair and tied the brown locks to a low branch. It hung deformed, with the blood still descending from the grotesque nail, quickly freezing. That would be a warning to the ones who murdered the innocent and tried to take away their freedoms.


    As she regained her senses, she said her husband¡¯s name and ran to his bloodied body. He breathed still and opened his eyes softly and sweetly.


    He muttered her name, but the sound did not come out.


    ¡°Kassius, my love,¡± she said, looking at both the arrows.


    ¡°You¡­¡± he struggled to speak. ¡°You can¡­¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± she said, reaching for his hand and grasping it tightly. It was cold.


    ¡°Take them out!¡± he said.


    ¡°Me?¡± She looked at the arrows that stuck out from his body like flowery ornaments.


    ¡°Do it! Please,¡± he pleaded. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if I scream.¡±


    She nodded, then proceeded to tear them. He yelled and then tilted his head back in silence.


    ¡°Are you okay, Kasha? Kasha¡­ Don¡¯t leave me, please.¡± She reached for his hand again.


    ¡°I¡­ I love you, Alana,¡± he said, with droplets forming on the rims of his eyes.


    ¡°Me too,¡± she said, staring into his deep pupils. His face was paler than ever, and shadows took shape under his eyes, but he was hers, and she belonged only to him.


    ¡°Ala¡­ Please...¡± Kassius stuttered.


    ¡°What, Kasha? What?¡±


    ¡°Now¡­ You can give me a real kiss. It¡¯s all done.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, as her eyes watered. She reached forth and kissed his dry lips, as if she were devouring a loaf of bread after a famine. Like a thirsty traveller drinking from a desert well. Their mouths slowly opened.


    Alana felt as if the whole world pulsated around her. It vibrated, like an earthquake.


    But the earth was also shaking.


    And yet, she did not stop. Their tongues touched softly.


    He softly grabbed her shoulders and tilted her back.


    ¡°Ala,¡± he said, as a thread of saliva drifted from their mouths. He looked behind her, and she followed his eyes.


    The earth was indeed shaking, as well as the trees. The ravens flew away as if possessed.


    ¡°The sword!¡± He pointed with his trembling fingers. She looked back. The emerald of Venus shone like a small moon of green light.


    ¡°What?¡± she said, standing up. ¡°What is going on?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡± He said. ¡°Please help¡­ I¡¯m bleeding. Stop the bleeding¡­ And kiss me again.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± she said, narrowing her eyes.


    Alana bandaged him with Larius¡¯ cape, then helped him up and walked with him toward the clearing. The hunters could be anywhere. They had to be careful.


    But she saw figures through the white foliage, all bathed in red.


    ¡°Do you want to take a closer look?¡± he asked. ¡°To see if it¡¯s safe?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, and quietly left Kassius sitting against a tree. Then, she peered through the leaves, and dropped the blade in amazement.


    ¡°Kasha¡­¡± she stuttered. ¡°They¡¯re all dead.¡±


    ¡°How dead? Do you...¡± He smiled. ¡°Do you think the girls got them?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so¡­ Unless, the girls decided to tear them limb from limb and take the time to hang their legs from the trees. And¡­ Stain the trees with blood.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°And¡­ Well, it¡¯s as if someone had a big spoon, he cut and stirred. And¡­ Oh¡­¡±


    ¡°What is it, Alana?¡±


    ¡°K-k-kasha¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    The footprints before her sunk deeper than a yard.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if you want to see this. But¡­ Remember the book?¡±


    ¡°What about the book?¡±


    ¡°Remember the part about the giants?¡±

 Book II - Iron and Flame - Chapter I - The Tower

    A freezing wind blew through the trees, screeching like a phantom. Askar shielded his nose and mouth behind the thick layer of fox fur. The wind pierced to the bones, through his tunic, through his segmented armour. He kept walking, hiding the tremors of his legs.


    The hills and blossoming oaks and birches covered their view, partly hiding the wall and the watchtower overhead.


    ¡°This better be good,¡± Centurion Ascylkas muttered, following Askar, his sword clanking against his armour as he walked.


    They descended from a boulder, crossed the last leg of flowered trees, and reached the border wall of stone and wood. It extended for miles, left and right dividing the Imperial Territories from the vast barbarian lands up north.


    ¡°There, sir,¡± Askar said, stepping out of the last patch of bushes and trees. He did not need to point at the thing in question. The centurion opened his eyes wide, and tensed his lips. The wall stretched up, five meters from the ground, and in one entire segment, there was a gap as wide as a cavalry tower, as if a tornado had decided to push its way across the wall.


    ¡°Who did this?¡± Ascylkas walked toward the gap and leaned his hand on the rocky wall, on the broken logs, splintered as if broken by hand, and the damaged bricks at its base, as if crushed by a battering ram. He looked through.


    ¡°What do you mean, Centurion?¡± Askar muttered. ¡°It wasn¡¯t done. I mean . . .¡±


    Ascylkas turned and glared, his brow furrowed and teeth clenched. His eyelashes twitched, a usual sign of anger, which he routinely let out on his soldiers.


    ¡°Whosoever did this is going to get punished,¡± the centurion pointed a finger at him. ¡°I do not know what the hell these boys are thinking. Tell me. Elkas saw it first, he must know. Or did he do it? Tell me, Askar, and the punishment will be lesser.¡±


    Askar took a deep breath.


    ¡°With all due respect, Centurion, Elkas only reported what he saw.¡±


    ¡°That damned story again? Or are you hiding something too, you skunk? Do you think these stories of giants scare me? Do you think I¡¯m a cowardly rascal like all of you maggots.¡±


    ¡°No, sir,¡± Askar said, then swallowed. The centurion had said the word that described it. Askar did not dare even think it. He felt the blood draining away from his face, fearing that the centurion mentioning the word would draw them to him. Then, Askar lowered his voice. ¡°He just reported what he saw.¡±


    ¡°What he saw?¡± The centurion¡¯s eyes were red with anger, he put his finger on Askar¡¯s chest and pushed him lightly. ¡°These superstitions are getting out of hand, and they shall be dealt with accordingly. If whosoever is responsible for this does not step out and clarify this, I¡¯m going to punish the entire company. And the company under Julius¡¯ command as well. So you better tell me. Spit it out, soldier.¡±


    Askar clenched his teeth. His eyes remained fixed on his superior, his face tense. He trusted Elkas. Elkas himself had run back to camp and demanded for an expedition company to be formed. Even Elkas, the brave decurion, the best of his troop, had become pale and tremulous, and yet, he had not shied away from searching for the beast. The villagers all said the same thing. But Askar dared not even think the word, as it was believed it could draw them to the place.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°My centurion, I assure you . . .¡±


    ¡°Do you think these tricks will convert me to your foolish religion? I have received reports from the South. I know about it, believe me. But you won¡¯t fool me.¡± He pointed at the gap. ¡°This was made with the legion¡¯s battering ram. Careless use of the army¡¯s resources for a foolish trick.¡±


    ¡°Sir, no. It wasn¡¯t . . . No!¡±


    But the centurion was not going to listen to his words. The man was boiling in anger, and yet, for that blind anger, the legion would suffer. Words would not make him understand.


    He knew what would.


    Askar cleared his throat.


    ¡°Sir, that is not all.¡±


    ¡°Do not interrupt me! You will get punished too, soldier Askar. This is not acceptable.¡±


    Askar took a deep breath. ¡°May I? This is not all that we needed to report.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± The centurion yelled.


    ¡°The hole in the garrison wall is not the only thing Elkas saw,¡± he said.


    ¡°The hole in the . . . Soldier, this is enough.¡±


    ¡°Centurion, please,¡± Arkas pleaded. ¡°If I may, I just need you to take a closer look.¡±


    ¡°I had enough of this,¡± the centurion snorted, clenching his teeth in anger. ¡°No, I will not waste any more time.¡±


    ¡°Sir, just for you to take a look.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The veins in the centurion¡¯s neck popped. ¡°I told you I won¡¯t waste any more time with you.¡±


    ¡°Just take a look.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re planning,¡± the centurion said and stepped out of the hole. Askar followed, breathing deeply. Then, he pointed at the ground, and the deep, piercing footprints, as if a rock had been dragged along the grass, peeling the earth, shaping it like a claw and sinking more than two feet below.


    ¡°Are you being serious, soldier?¡± the centurion pouted.


    ¡°Yes, sir, please, let us gather a few soldiers and come . . .¡±


    And then, Askar noticed something that had not been there earlier. He fixed his eyes on the trees that grew a few steps from there, and he noticed a grey boulder. Its shape was not like anything he had seen before. It looked like a mass of rocks, bound together by some invisible glue, and strangely symmetrical. It was vaguely shaped like an hourglass. An even number of rocks in the shape of triangular spikes expanded from its centre. Its base was angular. It looked vaguely human.


    He felt as if a stone had settled on his stomach, his mind whirled, threatening to make him faint.


    ¡°What are you looking at, soldier?¡± The centurion spewed.


    ¡°Th-th-that . . .¡±


    ¡°What? That? That¡¯s only a rock.¡±


    ¡°C-centurion. That was not there during sunrise.¡±


    ¡°What are you saying?¡± The centurion strode through the short grass, reached the object and drew his short gladius. ¡°It is just a rock,¡± he yelled.


    ¡°Centurion, it was not there before.¡±


    The centurion spat on the floor and poked the object with his sword. Askar shut his eyes for an instant, his heart pounding. It sounded just like iron hitting stone, and as such, the object was not scratched.


    ¡°You see? It¡¯s nothing but a rock,¡± the centurion said.


    Askar took a deep breath. He had to calm down.


    His eyes opened wide.


    The centurion remained still. Time seemed to dilate.


    The boulder twisted like a piece of hot iron. It seemed to split in three, as if arms grew out of its centre. It rose in the sky and towered above them, higher than the wall¡ªhigher than the trees¡ªnext to the centurion. Its legs stretched for about seven feet off the ground, with spikes protruding from its knees. Its abdomen was as thin as the legs, only its chest was as wide as a chariot, seemingly carved in grey stone. The figure had a massive skull, its upper part was sloped, its chin was long and disproportionate. Long teeth, shaped like daggers stuck out of its mouth, and its eyes were like burning coal.


    ¡°What are you looking at?¡± the centurion asked.


    Askar¡¯s tongue was paralysed.


    The centurion turned as the gargantuan hand reached down and grabbed him around the torso, like a man grasping a sword handle. In a second, a splash of warm blood splattered on Askar¡¯s face. He blinked, and saw his leader turned into a pulp of red and purple, squeezing out the blood like juice. The iron of his segmented armour had been squeezed like a can.


    Askar¡¯s heart shot up and banged like a drum of war. He turned around and dashed through the gap in the wall, his heart rate matched his steps, and he screamed out his lungs.

 Chapter II - Borderlands

    After the death of Governor Larius, his successor, Florianus, decided to burn the forest where Alana and the Clan of the Brown Bear hid. Red flames, furious as lions, licked the ancient trees, torturing them slowly before turning them to ash. The flames lit up the air, burning beasts and plants alike. They raged for days, like sacred temple fires.


    But the Clan of the Brown Bear had a hideout. They sank into secret caverns deserted ages ago, and they endured through persecution and fear. On a cold, moonless night, in the dead of winter, they emerged from their refuge and walked through burnt trunks and dead bushes, under falling snow, over a vast white desert and a frozen river.


    A charred forest and dark catacombs could never be called home. They only had swords, a few arrows, and spears made of stone and wood as they crossed into the eastern forest, heading east. Alana grew stronger. She polished the Sword of Ares, a symbol of her struggle. She strengthened her arms and her skills, and they journeyed on with two young boys, ten women, and a bear cub.


    One day, at the start of spring, they reached the border.


    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± Alana said, crouching through the tall grass of the steppe, with the moon and stars as guiding lights. The dragon blade hung from her belt, and Kassius crouched by her side, the Sword of Ares wrapped in leather straps, bound to his back, and a small bow in his hand. He had cut his wild hair short, but a sober beard was growing on his young face. Kassara, a former general back in the steppe days, stood by with a knife in her hand. Her hair was lush and blacker than the night, her eyes almond-shaped and decisive. She was leading the attack, and a segmented armor taken from an enemy soldier shielded her body.


    ¡°Kassara...¡± Alana lowered her voice, narrowing her eyes, looking above the wooden tower in front of them. She could see something shiny under the wooden roof. It was the watchman¡¯s helmet. A wide wooden wall extended to the sides, illuminated by two torches close to the watchtower. ¡°Can you see them?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I see one of them,¡± Kassara said in a harsh whisper. ¡°Now, you two, listen to me very carefully. Do as I say or we may get in trouble.¡±


    Alana nodded. She noticed Kassius rolling his eyes. His face, as usual, was marked with red ink and magical staves.


    ¡°No matter how many soldiers there are on this post, do what I say and save your butt,¡± Kassara muttered. Her voice had something motherly about it.


    Alana bit her tongue. She wanted to trust in Kassara¡¯s words, but even after months of training, she did not feel confident. Kassara¡¯s plan was simple: avoid frontal engagement, lurk in the shadows like a hunting mountain lion, and if there was someone who knew about fighting and strategy, it was Kassara.They advanced, almost crawling through the tall grass. Kassara, Alana, Kassius, and two women who had fought in the war stayed close. Their names were Raxana and Aliya, and they held stone spears in their hands, keeping their heads up and looking proud and confident, although they still wore the ragged clothes from when they had escaped their imprisonment.


    The man on the tower bobbed his head, casually peeking around. He leaned forward and his eyes wandered through the field. His helmet shone dully, reflecting the waxing moon. The group remained silent, and Alana instinctively lowered her gaze until the man turned to observe the opposite side of the field.


    Kassara looked at Kassius.


    ¡°We only have one shot, magic man.¡± Kassara extended her hand toward him. ¡°Now let the grown-up do the job.¡±


    Kassius took a deep breath and passed her the bow and arrow with a frustrated sigh.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Kassara winked at him. ¡°Alright,¡± she said. Then she crawled forward and rested on one knee. With one eye shut, she nocked the arrow. ¡°This is how you do it, boy,¡± she muttered.


    Kassius faked a smile.


    Kassara let go, and the arrow flew with a thud, causing the soldier¡¯s head to collapse against the tower fence.


    ¡°Where did you hit him?¡± Alana asked in a whisper.


    ¡°Neck,¡± Kassara responded. ¡°Quick, let¡¯s go,¡± she commanded, raising her hand. They walked slowly through the swaying grass. The ones who were not fighting¡ªthe vanguard, which included Irema, Tor, Gitara with her baby, and a few others¡ªremained about fifty yards behind.


    ¡°I¡¯m going first,¡± Kassara announced. ¡°Raxana, you follow me.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Raxana said, her fiery-red hair blending into the flames that danced along the wall. Like Kassara, Raxana was in her late forties, her deep green eyes beginning to show signs of aging. Alana was grateful to have such great veterans to look up to and help them fight. They were invaluable, and without them, none of them would have survived the winter.


    Kassara stepped with the sides of her boots and walked to the wooden stairs, bow and arrow in hand. They creaked lightly, and when she reached the top, she quickly looked around. Raxana followed closely. When she was halfway up the stairs, Kassara raised her hand and stared down at Raxana, indicating for her to stop.


    Alana watched from below as Kassara shot two arrows, one after the other, as fast as a rabbit¡¯s leap. Then, Kassara ordered the group to continue.


    Suddenly, a deep sound buzzed in their ears.


    Someone had blown an alarm horn. Alana raised her head and looked from side to side¡ªto the field where Tor and the other ladies waited, crouched and hidden in the grass, and forward, where Kassara and Raxana remained calm halfway up the stairs.


    It was time to shine.


    Alana drew her Dragon Blade and swallowed. Her stomach churned with fear.


    ¡°Quick, we have the high ground!¡± Kassara shouted at them. Alana, Kassius, and the third veteran, Aliya, climbed hastily up the creaky stairs.


    When they reached the top, Alana saw Kassara shoot two more soldiers who approached from the stairs on the other side of the wall, wielding long spears and shields. Alana felt her heart rate increase, pulsating through her veins. She had fought against great warriors and had managed to survive using only trickery and chance, but engaging in battle, even against a small group, was something different. Kassius looked even more distraught; he nervously fidgeted with the hilt of his knife. He always refused to train with swords, and now, with Kassara having taken his bow, he surely felt useless.


    Alana rushed up the opposite side of the stairs. She held onto her dragon blade and waited attentively. For an instant, she glanced at Kassius. His eyes were not focused on the scene in front of him; they were locked down on the floor.


    ¡°Kasha, is something wrong?¡± she asked.


    He shook his head.


    Alana swallowed, grasping the blade with both hands.


    ¡°They¡¯re coming up!¡± Kassara said, looking back at them. ¡°I¡¯m running out of arrows. Let¡¯s stay together and not lose any of our warriors, understood?¡±


    Kassius blinked, as if waking up from a trance.


    ¡°How many are there?¡± Kassius asked shyly.


    Raxana took a quick peek at the field.


    ¡°More than a dozen,¡± she answered.


    ¡°Get ready!¡± Kassara said, checking the shiny gladius sword she had stolen from the dead soldier, Kassius¡¯ bow now bound to her back.


    Alana shut her eyes. Kassara had not fought in years, and Alana hoped she could hold her ground against the soldiers. The enemy formed beneath them, assembling with their large square shields and their spears with iron tips. They started climbing, one by one.


    Kassara closed in, running down the stairs, dodging their spears like an acrobat. She reached one of the soldiers halfway up the stairs and thrust the blade into his side, between the folds of his segmented armor. The man dropped his spear, and she held him by the neck, using him as a shield.


    Then, Kassara pushed his body, and two soldiers stumbled and fell to the ground.


    Raxana rushed behind Kassara, grabbing the spear that had belonged to another soldier, then jumped to the ground below. She rolled upon contact with the trimmed grass, waved her lance, and struck a soldier in the neck. Another two attacked her at once, thrusting their spears viciously. She twisted her body to dodge, using the handle of her spear to smack one of them in the face. His nose broke, bathing his face in blood.


    Two soldiers ran up the stairs, with their spears ready. Alana and Kassius looked at each other. They had practiced against long sticks, but even Alana was terrified. Aliya, the other veteran, stood next to them, holding a newfound gladius in hand. Both enemy soldiers advanced with shields protecting their faces and their spears forward. ¡°What do we do?¡± Alana asked, gasping and fidgeting with the blade. Kassius, at her side, was as pale as a piece of paper.


    ¡°Let¡¯s wait until they come up,¡± Aliya whispered. ¡°And then I¡¯ll close in.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Alana said, and Kassius nodded.


    Aliya did not wait and went in for the fight. The soldiers charged against her, and she moved to the middle. The spears brushed past her. She managed to hurt one of them but was attacked by the second one, who pushed her back up the tower, out of the stairs.


    He made Aliya retreat to the corner while she held the sword and avoided the lancer¡¯s thrusts.


    Another pair of soldiers started climbing the stairs. Alana and Kassius had no choice but to fight and defend their position. The soldiers jumped up, quickly reaching the top of the tower.


    Alana tried to close in with her blade, feeling a strange burst of energy rage through her, attacking the enemy¡¯s side. The soldier¡¯s spear shifted, now pointing toward her as quickly as a jumping lion. Her instincts reacted, and she blocked the thrust with her blade. She instinctively stepped forward. She had closed in. She pulled the blade away and waved it across, her grasp firm and unflinching. She felt it connect with something soft, then against the metal of the soldier¡¯s helmet.


    A long red wound crossed the soldier¡¯s face, his nose sliced, and his face expressionless, as if the heat of battle had muted his senses.


    From the corner of her eye, Alana saw Kassius closing onto another soldier, whose sword had fallen on the floor. However, Kassius went for his enemy¡¯s wrists and landed a headbutt on the nose.


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    In an instant, Aliya cut that same soldier¡¯s head, and the blood splashed, staining Kassius¡¯ forehead. Blood pumped from the dead man¡¯s neck, and his body collapsed and clanked on the wooden floor.


    An enemy spear advanced, looking for Alana¡¯s unprotected flesh. She jumped back, grasping the dragon blade and holding it forward in defense.


    The soldier closed in. She waved her sword to block, but the shiny spear tip circled around her. Now she was vulnerable. The spear drew closer, and she tried to step back and felt the corner of the tower against her back.


    Suddenly, another spear pierced the soldier¡¯s neck from behind. He opened his mouth wide as blood dropped from his neck.


    Alana sighed as the lifeless body fell forward. Aliya stood behind it with the bloodied spear. She winked an eye at her.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Alana muttered.


    Aliya ignored her. Instead, she stared at the feet of the tower, where Kassara and Raxana fought, and she ran down the tower.


    There were definitely more than half a dozen soldiers still fighting beneath.¡±Let¡¯s go!¡± Alana said, putting her fear away and grasping Kassius¡¯ hand. He nodded, and both walked down the stairs. Alana counted; now there were eight enemy soldiers against the two women below. The Gadalian warriors stuck close to each other, forming a circle and attacking constantly to prevent the enemy from forming a phalanx formation.


    Kassius held an Itruschian spear. As soon as their steps echoed on the wooden stairs, three soldiers turned toward them and looked at them like hunters stalking easy prey.


    The soldiers used the phalanx technique. Both soldiers advanced with their shoulders together, spears pointed forward in their right hands and shields on their left.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it!¡± Kassius whispered, stopping halfway down the stairs.


    ¡°What?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Jump out!¡± Kassius screamed. Alana instinctively obeyed as the soldiers marched undeterred, stepping toward the tower. Alana and Kassius were already on the ground. Alana waved her sword at the soldiers¡¯ distracted side. She held the dragon blade in both hands and struck one of them.


    Sword and armor clanked. She clenched her teeth in frustration; she had not dealt any damage. The soldier retracted his spear and jumped back into the grass. Alana moved to his right, away from his shield, and swung her sword towards his neck. The soldier had lifted his spear-wielding hand and got cut in the arm, but he did not flinch. Alana retracted the sword and attempted another attack at his hip, which the soldier blocked. The soldier stepped back, cutting the distance, and attacked with a frontal spear thrust. Alana dodged but felt the iron tip brushing against her clothes.


    Alana sighed. She had practiced that move countless times that winter. She knew the soldier wouldn¡¯t attempt anything new, as he was used to fighting in phalanx formations and nothing else.


    The soldier attacked again, and she blocked, striding forward and touching the rim of the spear with her blade. When she was close enough, she twisted her hips and hit the soldier¡¯s neck. The blow opened up his skin and flesh, piercing halfway through. A stream of blood poured like a fountain, and the body collapsed on the grass.


    Alana sighed in relief and leaned on her sword. It was the first time she had won a battle in frontal combat, without resorting to trickery, and her enemy¡¯s blood stained the short grass. Now, she could say she was a warrior. And yet, although she was satisfied with her skills, there was no joy in ending a life.


    She looked around. Kassius was panting on the side; the soldier he had fought was also dead. Aliya stood next to him, and Raxana was kneeling on the ground next to Kassara. Kassara was down, with a faint stream of dark fluid staining her chest, and her black hair spread over the grass like a black sea.


    Alana gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth, and ran toward Kassara.


    ¡°Kassara?¡± she said, kneeling by her side.


    Kassara clenched her teeth as Alana noticed blood pouring from her collarbone, staining the white cloth beneath and her segmented breastplate.


    ¡°It¡¯s a spear wound,¡± Raxana said, leaning over to examine the wound.


    ¡°Will she be alright?¡± Alana asked, scanning Kassara¡¯s body. Kassara pressed her own wound with her blood-stained hands.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to stop the bleeding,¡± Kassius said, standing close to them. He then proceeded to take off his hemp shirt, revealing his naked, bony, and toned torso.


    ¡°Raxana . . .¡± Kassara said, clenching her teeth. ¡°Go scout the area; they will take care of me.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Commander,¡± Raxana answered almost instinctively.


    ¡°Kassara, we cannot do without you,¡± Alana said. She looked into Kassara¡¯s dark eyes. Kassara had taught her everything she knew about fencing and strategy. Although the wound did not look terrible, she had heard of creeping infections entering through shallow cuts.


    ¡°Alana . . .¡± Kassara called her, using the endearing term that people from her hometown used for children. She stretched out her hand and grabbed Alana¡¯s.


    ¡°Kassara,¡± Alana said. ¡°Hold on, you¡¯re wounded, but it doesn¡¯t look so bad.¡±


    ¡°Alana, tell her to sit; I¡¯ve got to wrap this around her,¡± Kassius said, his green eyes serious under his abundant eyebrows.


    ¡°Big magic man,¡± Kassara said, smiling through the pain and looking at Kassius.


    ¡°Please, madam,¡± he said. ¡°You know how serious this wound can be. We¡¯ve got to stop it and let you rest.¡±


    Kassara nodded and signaled for Alana and Aliya to lift up her body. Kassara sat, leaning her head forward. Alana untied her breastplate, and it fell forward, revealing her worn-out tunic with visible intricate designs, stained with dust and wear on the back. Kassara sighed in relief. The blood from her collarbone continued to flow down and fill her dress. Kassius wrapped his shirt tightly beneath her armpits, and the cloth immediately became soaked with blood.


    ¡°Hold on, Kassara. You will be fine,¡± Alana said.


    Kassius tied the edges of his tunic into a knot.


    ¡°There are some herbs in this time of year that can help soothe the pain. We¡¯ll look for them in the morning,¡± he said. ¡°At least there are no vital organs there; she will be fine.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m finally going to join my husband Antanos in the Elysian Fields,¡± Kassara muttered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. ¡°And my boy, Hirmas, after all this time. After the hell we¡¯ve been through.¡±


    ¡°Stop saying that, Kassara. You¡¯re not going anywhere. Don¡¯t even say it,¡± Alana said, grasping her hand tightly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, Alana,¡± Kassara moaned.


    ¡°We need you, Kassara. Don¡¯t go,¡± she insisted.


    ¡°You won¡¯t know what to do when I¡¯m gone,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry; follow Raxana.¡±


    ¡°What are you saying? I need you by my side. We all do. Yes, we would die without you. Besides, we¡¯re about to see the great endless steppe. You¡¯ve been amazing tonight.¡±Alana couldn¡¯t see her die. Why did everybody have to leave, everybody she knew?


    Kassara took a deep breath.


    ¡°We better let her rest,¡± Kassius said. ¡°I will write some healing sigils on her forehead. You¡¯re fine with that, aren¡¯t you, madam?¡±


    Kassara nodded, winking an eye.


    ¡°Do what you can,¡± Alana said, blinking, and hoping that maybe, the sigils would work.


    Suddenly, Alana heard the noise of steps on the other side and raised her head, alarmed. Two men marched towards them, their bodies covered in simple togas, their hair short, in Itruschian style, and their hands up in surrender. Their legs trembled in fear. Raxana was holding her spear up and walked behind them.


    ¡°These two were the slaves that worked for the soldiers,¡± she declared. ¡°I found them in the kitchen.¡±


    The men kept their heads down and exchanged fearful glances.


    ¡°Kitchen,¡± Alana said, noticing Kassius and Aliya had reacted the same way to that single word. Even Kassara¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Amazing!¡±


    ¡°I will tell the others,¡± Aliya said, a wide smile on her face.


    ¡°Good, a nice meal before departing, I really got my last wish,¡± Kassara said, resting her face against the grass once again and shutting her eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that, Kassara. You won¡¯t die today, not on my watch,¡± Alana stated, then turned toward Raxana and the slaves. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Alana,¡± Raxana continued. ¡°They say a new group of soldiers will relieve these by morning. If we bind them and leave them, they will tell them about us. We could kill these two also.¡± The men shared another glance when they heard that, full of fear, sweat dripping down their foreheads. ¡°There¡¯s a stable with horses, we can ride into the woods and avoid the soldiers if we leave soon enough.¡±


    Alana looked at the men straight in the eyes.


    ¡°Are you willing to come with us to the steppe?¡± she asked. ¡°You would both be free men.¡±


    ¡°With barbarians? Nay!¡± said one of them, his hair was dark gold, and looked around twenty-eight years old.


    ¡°Avlix, it¡¯s best for us.¡± His companion looked at him with disbelief, with his hands over his bald head. ¡°Can¡¯t you see? We¡¯ll be free.¡±


    ¡°It is up to you,¡± Alana said severely. ¡°You will have freedom. We are looking to avenge our decimated tribe. Innocent¡ª¡±


    ¡°No one is innocent!¡± Avlix interrupted her, then spat on the floor.


    ¡°Well, they were,¡± Alana said bluntly. ¡°And the Empire killed them. And we may not be, but we are trying to make a difference,¡± she declared.


    ¡°We won¡¯t get into details,¡± Kassius spoke from behind her, he had his arms crossed and his expression was severe. ¡°We do not wish to kill innocent men¡ªthat is, you. We believe the gods have guided us so far. Thus, we shall not do dishonorable things. If you swear to join us, we shall grant you your lives. A worthy gift, is it not?¡±


    ¡°Foolishness! I prefer to die!¡± Avlix frowned, clenching his teeth. ¡°Innocent? What your people did to mine was far from innocent.¡±¡±That was a long time ago,¡± Alana said. ¡°It was another time, and we had another leader.¡±


    Avlix spat again and looked at her with a frowned brow and disdain in his eyes.


    ¡°Avlix, you¡¯re making a fool of yourself,¡± said the older man. ¡°Listen to these people. They¡¯re offering you freedom! Freedom from oppression, from fear, from having to obey a master who hates us and flogs us for any reason. Aren¡¯t you willing to give anything for freedom?¡±


    Avlix snorted.


    ¡°What should we do to you then?¡± Kassius asked with a somber face. He walked up to the slave and looked him in the eyes.


    ¡°Kill me, as if my life had any worth.¡±


    Alana and Kassius exchanged a glance. Aliya and Raxana did the same, their hands on their spears, as if ready to execute any order.


    Alana shook her head and crossed her arms.


    ¡°We shall not kill you,¡± Kassius said. ¡°You have done nothing to us. But if you want to live in bondage, you shall get what you desire.¡±


    ¡°But . . .¡± he shook his head.


    ¡°Just keep an eye on him,¡± Alana said, eyeing Raxana. ¡°And before we leave, tell them your friend was taken captive . . .¡±


    ¡°Magic boy,¡± Kassara hissed from the ground. ¡°You just told him where we¡¯re going, you genius, and now you want to wrap him up as a present? Kill him and be done with it, or if you want to be Kassius the merciful again, just chain him up and take him.¡±


    Kassius clenched his teeth.


    ¡°Keep your opinions for when they¡¯re needed, general. That is, for battle.¡±


    Alana lowered her head. That scene, there, in that moment? Kassius was as red as an apple. He faced Kassara.


    ¡°Madame,¡± he said. ¡°Why do you think you got stabbed? We need the gods¡¯ approval, and we can¡¯t have it if we keep killing innocent people.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me, boy, do you know anything about life?¡± Kassara snapped. ¡°If you¡¯ve come this far it¡¯s because of skills. Praying won¡¯t get an arrow through the enemy¡¯s heart.¡±


    ¡°We did perfectly fine without you! Alana even killed the governor, and she saved you!¡± he shouted.


    ¡°Kassius, stop!¡± Alana yelled. She turned to Kassara and was about to say the same thing, but she refrained herself. Was it because she was older?


    ¡°We need both of you, so please . . .¡± she continued. ¡°Don¡¯t fight. It¡¯s not necessary.¡±


    Alana turned towards the slave as if expecting an answer.


    ¡°Make your choice,¡± she ordered.


    ¡°It¡¯s all the same for me,¡± Avlix said, shrugging, but sweat dripped from his forehead.


    ¡°Do you have anything to live for?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Wine and women, food and drink, and I do not get much of that.¡±


    Alana took a deep breath. She really wanted to ask Raxana what to do. It was confusing. Everybody had different answers.¡±We do not kill men for no reason,¡± Kassius said. ¡°Only if we are attacked. We have sworn that as our principle.¡± Kassius turned toward Kassara. ¡°It is an oath that binds us and protects us, guided by Ares. We are men and women who believe in the power of oaths.¡± He faced the slave. ¡°We offer you your life, in exchange¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯d better kill me,¡± he giggled. ¡°Be done with it.¡±


    ¡°Avlix, no,¡± his companion said. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± Alana noticed moisture in his eyes.


    ¡°It is better to end this, friend. Better death than treason to my empire and my principles.¡±


    Kassius shook his head.


    Suddenly, they heard footsteps coming from the tower. Their comrades, who had hidden beyond the walls, were walking solemnly, guided by Aliya, now donning segmented armour taken from a dead soldier. Tor was holding the bear cub in his arms.


    ¡°They¡¯re all women . . .¡± Avlix commented, narrowing his eyes. ¡°Why are you all women?¡±


    ¡°The Empire killed most of our men,¡± Alana said. ¡°Our fathers, husbands, and sons. Only a handful survived.¡±


    He twisted his lips.


    ¡°You,¡± Raxana pointed her spear at him. ¡°If you want to die, come with me. I won¡¯t do it in front of your friend.¡±


    Avlix swallowed and got up slowly. He dusted off his tunic. Raxana pointed the spear at him as his friend remained knelt on the ground, taking a last look at him. Alana lowered her head. She wished to stop it. Would they be foolish to trust him to be quiet? But as Kassara had told her, in war and being a ruler, she would have to change her perspective.


    Raxana guided the man back to the stable, where he faced her, his face twisted into a grimace of fear under the torches.


    ¡°Please make it quick,¡± he muttered in the silent night, and his pleas even reached Alana¡¯s ears.


    The ones who had recently arrived stared in confusion. Kassius remained with his head low, as if trying to cope with it.


    And Raxana opened the door for the man and stepped inside. Then the door was closed with a bang, but even their steps were heard from within.


    ¡°No, no, please forgive me,¡± the moans were heard from inside. ¡°Please, I¡¯ll do what you want, don¡¯t kill me please!¡±


    ¡°Coward,¡± said Kassara, getting to her feet, as if nothing had happened to her.

 Chapter III - The Heroic Mysteries

    Florianus pulled down his hood and walked out of his newly built villa to the outskirts of town with six devotees behind him, all fellow army men, under the waxing moon and the humid springtime air. As he walked past the on-duty soldiers in their posts, they recognized him and saluted. They knew him even under the hood. After all, he was in charge of the place, and his responsibility started to weigh on him.


    The death of Governor Larius had been unfortunate, but it had been a sign, a chance for him to grow and fulfill his duty. A chance to change the world.


    The senate had not assigned a governor, so he was in charge of the infrastructure and security of the Province of Thracia. He had a vision to fulfill, but it was not like that of other commanders and politicians. It was not about himself.


    The Empire had to grow, and for that, it needed to be as disciplined as a beehive, and its influence as wide as the sun over the plains.


    The Empire, and by extension, he had a divine mission to grow and fill the earth.


    But the old gods that were praised in Itruschia were too divisive, too feeble. He, for one, believed in a new one, a new warrior god, the Killer of the Beasts, the Friend of the Rock, the Hero.


    He walked through the charred woods, lantern in hand, until he and the six who followed reached the shrine. He had ordered its construction two months earlier. It was small, surrounded by terracotta walls, and a tunnel that sunk into the earth. There, beneath the tunnel, the flame that never went out burned, and the priest who had come from the East sat cross-legged in the center, over a mat painted with solar designs. His hair was short, he wore a simple white toga, and a gray beard descended to his chest.


    Florianus walked through the hall, his ears attentive to the soothing atmosphere, his eyes fixed on the mural on the opposite side¡ªa great golden sun, its eight spokes shaped like lightning bolts of gold, casting light over a cyan sky, with golden stars at its edges. Other relief figures adorned the walls, representing the Hero, with a crown of sun rays over his head.


    ¡°Welcome, sons of Sen,¡± the old priest said. His deep voice echoed, like a tune emerging from the underworld. ¡°It is time to rise.¡±


    The attendees raised their fists and recited the formula:


    ¡°Oh, you, luminous sun. Luminous son, hero of time and ages, conqueror of the great dragon, you, who steps on the scorpion, you whose hair is pure light, obeyed by ravens, you who chases the demons away, you, oh tamer of the bull in the sky.¡±


    The priest continued the spell and chanted alone:


    ¡°The gates, you shake, the pillars tremble, the whole firmament shakes, and one day, the stars will fall.¡±


    Florianus felt his chest burn with joy and pride as the fire burned on the altar, and the unconquerable sun glittered in the mural before his eyes. He had sworn an oath and yearned to become like Him, the conqueror, and like the sun that shone over the world and brought light to the mountains. Like under one sun, he yearned to see all under one empire.


    And for that, he had to eradicate its foes.


    The priest passed the secret wine, and they drank with reverence and desire. They heard the words of the priest, and their eyes saw the great signs in the sky. For an instant, Florianus saw his God, the son of the Sun and the Night, and he heard his voice, and he wondered in his heart.


    But when the spirit of the wine abandoned him, he could not remember the words he had spoken.


    He clenched his fists.


    ¡°Thank you, brethren, you may go,¡± the priest muttered, and most of the hooded figures around stood up and departed, but Florianus remained still.


    ¡°Commander,¡± the priest bowed his head meekly.


    ¡°Priest,¡± he stood up and walked up to him, towering over him. The priest was a small man. ¡°I saw Him, I saw Him when I was drunk with His wine. And he spoke to me!¡±


    ¡°What did he say, Commander?¡± the priest asked, wearily, almost in disbelief.


    ¡°I cannot recall. It fled, like a fever dream after waking up. Now, you speak to me, priest. Have you heard his words? I intend on doing his will, and fighting for him and for this empire.¡±


    Florianus knew the way. The only way was to eliminate the peoples that could not be trusted. Like those Gadalians. He knew the resentment in them, he knew the stories they would tell their children. He could feel it.


    The priest whispered, his eyes fixed on Florianus¡¯ as if the words he was about to speak were too sacred. ¡°He told me the Empire will fill the earth, like He did in previous ages. He has been behind the Empire and its growth. He said it to me.¡±


    Florianus smiled. He had understood the same. The legends, the murals, the imagery, were only symbols that only the initiated could comprehend. The stars above marked the way, they taught the truth, and only those chosen to bear His light could know.


    ¡°But he says a great Challenge will rise. The dragon will rise. The bull is coming.¡±


    ¡°But the bull has been slain, the age of its constellation has long passed. And the dragon¡ª¡±


    ¡°It is coming back, and so will He, the hero. The hero will rise and fight it.¡±


    ¡°A hero?¡± Florianus raised an eyebrow. He had not seen it that way. He had never thought of Him, personified in an actual person. ¡°A hero as in a man?¡±


    ¡°Yes, a man or a woman.¡±Florianus lowered his head. He thought, with all that had happened, all the opportunities that had suddenly fallen into his hands, it could be a sign, it could be he who had received such great visions, that was destined to spread the light of the Empire. He had gone very far, from a lowly legionary, always putting his life on the line for valor, for the Empire. His ruthlessness in battle had drawn opposition and jealousy, but it had taken him far. Now, as an officer, never a politician, he was partly in charge of the great province of Tharcia. Now, his only rival was Cladius Duodecimus, the callous senator, a great merchant but a man of poor judgment and misguided morals. He had done more harm than good.


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    Dominated by passion and faith, Florianus thanked the priest, stepped up, and walked out of the shrine, under the starlit sky of Tharcia. He beheld with his own eyes the great stars and the grand shapes they formed in the evening map. From there, he saw the three stars that made up the Hunter¡¯s belt. The constellation, the hero, grasping his mace firmly in hand, facing the great Dragon, bravely, ready to fight.


    Just by looking into the sky, he knew the omens were true. He had seen the face of the Dragon fifteen years ago, and he knew, although Larius himself had boasted of killing him, that it was still alive. As above, so below, as they said, and the Dragon was still in the sky above. Its physical avatar had died fifteen years prior, but its soul lived on, ready to take another shape.


    And the hero would have to face him, abandoning all fear and doubts. The hero had to be ready to fight to the death and exterminate the Dragon forever, to rid the world of its very roots: its blood.


    ¡°Commander,¡± the voice of the centurion echoed behind him.


    Florianus turned. His co-religionist¡¯s hood was pulled up, revealing Julius, the Centurion. The initiate¡¯s mantle covering hung over his shoulders. He had been the first convert in that legion.


    ¡°Julius, I have seen him,¡± Florianus said.


    ¡°Him?¡± Julius asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°When we drank the wine, I saw the Hero. Did you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Julius shook his head. ¡°There were more things on my mind.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°No progress. The growth and the exports have been steady, the usable fields are not producing enough, only the old industries are alive. The barley doesn¡¯t grow to save its own life. Florianus, this is a mess! Your soldiers are scared of their own wives.¡±


    ¡°I have told you my plan,¡± Florianus said. ¡°But we cannot get it approved yet.¡±


    ¡°With all due respect, Commander, Larius could do most of the job, and we can¡¯t even finish it.¡±


    Florianus pursed his lips. ¡°Julius, be patient. We will solve it.¡±


    Julius sighed and pouted. His big chin made him look like a monster conjured in stories to scare off naughty children.


    ¡°My suggestion, sir,¡± he said, wiping his nose. ¡°As much as we are trying to keep the women at peace, they will not collaborate. It would take a few years for the¡ª¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell me that, Julius, I know.¡±


    ¡°Then . . ?¡±


    ¡°As my plans of total elimination and dispersion will not be approved by the Senate, I have thought of one thing to do. Get the old merchant out of the way.¡±


    ¡°Cladius? And how do you intend to do that, sir?¡± Julius raised an eyebrow. ¡°He is the only reason why this stinking village has not been abandoned. His income is increasing quickly, considering the setback four months ago when we came in. And the capital trusts him.¡±


    ¡°Julius, you fool, have you not heard me? I need to get him out of the way.¡±


    ¡°And how? By having him murdered?¡± Julius whispered.


    ¡°Only if it is absolutely necessary, I will not kill a fellow Itruschian, unless he is a threat to the Empire itself. And Cladius is talented. He is just misguided, and unfortunately, very stubborn.¡±


    ¡°What have you thought of?¡±


    Florianus clenched his fists. He was not as good at political machinations as Larius had been, his mind was used to battle formations and military strategy, not being diplomatic, callous, or deceitful. He always spoke his mind. But his duty as messenger of the Hero meant he had to delve into different avenues. A false conspiracy would not be believed in the Senate, and stirring up a rebellion to quench it immediately was out of the question. He had to send Cladius away.


    ¡°We must give Cladius Duodecimus a good reason to leave.¡±


    Suddenly, they heard rushed steps through the woods. Florianus opened his eyes wide in the dark and saw two armored soldiers approaching.


    He uncovered his hood and stood up.


    ¡°Soldiers, what is this, why have you come all the way here in the middle of the night?¡±


    ¡°Sire,¡± said a decurion, taking off his helmet. ¡°There has been another assassination attempt.¡±


    Florianus cleared his throat.


    ¡°Again? Do these people not learn?¡± He stood up. ¡°What did they do this time? Good you found them in time.¡±


    ¡°They arrested the perpetrator and she¡¯s at the administrative office now.¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± Florianus shook his head, just when he wanted to take a good night¡¯s sleep. Anyway, he thought, duty never slept, and he had to deal with it rapidly. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Florianus followed the two soldiers from the charred field, up into the village. The soldiers on guard were no longer chatting or rolling dice as they usually did during curfew time. They were standing up, some of them murmuring, their eyes casually wandering to the government building. Light from torches came from inside.Florianus removed his cloak and entered first. The main office had a seat and curtains, imperial eagles, and crude marble sculptures imported from the provincial capital, all dimly lit by torches around the walls. He heard murmurs behind the entrance garden and rushed through it, now holding his ritual cloak in one arm. Inside, two soldiers crouched against the walls, their faces contorted in pain. In the center of the room, two other soldiers held a woman by the arms. Her body was broad, covered by a long elaborate robe of hemp and linen, with flowery designs descending down to the waist. Her hair was brown and partly white.


    ¡°It¡¯s you!¡± Florianus exclaimed. He recognized her immediately. She went by the name of Zita and was one of the only town artisans still active, and thus had a privileged position. Not that she deserved it. On top of that, the woman was the mother of one of the rebels, a murderer who had killed her own husband and escaped.


    He looked at the two agonizing soldiers. He may have selected them intentionally to keep an eye on the woman, but he couldn¡¯t remember.


    The woman kept her gaze up, unflinching.


    ¡°I should have known!¡± Florianus said. ¡°You meant trouble, nothing else.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything,¡± the woman protested.


    ¡°Tell that to us!¡± yelled one of the soldiers who was contorting with pain, kneeling, with his head against the wall and his hand on his abdomen.


    Florianus crossed his arms. ¡°What happened here?¡±


    ¡°Nothing!¡± the woman declared.


    ¡°I¡¯m not talking to you,¡± he said, clenching his teeth. ¡°You two, you arrested this woman, what is going on?¡±


    ¡°These two soldiers,¡± one of the ones holding the woman said. ¡°They reported that they had been poisoned. She usually cooks for them, and tonight they had a violent reaction to the food.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not true! They just happened to get sick!¡± she yelled.


    ¡°You shut your mouth!¡± Florianus said, tensing his gloved hand in front of her face. ¡°Do you know what? Larius liked to keep people in chains without food for weeks. But I won¡¯t make it easy for you to escape. I will make sure I don¡¯t waste any time, and I¡¯ll cut your throat now.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s unfair. I did not poison them, that¡¯s a lie. I did not do it, I did not!¡± the woman said.


    ¡°Stop lying, woman!¡± Florianus yelled.


    Then, one of the soldiers who held her pulled a leather bag that hung from his belt. ¡°Shut that lying mouth,¡± the soldier snapped. ¡°We found this in her garden!¡±


    ¡°Let me see,¡± Florianus ordered, and took the bag from the soldier¡¯s hands. He pulled the small fiber straps and looked inside. He saw three dry pieces of mushroom, white stems now yellowish. The cap was red with white dots. His heart turned around. That sprout was used to make the sacred wine.


    ¡°Sir!¡± the woman begged.


    "Poisoned..." he muttered. But inside his heart, Florianus felt rage. He knew, although the past months since the death of Larius, his military rule of the province and the town had been uneventful, that something was brewing. And if it was poison, any attempt on a soldier''s life would mean death. He did not care to be cruel, only to wash the world clean. And that meant blood had to be spilled.

 Chapter IV - Flight for Freedom

    Torches blazed inside the troops'' dining hall, casting light and shadows on the wooden walls and common tables. Alana''s stomach groaned with hunger. Tor walked in from the open door, his hair had grown past his shoulders, and he held a hemp book under his arm, on which he practiced writing whenever they were not traveling. He did not care much for fight training anymore, and although Alana could still sense jealousy and mistrust between Tor and Kassius, they were getting along.


    Gitara walked behind him, holding her baby in her arms. She was now two months old. She had named her Lesa, and she was growing strong even in their dire circumstances. Kassius'' adopted bear cub followed, walking close to Tor, colored like a chestnut, and sturdy at four months, it was growing so big that it would soon be impossible to carry in arms. Two other women, Vita and Lashka, were older than the rest and had lost a lot of weight during their travels. Hrezia, the old chieftain''s daughter, and Irema accompanied them from behind.


    "Follow us," said the bald slave, looking down.


    The slaves guided them to a wide kitchen, with large barrels covering the walls, built to store grain and beer, and hemp bags full of hard barley bread. In the corner, underneath a wide iron chimney, there was a large cauldron supported by a metal stand, with red coals still heating the furnace beneath. Aylix walked toward it and removed the lid. It was as big as a shield, and Alana was the first to look at its contents. It was a red broth, with lamb cubes and lentils floating about. Its soft, fatty smell made her stomach roar for a taste.


    They distributed the soldiers'' clay vases and shared the meal, devouring it like hungry peasants in silence. Kassara said she was well enough to stand and take care of herself, so she joined them at the table. After the meal, Alana felt bloated and sluggish, and many of her companions complained about the same. Then, the slaves distributed fresh goat milk.


    Before the refreshment, Raxana stood up and told the slaves to follow her outside. She returned shortly, banging open the door.


    "We must leave now," she said urgently.


    "What is it?" Alana said, putting down her vase.


    "I''ve seen a carriage coming from the north. Soldiers."


    "Oh," Alana said, getting up and instinctively eyeing Kassius. Although those surroundings were Spartan and rudimentary, she felt unwilling to leave the protection of a warm dry roof and run back into the fields.


    "Fine, let''s go," Alana said with a sigh.


    "We have good news as well," Raxana said. Alana noticed a slight smile of relief on her lips. "Come and see for yourselves."


    The group marched into a barn, home to about half a dozen horses. Raxana, a horse mistress in her youth, approached one of them.


    "Do any of you not know how to ride?" she asked.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.Tor raised his hand."We will have to share, then," Raxana said. "There are thirteen of us. Fifteen with the two men. Kassara, I will come with you. Aliya, please take the boy, Tor. Are you two comfortable riding together?" She looked at Kassius and Alana. They both nodded. At least they would rest their legs.


    "How about you, mistresses?" she asked the matrons. They nodded as well. They had also fought before.


    "A white horse for the bearers of the sword," Kassius said, eyeing a horse of the same color, its snout dark and its hair neatly trimmed. Alana had not ridden in years, since the death of Targitaos, her father''s horse. A sudden flow of grief invaded her heart, remembering those days in the village, and she wished her father was there to give her ideas on how to be a better rider.


    The bald slave opened the barn door for her, and she approached the horse slowly. It stepped back nervously.


    "It''s fine, boy, it''s fine," she said, extending her hand and patting it with care and patience. The horse responded positively and moved its ears forward.


    "Alana, let''s go, there''s no time to waste," Kassara said, already mounted on a black steed, with Kassius'' shirt still tied to her body.


    Alana looked around. What they were about to do was considered one of the worst crimes, especially if it was done in a town like hers. Stealing was a hideous crime, unthinkable in her tribe, and when it happened, it was dealt with severely. But stealing a horse was equal to murder.


    And now, she had done both.


    "I know what you are thinking, Alana," Kassius whispered next to her.


    She shook her head. "This is unimaginable. I would never think of doing this . . ." she said.


    Kassius held her hand. "This is a righteous act. If we do not take their horses, their men will ride them to find us and kill us. They will have seen what we did to their men, and the new governor will think he has a good reason to punish our women. We need these horses in order to raise our own army."


    Alana nodded.


    Kassius placed a saddle on the horse. Alana calmed the horse down and climbed slowly, Kassius mounted and sat behind her.


    It was time to go. Tor held onto the bear cub, and Aliya held the reins. They spurred into the night, leaving the post behind. Alana guided the horse out once the slaves had already mounted their own horses, and she spurred. Once again, she felt the air blowing through her hair. Kassius held on and leaned on her back, and she felt as if breaking the chains that had kept her, and leaving a dark prison into a new world, the one she was born to live in. Before them, the steppe spread far and wide, below the infinite map of stars sinking into the dark horizon of grass shaking like the waves of the sea, with a pure orange tint that marked the coming sunrise, and she breathed in as if the air there was purer.

 Chapter V - The Merchant and the Soldier

    "Sire," the woman addressed Florianus without an ounce of fear in her voice. But at the same time, he sensed frustration. "Just listen to me, I have not poisoned them, I haven''t done anything wrong, and if you kill me, you''d be killing an innocent. There is no justification, but I know you all are just liars and hypocrites."


    "Then what is this for?" he asked, lifting the bag.


    "For worshipping the Goddess! Easter is coming, and there''s a festival to prepare, and we have daily devotions to do. We start today; I need to prepare it for my sisters."


    "This is known to cause poisoning and death," Florianus declared, raising his voice.


    "Yes, but it also lets people see the spirits."


    "Why did you have it? And don''t you see the current state of these two soldiers? Whether you use it for your formula or not, you have used it against these two men who are tasked with guarding your security."


    Florianus frowned, looking at the woman from her feet up. He thought he could use a death like that to remind the Gadalians that no opposition would be tolerated. He could make an example out of her.


    "They were not poisoned by me, they might have eaten bad food. Sometimes it''s the ticks that bring this disease."


    "You are lying," Florianus said, approaching her, his gaze meeting her brown eyes unflinchingly. "These two soldiers trusted you. This is deserving of death."


    "Ah, who are you to speak of trust?" the woman yelled hysterically. "Oh, how we trusted you and you killed the men of this tribe."


    "Keep pretending you did not know about their plans to attack us," Florianus said. "I know I cannot trust you, and yet, I have been patient with you long enough."


    "Tell me, sire, is there any logic in me trying to poison these men? It''s impossible."


    "You want to kill soldiers, don''t you?"


    "No, sire, I swear I have not done anything."


    "Is it because of your daughter? She died of hunger in the forest."


    The woman''s expression became sombrer again, she tensed her fists.


    "Just wait and see, my daughter is not dead," she muttered through clenched teeth.


    "What did you say?" Florianus narrowed his eyes.


    "Irema is not dead."


    "Oh, so have you talked to her?" Florianus scoffed.


    "I know one day she will return."


    Florianus waved his hand back to slap her, and did, the woman turned her face, but her body did not move. She looked straight at him.


    Florianus continued, "Accused of attempts against the life of a soldier, seditious tendencies, and threats. You, like every other woman here, hate this Empire. You, however, deserve to be punished, so no one else acts on their hate."


    He turned his back on her and walked towards the marble eagle.


    It was time to show them,; he knew it was burning in their souls.


    Then, he heard rushed hurried footsteps onat the front door. He turned and saw a man in a yellow tunic. The man was Itruschian, and he knew him very well, but the tunic he wore had been made by Gadalian hands, in their style, but adapted into an Itruschian garment. The short man stood defiantly, his black curly hair towering over his head, his skin dark like the earth beneath, and his eyes wide and piercing.


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    "What is going on in here?" Cladius Duodecimus stepped inside, panting, as if he had run to get there.


    "Cladius Duodecimus?" Florianus said, with his hands on thehis back and a frown on his face. "The question is, what are you doing here?"


    "Rumours of an arrest," Cladius said, then, he turned towards the woman. "Mistress Zita, what is going on here?"


    "Senator Cladius, I''m so glad you came," she said.


    "Mistress Zita?" Florianus asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "Florianus, what are you doing here.? What has this woman done?" Cladius asked.


    "She attempted to poison two soldiers. She was caught with this venomous sprout in her home," she lifted the bag with two fingers.


    "Is it true, Zita?" Cladius asked.


    "Not at all, that sprout is used for many reasons, and both of you know that."


    "Convenient, huh?" Florianus said. "But we have proof, these two men are deathly sick, and yet you act like nothing happened. But these deeds shall not go unpunished."


    "What punishment do you have in mind?" Cladius said.


    "Does it concern you, Cladius?" Florianus scoffed.


    "Yes, it does, as the Commercial Delegate¡ª"


    "Cladius, this is a matter of provincial security, it has nothing to do with your post."


    "But this woman is essential to this settlement, she works from dusk to dawn producing the clothes that we have managed to sell in the West, along with her few apprentices. You know how the demand is slowly increasing. I need her."


    "Cladius," Florianus advanced and breathed in his face. Cladius did not flinch, but he was nervous, Florianus could tell. "The law is the law."


    "But what law, Florianus? You are creating it on the spot."


    "Martial law!" Florianus bellowed. "Now do not argue against me, for it is my responsibility to ensure the security of this settlement."


    "No, Florianus, that is neither proper nor fitting of Imperial officers."


    "Who are you to tell me what is fitting? She is not even a citizen!"


    "She is a subject of the Empire and as such, she must be dealt with according to the law¡ªwith the actual law of the land, not just a whim. Besides, there is no proof."


    "Fine," Florianus said, then turned his back on him. "Soldiers, bring her down and interrogate her."


    "Interrogate?" Cladius protested. He was aware, as anyone would be, of what he meant by interrogation.


    "Do not waste any time, soldiers. Get her to confess."


    "I haven''t done anything wrong!" Zita cried.


    "Get her away from me!" Florianus snapped. "Take her out and punish her."


    "Florianus, why are you doing that?" Cladius asked. "Don''t you say you''re against torture?"


    "I shall punish the wicked. And you, defender of criminals?"


    "Listen, Florianus, the only reason we are still here is because we are still bringing profit. A wagon full of gold is not enough to sustain a colony. We need production."


    "You deal with production, I deal with law and order. I''ve had enough of this," Florianus put on his coat.


    "That woman is innocent."


    "We will soon see," he said, and walked out into the night.


    ***


    Cladius returned to his newly-built villa. His Gadalian servants were waiting outside, hands up in their faces, expecting his words on what had just happened.


    "Master Cladius," one of them, a young woman called Ydrina, who used to be an apprentice of Zita asked. "Did they let Mistress Zita go?"


    Cladius had a wry expression. He stopped close to her and sighed. "She will not be executed yet, but they took her to be interrogated."


    Ydrina covered her mouth.


    Cladius shook his head, he pushed the wooden doors that lead into his room, clenching his teeth. He had no word or vote into what happened. At least, it was only one person thatwho had been taken to interrogation, but Zita was essential to his plans. She had been left to work and been provided with materials, and still had a few apprentices to work with. Now, she had to fill up production or else he would not have anything to sell.


    He lay down in his bed, but did not manage to sleep. He had to make his plan come true. At that moment, Zita was probably being flogged. He tensed his fists until blood came out. He could not allow that cruelty to go on.


    He had to get rid of Florianus. There was no space for both in that settlement. But for that, he had to become Governor.


    If only he could win the favour of the Capital, of at least a handful of senators, he could have his way.


    If he made enough money through the province, he knew he could even be named Governor and could easily buy favour in the senate and remove Florianus from his post. Florianus, was all talk. He would ramble for hours about how the world would be better if Gadalians were annihilated, but he had not killed a single one of them since he arrived. On the other hand, if Florianus himself or any of his supporters gained the upper hand among the senate in the Capital, he knew he was lost. The people on top played harder than either of them, as elimination was their favourite card.

 Chapter VI - At the Edge of the World

    After a few hours of riding, still before sunrise, they set up their tents of fur and hides. They found a flock of strange beasts that Alana had never seen before. They had antlers the size of a human hand, long and only slightly curved, their fur was short and yellowish, and their snout was prominent and shaped like a vase.


    The clan stalked and hunted two and roasted them in an open fire. Their meat was soft and lean, a bit musky, their inner organs savory, with a slight irony flavor. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± Alana asked, leaning her head on Kassius¡¯ chest, watched only by the makeshift tent¡¯s walls of fur. They had little time to be alone, and they treasured every moment. ¡°Have you seen anything, Kasha? In your visions, I mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I can only hope the chieftains of the steppe tribes will agree to join us.¡±


    Alana sighed.


    ¡°Kassara told me about the tribe that camps next to the river.¡± She turned around, and folded her arms above his bony chest, supporting her chin on her forearms. ¡°She said their chieftain was a proud Gadalian, who hated the Itruschians with all his heart.¡±


    ¡°No wonder he decided to live outside the borders.¡±


    ¡°Many families were split after the war,¡± she said, with a whisper. ¡°The ones who followed him out into the steppe were few. And Kassara says they are fewer now.¡±


    ¡°Fewer?¡± Kassius said. He narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°I heard they have been struck by a plague.¡±


    ¡°Plague? We¡¯ll see, maybe we can help them.¡±


    ¡°We never had epidemics like the Empire has, Kassius, it¡¯s not normal.¡±


    ¡°Well, ticks are everywhere, it doesn¡¯t matter what you eat or what your lifestyle is¡ªticks, rats, these things carry evil. Once they appear, things go downhill.¡±


    Alana shook her head.


    ¡°We can help them,¡± Kassius continued. ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but there¡¯s a branch of the Commercial Routes that pass through here, isn¡¯t there? We could find some secondhand books on common plagues and how to treat them. And, there are some books that I¡¯d like to buy, anyway.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Kassara muttered. ¡°But our priests are the best when it comes to casting out those evils, we don¡¯t need books to tell us what to do.¡±


    ¡°Alana, I¡¯m serious. There¡¯s a lot of patricians from Itruschia who are buying Parthian treaties; they are interested in their doctrines and mysteries. It¡¯s for a reason.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. And . . . what books are you planning to buy? And with what money?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about this. Listen. My father told me last year about this strange cult that¡¯s becoming popular among soldiers. In the Itruschian army, I mean.¡±


    ¡°A cult?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes. A cult. A very different one. I don¡¯t know much about it, but I heard it comes from the East, it¡¯s some kind of solar worship mixed with dragonslayer myths and astrology.¡±


    ¡°More dragonslayers,¡± she giggled. She could only think that the Itruschians were still scared and had recurring nightmares of her tribe kicking their butt fifteen years prior.


    ¡°And there¡¯s an elephant in the tent that we haven¡¯t even talked about since it happened,¡± Kassius said.¡±Oh.¡± She understood immediately. ¡°Yes, that.¡± She took a deep breath, intrigued and scared. They hadn¡¯t heard anything about it, and if she had heard about it instead of seeing it with her own eyes, she wouldn¡¯t have believed it. No one else saw it, no one else but her and the dead soldiers whose limbs had been scattered like broken branches and whose blood had painted the snow that day. No one else had, but the footprints were there, and Kassius even crawled through them.


    But it was real; she had seen a giant, and it had run through the forest, tumbling down the trees and scaring the ravens away, and its curved stony back towered as tall as the evergreens.


    ¡°We have been isolated for long,¡± Kassius said, then he slowly lifted his torso and jumped to his feet. Alana rose and stood by his side. ¡°If there¡¯s a giant walking around, somebody must have noticed.¡±


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to ask the slaves.¡±


    Kassius stepped out of the tent and went to see the two, who were sitting next to the fire. They looked up at him; Avlix had a bit of resentment in his glance, and the other one, Kavros, had a neutral expression.


    ¡°I have a question for you two,¡± Kassius said, crossing his arms.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Kavros asked, as if there was something that could accuse them.


    ¡°Have you heard stories of giants roaming about?¡±


    Avlix and Kavros exchanged a glance.


    ¡°Like those two?¡± Kavros asked his friend. ¡°Do you remember the one who hung himself?¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡± Kassius insisted.


    ¡°Those rumors came from soldiers who came from the North, on rotations. One of them told us a strange story, that a comrade of his heard from another comrade. The comrade of the comrade was said to have seen giants roaming about in the woods, that¡¯s it. He went mad and he hung himself from a tree.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s another one,¡± Avlix said, looking down. ¡°There¡¯s an old Suevian town many miles west of here, it was right in the middle of a thick forest of redwood and birch. They used to harvest apples. So the entire town got killed, massacred. Not even the dogs were left alive. They destroyed the whole thing. No one knows who did it; they blamed another tribe, but they pointed out that the trees around the area had been split. As if a ten feet tall lumberjack had cut all of them halfway and then given up. And the footprints, they said the footprints were huge.¡±


    ¡°That was quite detailed for a rumor,¡± Kassius muttered.


    ¡°It¡¯s a thousand miles away, but it caused quite a stir,¡± Avlix muttered. ¡°Why did you ask?¡±


    ¡°Rumors as well.¡±


    ¡°Well, if the Titans are awake, there¡¯s not much left to do.¡± Kavros sighed.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t believe it even if I saw it,¡± Avlix responded.


    ¡°I would worry,¡± Kassius muttered, then turned around. Tor was seated next to the fire, the leather-bound book in hand. Kassius approached.


    ¡°How is it going?¡±Tor winked at him, then showed a piece of hemp paper from Kassius¡¯ old diary, a gift he had made to Tor as the young boy wanted to practice writing.


    ¡°What have you been writing, comrade?¡± Tor extended the paper to him, and Kassius took a quick look.


    ¡°Is this poetry?¡± he asked, raising an eyebrow. Tor nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had it in you. It¡¯s really not that bad,¡± he turned around. ¡°Hey, Ala, you¡¯ve got to see this.¡±


    Alana peered out of the tent.


    ¡°Tor wrote a poem,¡± Kassius turned and the boy was as red as an apple.


    ¡°Oh, did he? What is it like,¡± Alana said from the distance, a sweet smile on her face and her luscious blonde hair reflecting the bright sun.


    ¡°Should I read it?¡± Kassius asked, and Tor shook his head. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s great.¡±


    Oh fields, carriers of dreams,


    watchers of a long-gone day,


    you have beheld our fathers ride


    in secret,


    you have beheld our kinsmen fight and slaughter.


    Tell of the days when dragon flags arose and prospered¡­


    ¡°That¡¯s amazing!¡± Alana exclaimed.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t finished, have you?¡± Kassius asked the boy. ¡°Who would¡¯ve known? You really have it in you.¡±


    ***


    They rode through the steppe for weeks, hunting in the fields and singing war songs under the starlit heavens. Due to the lack of ink, Tor started carving the events that happened to them into the bones of the beasts Kassius hunted for them. Kassius had started to fast again and meditated on the name of Ares, although he started to think the god was hiding the future from him. The veterans started questioning among themselves where the Varalkian camp would be.


    Kassius loved the closeness with Alana. His heart felt warm, and he felt lucky for having her by his side, especially in those tough moments. They shared secrets the entire world would go crazy over, and he felt he would die if he was forced to lose her. He wished she did not have to fight and that they could retreat back to his old villa and live a happy life together. But the world had changed, and he feared it would spiral out of control even further.


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    After a few more days of riding, they saw a group of hunters on horseback. Alana turned her head and spoke to Kassius.


    ¡°It¡¯s them.¡± The clothing of the hunters was traditionally Gadalian, and Kassius recognized it too. It was like seeing a long-lost brother. As soon as they noticed Alana¡¯s group, they rode in their direction. Kassara and Raxana walked at the helm. The men approached with curiosity. One was a short man, his hair between grey and black, small, a bulky body, and messy hair. The other was younger, probably his son, his hair was dark blond and sported a short dark beard. They braced their horses close to the group and glanced at them in awe.


    The short man¡¯s eyes opened wide.


    ¡°Oh, by the Red Sun!¡± he said. ¡°Am I seeing things?¡±


    Kassara reacted with a cocky smile.


    ¡°You are not, Pharkus,¡± she said, leaning her fist on her hips.¡±What are you doing here? I heard your village was burned to the ground,¡± Pharkus said, shaking his head.


    ¡°As you can imagine, it¡¯s a long story.¡±


    ¡°Who are all these?¡± the man asked.


    ¡°Look at the blonde girl,¡± Kassara pointed at Alana. ¡°She¡¯s the daughter of Ileria and Alan. That tall scrawny kid is the grandson of Aranus.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Pharkus muttered. ¡°I bid you welcome. Your forebears were great men and women.¡± He immediately turned around and called the young man on the black horse. ¡°Dervas, my son, go to the camp. Tell them the men and women of Turnaz have come so that they are welcome.¡±


    ¡°Yes, father,¡± the boy said, bowing his head. He pulled his reins, turned back, and spurred.


    ¡°So, there are many things I¡¯d like to know,¡± Pharkus said. His horse waved his ears and neighed.


    ¡°We could say the same thing,¡± Kassara muttered, looking back at Alana. She called her over with a sign.


    ¡°This is Ileria¡¯s daughter? By the gods! She¡¯s the living image of her mother,¡± Pharkus said.


    ¡°And she is our chieftain,¡± Kassara said, lifting her chin.


    Parkus was not impressed. He looked at Kassara again, narrowing his eyes, as if demanding more information.


    ¡°All of us here owe her our lives,¡± Kassara clarified. ¡°Raxana and I are advising her. We will tell Chieftain Varalkas of our struggles and certain demands we have.¡±


    ¡°Demands?¡± Parkus sighed. He spurred again and moved toward Alana. He approached with Kassius seated behind her. The man was wearing an open jacket, red ochre and golden in color. Over his shoulders, a red cape held together by a golden brooch depicting a dragon with open wings. The quiver hung from his belt, fashioned with intricate embroidering that represented bears and dragons. ¡°How can we help?¡±


    Alana raised her head. Kassius could feel the tension as she inadvertently pulled the reins, her fists clenched.


    ¡°I-I . . .¡± she stuttered.


    Parkus stared at her inquisitively, and Kassius prayed in his mind that the answer Alana gave could be enough to gain his respect and support.


    ¡°I need an army to liberate our people. All of our comrades were killed by the Empire.¡±


    Parkus sighed. ¡°I feared as much. Talk to our chieftain, but armies, we have none. Our men and women are all dying.¡±


    ¡°We have heard of a plague,¡± Kassius spoke up.


    Parkus tilted his head, acknowledging him.


    ¡°Yes, a plague has scourged us. Not only you have suffered with the tidings of time. Have we done a great evil when fighting that old war? Now, we wish only to raise our beasts, ensuring they may not die in sickness, take care of our families, and live on.¡±


    ¡°Parkus of Varlakia,¡± Alana said, her voice louder and more confident. ¡°I admit I am not skilled as a leader. I know not of warfare, and my skills at the sword are limited. But by the grace of Ares and Venus, three of us stood against the Empire and prevailed.¡±


    Kassius felt his heart pound faster and warmth in his chest, but Parkus sighed.


    ¡°I am not the one to hear this. My voice has no value in this matter, let us ride, and you may meet our chieftain and address him,¡± he said, pulling the reins. His horse trotted away.


    ¡°Aye!¡± said Kassara, spurring again. The rest of the company followed.


    Kassius could feel a shift in the air, but what they had heard could potentially ruin their plans, as they had been confident they could gather an army quickly and ride back to save their people.


    ¡°That was a great talk,¡± Kassius said to Alana. ¡°I could really feel it, but did you see that man¡¯s face? He seemed almost as depressed as our people were.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I agree, but we¡¯ve seen worse. They¡¯ve got to listen, besides, I know chieftain Varlakas was a brave man. He even fought Hrezia¡¯s father for leadership. He really wanted to keep fighting against the Empire, I¡¯m sure he has planned this forever, that¡¯s why he came here, to the edge.¡±


    ¡°And yet, they are at peace, Alana. They also followed the peace treaty, they basically guard the Empire from outside.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    Kassius sighed. ¡°They¡¯re afraid to engage in battle with them, they have no reason to.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, Kasha, they will listen.¡±


    And they did ride forth, until the sun leaned over the horizon and they saw red yurts with fluttering flags, wide fields protected by movable wooden fences, and cows and sheep pasturing behind them. Two mounted sentinels approached, both young men with pointed hats, simple fish-scale type armours, long leather trousers, and fur-coated boots.


    ¡°Who comes to the Varlakian tribe?¡± one of them asked. They were young men, Kassius thought, about his age.


    ¡°These are our sisters from the other side of the river,¡± Parkus said. ¡°Our relatives.¡±


    The sentinels looked at each other, nodded, and rode forth toward the camp. Alana couldn¡¯t wait and spurred on her white horse. It was happy and restful, even far away from its previous home.


    Their horses trotted lightly, approaching the yurts. But when they entered the camp, Alana did not see the vigorous steppe life she yearned to experience. She felt her breath stop for an instant as she passed by the untidy yurts, some with crying children in the arms of thin women. When Alana glanced at the babies, she noticed their arms were almost bare to the bone. Some young children ran around naked, their bones able to be counted on sight. Flies covered the entire place. A blacksmith stood outside, his leather gloves and apron on him, arguing with a bald man who haggled his prices, his clothes long and elaborate, but old, its colors fading.None of them were glorified Gadalians, the proud race of artisans and warriors. However, their clothes retained their craftsmanship and wealth, although the colors had faded with time, and many wore patches on their clothes. Both men and women wore hemp tunics in the front, made of triangular flaps, one crossing over the other, kept in place with belts of gold or bronze for those who could not afford it. Their trousers were long, slightly baggy, with rich vertical embroidery. However, the people appeared rugged, weak, and their glances held deep pain, like men who had lost a decades-long war.


    ¡°What is wrong with them?¡± Alana whispered, tilting her head back so Kassius could hear.


    ¡°That¡¯s what the plague looks like.¡±


    ¡°But I wonder what is causing it, and what we can do.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll find out.¡±


    They trotted through the aligned tents, and Alana caught a glimpse of sickly animals beyond the wooden fence. Some of the cattle looked barely alive, a cow had its bones showing as it sat on its scrawny legs.


    Alana could see a wide yurt in the middle of the camp, much bigger than the rest, about fifteen feet in diameter. A large flag waved on top, yellow with a dragon with open wings and a red planet or moon on its upper side. A metal chimney emerged from the center of the yurt, towering over it, and beneath, the curtains that guarded the small door had the icon of a bear.


    The curtains opened, and a man stepped out. His hair was dark and short, his skin olive-colored, and his eyes green like the forest in spring. He wore a fur cape, a yellow tunic with orange buttons, trousers made of animal skin, and a red band on his forehead. It was the priest. He raised his hand, signaling the visitors to stop.


    Then, another figure emerged from the yurt. He had a long, flowing red-and-white beard, a ruddy face, and wore a black robe over his shoulders. A pointed headdress covered in sparkling gold towered over his head, and a golden pectoral covered his chest. Although he was a bit fat, his features were those of a true nobleman.


    ¡°Welcome, sisters, and young sons of this race,¡± the man said in a deep, commanding voice. That was Varalkas the Red. ¡°It has been so long since you came to visit us. I have heard of the loss, I have heard of the death of Turnaz the chieftain. And here, I see only women. Women are the remains of the great followers of Turnaz. Those who wanted peace... Are you leading this group, woman? I do not know you. Who are you?¡±


    Kassara spurred her horse on and advanced, stopping in front of the chieftain, with her comrade Raxana behind her.


    ¡°I am Kassara Markdatra, veteran of the War of the Dragon, captain of two hundred in the Raven Division. I commanded the horde after the demise of General Ileria.¡±


    Varalkas lifted his chin. ¡°So, are you the leader of this tribe?¡±


    Kassara looked away and stared at Alana with her deep brown eyes. Alana felt as if an arrow was pointing at her.¡±Nay, Chieftain Varalkas, I am but a servant of our elected chieftain. The one who commands us is extremely young and may seem insignificant, even foolish, to you and many experienced warriors here. Too young, too simple, sometimes naive. But she alone, and the counsel of her young husband, are the only reason we survived our struggles and came all the way here.¡±


    ¡°A long talk,¡± Varalkas interrupted her. ¡°Who is this that you speak about? We heard only rumors of assassins lurking in the woods.¡±


    ¡°Our chieftain is Alana of Adachia.¡±


    Varalkas raised an eyebrow.


    Alana swallowed, and Kassius tapped her shoulders. She felt she was about to melt; she had heard so much of Varalkas, and she could not spoil that moment.


    ¡°So, if she is in charge, let her come into my tent and talk, from chieftain to chieftain,¡± Varalkas said, turning his back on the committee.


    Alana nodded.


    ¡°Ala, should I write a sigil for you?¡± Kassius whispered in her ear. ¡°Like one with the power of being persuasive or something.¡±


    Alana turned her hips away, climbed down, with her feet on the stirrup iron, then down to the ground. She shook her head, not knowing what she should say.


    ¡°Not now, Kassius, but... Should I tell him everything?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Keep the Sword for later, just hint at it,¡± he said.


    She nodded; she knew such a brave man had to make the right choice. She knew he could. She quietly advanced and entered the yurt, looking around. The townspeople back in Adachia would set up yurts over the hills during the summer and spring seasons, and she enjoyed sleeping in them. But in the middle of the steppe, she felt she was traveling back in time.


    She walked stealthily. The inside floor was covered by a wide carpet depicting a stellar map, with the animals of the heavens painted in great detail. Varalkas was already sitting cross-legged in the center, next to the priest, very close to the movable chimney, empty and cold during the spring.


    She advanced and imitated his posture. The priest, perhaps representing the god Mercury, whispered something into the chieftain¡¯s ear that Alana could not hear, but the chieftain nodded at his counselor. She feared they were judging her unfit. She had pictured Varalkas as a strong-willed warrior, but he was frankly out of shape, with a big belly almost springing out of his jacket.


    ¡°So, Alana of Adachia, daughter of Alan and Ileria, I suppose,¡± the chieftain said, eyeing her from head to toe.


    ¡°Y-y-yes, sir.¡± She cleared her throat. She felt her tongue stick for what felt like a minute.


    ¡°I have yet to hear of your exploits,¡± Varalkas said. ¡°Frankly, I do not let myself be fooled by appearances, and defending yourself to the point of bringing terror to the imperial legions deserves my admiration. So, young woman, what are you seeking here¡ªrefuge for your people?¡±Alana lowered her eyes, contemplating how to express something of utmost importance. ¡°Chieftain, you are aware of the fate that has befallen your friends and brothers in Adachia.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± he replied, a frown etching itself onto his face.


    ¡°I have come to implore you for assistance. We need you to lead us back to our village, to avenge our fallen brothers. Drive out the enemy and liberate their women and children. Your sisters have been enslaved. We endured great hardships, but with the blessings of Ares and Venus, we emerged triumphant.¡±


    Varalkas stared at her with his usual impassive gaze. ¡°That is impossible,¡± he said dryly. ¡°We lack the manpower to fulfill even our duties as guardians. Our main task was to protect a commercial route in the north, and even that stretched us thin.¡±


    ¡°Chieftain, with all due respect¡ª¡± Her heart pounded within her chest. ¡°¡ªthe gods have aided us. I cannot claim to be a formidable warrior or as cunning as others, but the gods are on our side. Kassius knows this; he constantly searches the sky for signs. He hears them, and his visions have proven true.¡±


    ¡°Kassius?¡± Varalkas asked.


    ¡°My husband,¡± she confirmed.


    ¡°The tall boy?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Varalkas cleared his throat and scratched his red beard. ¡°No, but you may stay with us.¡±


    ¡°But what if the gods reveal a sign to you?¡± Alana inquired. ¡°We possess evidence of their support, an omen that confirms it all.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Gather the people, allow us to address them, and let them decide whether to fight alongside us.¡±


    ¡°

 Chapter VII – Red Hunters

    ¡°This way,¡± Askar said, guiding an armoured phalanx unit through the swampy forest. They all wore their armours, galeas, and held large shields and lances in hand. Elkas, the decurion was by his side, the tunic and segmented armour could not hide his massive back, and his arms hung about like tree-trunks.


    Askar had told them what he had seen. Elkas¡¯ words had been true, and the rest of the company knew exactly what it was. The day before had been full of preparation and pressure.


    They walked out into the old defensive wall and through the gap that had been carved through the rocks and wood. They saw the signs of the centurion¡¯s blood, and where his remains had been taken away the previous days. And below, a row of footprints, like the trail of a catapult. Each was as long as a cow, and the space between each step like the length of a rescue navy boat.


    ¡°My gods!¡± one of the soldiers exclaimed, and Askar saw how his face turned pale. The rest of the soldiers stopped, many of them kneeling and touching the deep gorges produced by the giant¡¯s feet.


    Elkas took a deep breath.


    ¡°Let us continue on,¡± he said. ¡°If we let him live long enough, he may destroy our camp as we sleep, or destroy another village.¡±


    Askar nodded. He was right. Elkas was a brave man, and yet even brave men like him faced fear. They were all afraid, Askar could feel it. He grasped the lance in his arm, leaned it against his shoulder and advanced with the group, walking in their tight formations, attentive at any noise and any movement in the bushes and trees.


    ¡°Beware of anything that looks like a grey rock,¡± Askar whispered. ¡°When we saw it first, it did not move.¡±


    ¡°How should we attack him then, Decurion?¡± Adna, a broad shouldered legionary with black hair and almond-shaped eyes asked. ¡°You also said the centurion¡¯s sword didn¡¯t hurt him.¡±


    Askar cleared his throat.


    ¡°We will see,¡± he said, unable to think of an answer.


    ¡°Everything has a weakness,¡± Elkas muttered. ¡°In most beasts, the eyes are vulnerable. If we see it, archers, aim for the eyes. Then we shall attack the legs.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± the company responded, the soldiers all making eye contact with each other.


    Soon the landscape changed. The footprints sunk ever deeper, through a forest of broken trunks, as if an eleven foot lumberjack had been sloppily felling. The forest was covered with fallen branches and trunks that blocked their path, which they had to jump over.


    Then they came to a point where both feet of the titan stood together, and from there onward, they did not find another footprint. Looking up, Askar noticed the branches had also been broken, as if pushed from below.


    ¡°He¡¯s not here any more,¡± Elkas said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Karvatis, another Gadalian soldier, asked him.


    ¡°He flew away.¡±


    ¡°Flew?¡± One of the soldiers chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Or he jumped up, rather,¡± Elkas clarified.


    ¡°What¡¯s in that direction?¡± Karvatis asked.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s just the north,¡± Askar said. ¡°Suevian peoples, that¡¯s what¡¯s up there. Barbarians like us, but not in league with the Empire.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯ll keep going,¡± Elkas stated. ¡°Until we find the fecking beast and kill it.¡±


    Askar thought Elkas was too invested in chasing the creature.


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    ¡°But it¡¯s Suevian land!¡± Another soldier protested. ¡°It¡¯s only ten of us, they will kill us if they see us marching into their territory.¡±


    ¡°We will kill them,¡± Adna corrected him.


    ¡°They will surely try to ambush us, Decurion,¡± Karvatis said.


    ¡°I will raise the banner of peace, and you all, stay alert. If anyone wants to go back, you are free to do so,¡± Elkas declared.


    ¡°I am going back; they heard a voice behind.¡± It was old Jovius, a half Itruschian born in the capital to an Adachian mother.


    ¡°Me too,¡± said two other legionaries.


    ¡°Are you people serious?¡± Elkas said.


    ¡°If your monster doesn¡¯t kill us, the barbarians will,¡± Jovius responded. ¡°Besides, we are not under the orders of any centurion. What if the command finds out? They¡¯ll hang us.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m in charge,¡± Elkas said. ¡°We are showing bravery, Jovius, that¡¯s what they teach us in the training.¡±


    ¡°This is a bad idea,¡± said another.


    ¡°If you want to get killed, go for it,¡± Jovius said.


    Askar felt tempted to go back. That world was inhospitable and cruel. He did not know what to expect, but Elkas was one of his best friends.


    ¡°One thing is to be brave and another is to jump into the enemy¡¯s territory,¡± Jovius said. ¡°That has a name, and it¡¯s being stupid.¡±


    ¡°Are you afraid of barbarians? We are of Gadalian stock, much better fighters than any regular legionary,¡± Elkas said proudly.


    ¡°We¡¯re going back,¡± the three soldiers behind them said. They turned around and disappear into the foliage from whence they had come from.


    Elkas growled. ¡°How about you seven? Are you willing to continue?¡±


    Adna held on to his spear, breathing deep.


    Elkas also looked at him.


    ¡°You all have things to lose¡ªfamilies, wives, and children¡ªbut we have to solve this mystery before anything happens. Adna, I trust in your bow. This beast will go down by us.¡±


    They walked through the woods, avoiding the deep swamps and dark bushes. As they advanced, they saw small wooden houses with hay roofs, built next to the banks, its terrified inhabitants lowering the voices as they passed by. But they were not as terrified as Askar. Curiosity pressed in him, to see that strange creature, hopefully, from a distance. Engaging in battle seemed like a suicide. The image of the Centurion¡¯s body being crushed like a beetle echoed in his mind every time the word creature, or giant was muttered.


    What chance did they stand against it, even with Elkas¡¯ idea?


    He only thought of his wife Gitara, and the child that was probably already born. He had a child, he had to press on and see him or her. He wondered what it may look like, and felt warmth in his heart. Was he being foolish? Wouldn¡¯t it be better to turn back?


    As they marched on, Askar heard whispers around him, along with whistles too regular to belong to springtime birds. They all knew what it was.


    Elkas lifted his sword, and the legionaries assembled, their shields pressed together, their knees bent, their spears pressing out, not letting anything in.


    ¡°We come in peace,¡± Elkas lifted his sword from the centre of the circle. And then they saw them through their shields: barbarians with long yellow hair, braided beards, and clothes made of animal hides. One of them, probably their chieftain, wore a horned helmet of bronze. His shield was round and held a long spear with runic inscriptions on his right.


    ¡°Stop!¡± the chieftain said to their men. He looked at the legionaries, who did not move out of their formation. ¡°You are our enemies,¡± he said. ¡°And have come into our territory, not invited, not expected. Now tell us why we should let you out and not kill you.¡±


    ¡°We come not to fight!¡± Elkas exclaimed. ¡°We have seen a monster spring from the earth and kill our commander.¡±


    They heard laughter around them. But one of them silenced them in his own language. Then, they started to argue. The legionaries looked at each other from within the formation. What was about to happen?


    ¡°Our friend here believes you,¡± the chieftain said.


    ¡°He does?¡± Elkas said. ¡°Let us pass; we are just looking for the beast. We wish to slay it. And you may come with us, we can establish a truce. I am in charge now that my commander has died.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± the chieftain said.


    Elkas looked at his companions and told them to lower their arms. They complied.


    ¡°But we will escort you to the village,¡± the soldier said.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Elkas muttered. Askar looked around as the barbarian sentinels sprung out, some descending from the trees, others emerging from the foliage. He counted twelve of them.


    ¡°So,¡± the chieftain said. ¡°Come out and speak like a man.¡±


    Elkas ordered them to disband, and Askar cursed in his mind. It was a bad idea. The formation dissolved, and Elkas stood in the middle. The chieftain walked on, and looked Elkas in the eye. ¡°What is troubling about this giant?¡±


    ¡°I know not what it may do, but it possesses great strength,¡± Elkas said. ¡°I have seen it, and my comrade here saw it.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± the chieftain grinned. ¡°Let us meet the giant,¡± he said with a grin. Askar narrowed his eyes, there was something off about those men. He did not know much about those tribes, but he knew many of them hated the Empire. And for good reasons. They, as foreign legionaries did not care much about that. They only did their job and defended remote posts, but wearing that armour and uniform marked them all in the same way.


    They started to march once again, up into the ever deep forest.


    Then, out of nowhere, Askar heard a buzzing sound, he turned in fright as a blade quickly approached his head. He tried to dodge, lifting his shield and spear, but he felt a dull pain on the side of his head, and the sound around him faded.

 Chapter VIII - The Omen

    A movable den-like cage, wide as a yurt, had been prepared for Arctus, the bear cub, with padded pillows and hay for him to spend the night. Tor took care of him, feeding him fish and berries, and erected a wide canopy over him so that he could spend the night, like a circus carp. The hungry children of the tribe gathered around him, glancing curiously at the cub. Arctus stepped back nervously on  furry paws.


    ¡°Hey, children.¡± Alana approached them from behind, crossing her arms. ¡°Leave him alone, he¡¯s not used to strangers.¡±


    The children looked up at her and then returned their gaze to the cub.


    ¡°Come on, I¡¯m not joking,¡± she said, clapping her hands. Tor had gotten up from the other side, but as he was the same size as most kids, and could not talk, he was ignored by the children.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious, kids, get out or I¡¯ll call your parents.¡±


    ¡°Children,¡± Kassius¡¯ voice called from behind them. He leaned in, taller than any head in the yurt, his green eyes glittering with peace of mind. ¡°Go talk to your parents, there¡¯s something wonderful that we will show them tomorrow. Something amazing.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± asked a black haired girl.


    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise,¡± he said, faking a smile.


    ¡°Hey!¡± A pale kid with piercing blue eyes looked up at him. ¡°Father said you are the children of traitors.¡±


    The comment made Alana blink in surprise, and anger surged like a cauldron beginning to boil. Alana stepped forward.


    ¡°Hey, you, kid. What are you saying?¡± She faced the boy.


    He looked puny, ignorant.


    She could not really blame him, but what he had said deserved a lesson. ¡°Tell your father that tomorrow we will see who¡¯s the traitor, and who really loves our people.¡±


    ¡°Alana.¡± Kassius looked down at her, with a frown. ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s just a kid.¡±


    ¡°Go tell him! Tomorrow we will see who the traitors are. I hope that if he talks the talk, he can walk the walk. Now get out, leave us alone.¡± She clapped her hands, and the kids went away, sighing and chatting about how the bear was smaller than they thought, and looked incapable of doing anything.


    Alana clenched her teeth, and looked up at Kassius.


    ¡°Where were you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°With the Priest of Mercury. He told me everything.¡±


    She sighed. ¡°So much for privacy,¡± Alana muttered.


    ¡°The priest doesn¡¯t know what you were talking about,¡± he said, looking back at her. She walked to the entrance of the carp and shut the curtains, then she looked at Tor, who was awkwardly walking out.


    ¡°Tor, you can stay if you want,¡± she said.


    He shook his head and went right for the door and disappeared through the curtains.


    ¡°And there he went,¡± Alana muttered.


    ¡°Is he still upset?¡± Kassius asked.


    She sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s hard to tell.¡±


    ¡°And have you seen the slaves, by any chance?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re around there, they offered to help somebody, but they¡¯re not with us.¡±


    ¡°I see. Just asking.¡± He sighed. ¡°You look troubled.¡± Alana noticed the tension in his green eyes and mouth, as his lips curled down.


    She looked up into his deep eyes.


    ¡°What can I tell you that you don¡¯t know? He didn¡¯t want to help,¡± she said. ¡°He said that his people are too weak, too few, that they are not enough to form a real army.¡±


    Kassius turned his head away and clenched his teeth.


    ¡°What¡¯s your plan for tomorrow?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I thought you were the one with the plan.¡±


    Kassius cleared his throat, he lowered his gaze.


    ¡°It depends. Have you thought of anything?¡±


    ¡°I mean.¡± Alana cleared her throat. ¡°Maybe we can get Kassara to give a speech and talk about the sword. Maybe, if they¡¯re like we were and trust in the gods.¡±


    Kassius sighed. ¡°I talked to the priest,¡± he said. ¡°He says they have forgotten the gods. People are angry. They are dying. The children you just saw lost their fathers and mothers as well, their grandparents. They lost their little brothers, they are now used to death, but curse their life with them. The priest told me they could find no deliverance.¡±


    ¡°Well, then what? Have you seen the future? Has he seen anything?¡±


    Kassius lowered his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. He mentioned the giants, though.¡±


    ¡°What did he see?¡±


    ¡°He saw something walking through the land, towering over the houses like an army catapult, its bones sticking out of its back, grey like cast iron, and around him, all the world was on fire.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t help,¡± Alana said, shaking her head. ¡°Anyway, we must do it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never been only about doing Alana. You like to plan.¡±


    ¡°Well, how has my life been up to this point? All has been based on hope and luck, or protection by fate. Look at him,¡± She pointed at the bear cub. ¡°Look at that beautiful creature. Just look at him,¡± she said with a giggle. She walked to the edge of the carp and extracted a piece of fish that was wrapped on a hemp bag, below the stakes. Half a dozen buzzing flies circled over it. It was, however, still wet and slippery.


    ¡°Imagine if his mother wouldn¡¯t have been there at that time, at the exact time and place.¡±


    ¡°Of course, it was a bear Goddess,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Yes, like you said,¡± she whispered, opening the small door. ¡°It was our protector, our guide.¡±


    ¡°What are you saying?¡±


    ¡°That as long as this bear lives, and we protect it, there will be hope.¡±


    Alana stepped into the cage and called the bear out with her hand, she knelt over the mounds of clay, holding the fish.


    ¡°Arctus,¡± she said. ¡°Come here, little boy.¡±


    The bear advanced slowly. He was still smaller than Alana when on her knees, with bright black eyes that sparkled like onyx, his strong chestnut fur was shiny, with fluffy ears and a wet snout. It snatched the fish in its mouth, and it immediately bled. The bear swallowed it, and remained closed to her, Alana wrapped her arms around it, and it responded by imitating her, encircling her with his black paws and furry warm arms. She petted its head, as though it was a dog. ¡°Good boy,¡± she said. ¡°How I miss your dog, Arcturus; he was also a good boy.¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t remind me of that,¡± Kassius muttered. ¡°So? We will show them the sword. Is that it?¡± Kassius approached, lowering his head.


    ¡°I told them it is the sign to prove this is righteous.¡±


    ¡°By sign do you mean the sword?¡±


    Alana nodded.


    Kassius scratched his messy hair.


    ¡°I fear they may not believe us. Then what?¡±


    ¡°Then, we wait, we go somewhere else, we look for our army.¡±


    ¡°What if there¡¯s no army? What if we have to fight all alone?¡±


    ¡°Someone in the world will help us.¡± She started playing fetch with the bear, throwing an orange sized stone to the edge of the cage. The bear went back and forth with the stone between its teeth. ¡°Kassius, I hate to remind you about this, but we forged the sword, we thought it was not possible, but we found it. It¡¯s not the same sword, right, but it was built in the same way. And you even received the thunderbolt of Venus. You saw it in a dream and found it. There¡¯s our proof. We can keep doing it. It doesn¡¯t matter if we get only one person to this cause in this village, we go to another one, we find one, and another one. I am determined not to give up.¡±


    She got up.


    ¡°He¡¯s not as energetic as before,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m gonna see if they have some honey for him.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Kassius blocked her way. ¡°Listen, I am determined too . . . but¡ª¡±


    Alana threw herself into his arms, her forehead against his collarbone. His long fingers caressed her hair.


    She lifted her head up, he was smiling, but his eyes were far away. She straightened her body and kissed him lightly on the lips.


    He looked straight at her, his arms wrapped around her hips, and they kissed again, and the world seemed to fade around them.


    ***


    The evening came, and there was barely any food. They ate better at the barracks. At the camp they only had berries and skinny river fish, and the driest slice of horse sausage she¡¯d ever tried. And they didn¡¯t even offer her yogurt or milk.


    ¡°Be careful when eating their food,¡± Kassius had said.


    Alana raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I have a feeling the food may be contaminated.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? Has anyone poisoned it?¡±


    ¡°Everybody¡¯s sick. Maybe it¡¯s the food or the water. I don¡¯t mean poison, but sickness.¡±


    Irema¡¯s voice was heard behind them.


    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    Kassius sighed, as if it was too hard to explain.


    ¡°I¡¯ve read that this is common during wars. All the soldiers get sick and die. There¡¯s something that gets passed on, through their hands or water, like an essence. Especially if there are rats and ticks around.¡±


    ¡°That is strange, but it makes sense,¡± Irema muttered.


    Alana eyed Irema in the corner.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Not good.¡±


    Irema sighed.


    ¡°People are nice here, but, it¡¯s as if they have nothing to live for.¡±


    The sun rose the next morning, illuminating the fields and a gathering crowd. The main council of leaders stood in the front, including chieftain Varalkas, the priest of Jupiter and a group of tall, older men and women with scars in their faces and arms. Veterans of the Dragon War.


    Behind them, the mass of villagers slowly gathered with their sickly children in arms, they murmured about who these men and women were. Alana heard the word traitors from time to time, some talked pitifully about what the Empire had done to them.


    Alana and Kassius stood in the centre of a gathering circle. A tall stone menhir towered above them, its upper portion carved like a man¡¯s face.


    Kassius stepped forward, right beneath the menhir¡¯s shadow, with the Sword of Ares wrapped in fur from the wolves they had slain in the winter. Raxana was close to them, her eyes fixed on the women who had fought by her side in the previous decade.


    When they were all gathered, Varalkas stood up in front of the circle, raising his arms and silencing the multitude. His expression was stern, and an old cuirass covered his broad body.


    ¡°Men and women of our tribe, loyal sounds and daughters of Gadal.¡± His voice was commanding, different from the distanced bellow Alana heard in his yurt. ¡°Fifteen years ago, we split from our brothers and sisters. They did so in the name of peace, and you followed us. Please listen with an open soul.¡±


    Alana stared. He was not calling for treason as some men and women had. She scanned through the multitude, some sturdy men and women murmured amongst themselves. Then, she caught someone staring unflinchingly at her, a woman of about thirty five years, standing among the council members in the front. Her hair was long, black, and unruly. Her pale face was sprinkled with freckles and her eyes were blue and piercing. A long scar could be partly seen crossing her collarbone, fading into her purple hemp dress.


    She winked an eye at Alana and she immediately looked away.


    Suddenly, she heard Kassius¡¯ voice in her ear. ¡°Ready?¡±


    Alana nodded.


    She cleared her throat. ¡°Fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters of my blood. I am Alana of Adachia, daughter of General Ileria, the Hero of Tuschania, and of Alan, the Master Craftsman.¡±


    She heard the word traitor, and she felt an urge to respond. No, that was not the way, she had to prove it with her actions.


    ¡°To the ones who knew my father, no matter what opinion you had of him. Let me tell you, he died fighting against her true enemy, the Unholy Itruschian Empire. For years, as many other men and women who fought by your side, we trusted them blindly, we trusted their peace. But now, we have seen their true colours. Many rumours have reached you, of that I am certain.¡±


    ¡°They got what they deserved,¡± a voice said from the back of the crowd.


    She clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. ¡°And do you deserve to lose your children to disease? We, in this world, are subject to pain. The women who ride with me were chained to a wall for days, and yet, we broke free. Do you know why? Because the gods in the sky rejoice in struggle, they bless the few who stand against many. The ones who fall, wounded and hurt, and rise to battle, no matter what the cost is. And now, our sisters are being enslaved, their lands taken, their families torn apart in the bloodiest way, the innocence of your nieces and grand daughters. Taken and sold. Your sons massacred. Many of you say you are not strong enough. Are we? Ten women and two men? We have killed their governor, the gods are on our side. And we will finally achieve the dream of our old Chieftain, driving back our oppressors and making our people free forever.¡±


    Alana focused on the multitude and noticed people nodding, some shaking their heads, some families arguing, men talking to their wives passionately, one of them pointing at the sick child in her arms.


    Alana raised her hands. ¡°And in these hours where my husband and I were in the forest, a vision came to him. We were instructed to rebuild the Sword of Ares. The God of War guided my husband to a cave in the bowels of the earth, where he found the gem of legends. The Thunderbolt of Venus. With that sign and this magical sword, we have been promised victory!¡±


    ¡°Hail Chieftain Alana!¡± Raxana, Kassara, and the other members of her tribe raised their right fists in the air and fell to their knees.


    Kassius presented the wrapped blade to her, and she untied it, dropping the furs on the grass and lifting the sword with one hand.


    ¡°All I ask of you is to join me and my beloved friends in liberating our people! Who is with me?¡± she asked, lifting her arm again. She counted the fists that responded¡ªabout a dozen. Not enough to raise an army.


    ¡°Aye!¡± a few sparse voices said.


    ¡°Let us see that sword, daughter of Alan!¡± One of the council members, a fat man with piercing green eyes and a green coat raised his hand. ¡°Is that really the Sword of Ares?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it has been forged again, according to the sacred texts.¡±


    The council member whispered in the ear of another fellow, a thick man with a wide moustache and dark brown hair, flowing down to his shoulders. The man stepped forward. A leather apron covered his body, marking him as a blacksmith.


    ¡°Hand it to me, let me take a look at the sword you speak of.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, handing it over to him.


    The man grasped the handle, examined the crosshead, then whirled the sword with his wrist.


    ¡°This sword was made by a beginner. Steel, sturdy blade but clumsy execution. This sword is not older than five years.¡±


    The murmuring started again, Alana and Kassius looked at each other.


    ¡°I do not deny we forged it, but we did so with instructions from the gods, and the jewel, the jewel was found by Kassius through his meditations. It was given in visions.¡±


    ¡°An emerald. What¡¯s special about it?¡± the blacksmith asked, handing it back with one hand. ¡°Take your cheap sword back.¡±


    §´he murmuring started again. The crowd shook their heads and commented with each other. She heard words of disappointment, she heard people calling them swindles and liars, being repeated. One by one, the crowd turned their backs on her.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Alana yelled ¡°It¡¯s all true!¡±


    ¡°Listen to her!¡± Kassius screamed behind the crowd. The council also disbanded, and shortly after, there were only a few people left, including the woman with black hair who had winked at Alana.


    Alana looked around, Varalkas was glaring at her, his arms crossed.


    ¡°That was very low. A fake?¡± he snapped. ¡°We thought the vice of swindling had not come to Gadalians.¡±


    ¡°No! It¡¯s not what you think!¡±


    ¡°We know you people are desperate, but this.¡± He shook his head, with a disgusted frown on his brow.

 Chapter IX - The Fallen

    Askar felt a throbbing pain in the side of his head and warm fluid soak his neck as he sprang up from his defense, grasping his spear. He thrust it at a blond barbarian.


    From the corner of his eye, he saw the Suevians lunging at his comrades with their weapons of war.


    Next to him, Elkas drew his sword and swung at their opponents. An enemy spear went for his side, and he dodged with a movement of the hips. He twisted his body and waved the sword at his attacker. The barbarian parried with the pole of his spear.


    The pain on Askar''s side became numbing. He growled and clenched his fists. He felt it with his fingertips. It had brushed his skin and cut through it. But it was not too deep, and it had not touched any vital points.


    His instincts kicked in, and he blocked a sword with his shield, then countered with his spear. It penetrated his enemy''s stomach. He kept pressing forward, impaling him.


    Another barbarian attacked him. He pulled the spear back while he blocked with his shield. The enemy lunged forward, the bronze tip of his spear menacing to pierce his ribs, but Askar aimed higher. He stepped to the right and pushed his way into the soldier''s neck.


    Next to him, Adna had killed two barbarians with his lance. He had wounded two others. Their other comrades had incapacitated the rest, and now there were only two barbarians standing. The legionaries advanced with their spears and shields forward, surrounding them. The barbarians dropped their axes and spears, and fear sparkled in their eyes.


    "Askar!" Elkas approached him as Askar kept his hand on his neck. In the heat of the battle, he had swallowed the pain that was becoming unbearable. "You''re wounded, brother!"


    Askar kept covering his ear, feeling warm blood drenching from it.


    "It''s just a flesh wound," he answered.


    "Put something around it!" Elkas shouted. "It''s not deep, but I''ve seen lighter ones get infected. You, Ignatius!" He called the one who was carrying the healer''s bag. "Come over here and cover his wounds. And iron it first."


    "Aye, Decurion!" Ignatius responded.


    The two barbarians remained with their gazes low. But Askar could perceive the hatred in their eyes as Ignatius wrapped a long gauze around his neck.


    "You scum!" Elkas exclaimed, pushing one of the barbarians. The man fell on his buttocks and remained there, with fear in his eyes. "You have no honor, I should execute you both. Now you will be taken to our camp and . . ."


    "I am sorry!" one of them cried, raising his face, in a coarse accent. "I really did not want them to do it, but they did not believe me."


    "Now beat your friends when it comes to cowardice!" Elkas said, walking toward the man, bending his back, and breathing in his face. Elkas unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the man''s neck.But please... No! Don''t kill me," the man clamored, joining his hands to beg. "I have a wife and child. I know about the giant; I saw him, I saw him!"


    "What about the giant?" he asked.


    "I was at the village when it happened. It leaped through the air, from the forest, and fell next to the village. Then, he jumped again, we saw him when we were tilting our land, we..."


    "I''ll see if you''re telling the truth. Tell me, what did he look like?" Elkas asked him, keeping the sword against his neck.


    "He... Like the color of limestone, its bones could be seen. Then we went to see where he had been, and there was a big hole."


    "Where is that village?" Elkas asked.


    "North!"


    "Good! This is what we''re going to do!" Elkas sheathed his sword and gave the man a cold glance. "We''re coming back, in peace, so you better not do anything. We will come with fifty men. No harm to you and your people if you let us be."


    ***


    Convincing the rest of the headless legion was not easy, but they did it. Elkas gathered at least twenty-five soldiers and they marched into the forest that very day, when the sun rose to its zenith, and they advanced, following the two Suevian men whom they had spared.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The village was beyond the forest, guarded by a wooden wall that rose sixteen feet high. Right behind it, there were ditches guarded by wooden spikes. A wooden bridge led into the main gate. Askar saw the Suevian men, who wore capes of blue, bare-chested, their loins covered with skirts, and their hair and beards long and untrimmed, with a small bun of hair bound on the side of their foreheads. Some of them, the wealthiest ones, wore ornaments of gold and silver. The women wore long clear skirts, colorful blouses, and brooches of silver that hung around their bosoms. The inhabitants glared at them, like pestilent bugs disturbing their health, murmuring curses and spells in their harsh tongue.


    "This way!" The man guided Elkas and the rest of the legion up the hill, into a moor covered in heather. There, they found a hole in the ground, similar to the one where the Giant had landed, next to the wall.


    "This is what you''ve brought us for?" one of the soldiers who had joined the company asked. "We saw the same ones right next to the walls."


    "We can follow him," Elkas responded. "We have to walk the same distance and find him."


    "This is a waste of time," the soldier continued.


    "You already came with me, now let''s get rid of that creature for good. He killed our centurion. It''s only a creature, we surely can deal with it."


    "This is a joke." The soldier shook his head and turned around, giving his back to Elkas.


    "Let us press forward into the woods once again, northward," Elkas calmly said. "We have covered quite a distance in only a few hours."


    "Let''s go," Adna said.


    "For now, men, do what you will," Elkas said to the group. "I am going up, you may follow me or remain where you''re at."Proofread lightly:


    "Listen," Karvatis, the one with deep black hair and blue eyes, said. "If we''re out too close to sunset, we''ll come back. We have a post to guard."


    "That''s fine," Elkas said. "We shouldn''t take that long. It''s barely morning."


    They descended from the moor and passed by the wooden walls and the ditch, full of wooden poles and spikes. As they crossed, they encountered old women who threw turnips and onions at them.


    "Killer!" they heard from their toothless mouths. And so, they had indeed killed that very week, but they did not change who they were, nor their intentions.


    When they crossed over to the other side, where the northern wall of the village was protected by a creek, they saw a rider approach in haste. Even from such a distance, Askar noticed his unnaturally pale face, as if sick or terrified, contrasting with his dark brown hair and the Suevian knot on his forehead. He wore a simple tunic and a golden necklace with the sign of a hammer. The man stopped abruptly next to the guards, just as Askar was passing by.


    "Hitaria! Hitaria is no more!"


    "What are you saying?" their guide asked.


    "It has been destroyed!" the rider shouted.


    "Destroyed, by whom?"


    "We know not, but it was monstrous, it was vile... We must gather our troops and march!"


    Elkas seemed to take notice of what was being said. He turned around and strode toward the guards.


    "What happened?"


    The messenger pulled the reins, and his horse stood on two legs, delivering an angry neigh.


    "What is this imperial soldier doing here?" he asked with a frown and spat on the ground.


    "We mean no ill," Elkas clarified, looking straight into the messenger''s blue eyes. "We are looking for a monster that was seen yesterday. It leapt up into the air, moving northward."


    "What monster is he talking about?" the messenger asked the guides, not addressing him directly.


    "I saw him too," one of the guides stated. "It was taller than the evergreens, maybe as tall as a mountain. Its flesh was like rocks carved into a menhir with a monstrous face."


    The messenger scratched his chin. He stood silent, hesitating.


    "You, foreigners, go north, if you wish, but you will not like what you will find up there. Search for your monster, and know that you shall not come back. Nothing was left standing. Men, women, and children were stomped without mercy, their limbs torn and crushed like insects under boots," the messenger declared. His voice broke, his expression was wry, and a shade of agony distilled from his eyes. "If you go up, if you encounter it, you shall die."


    The legionaries looked at each other.


    "Elkas," Askar muttered. "He is right. We may not return."


    Elkas took a deep breath. "But you all say the creature came here. We saw its footprint. But why, then, did it not touch this village? Was there any survivor?" he asked, ignoring Askar.


    "There were," the messenger stated. "A few men, wounded, but their words were screams of madmen, consumed by fear.""Let''s go," Elkas said, glancing at his group.


    "Are you mad, Elkas?" Adna stood in front of Decurion. He put his hand on his chest, like any good friend would. "Listen to them. Did you hear Elkas? He killed the Centurion like he was an ant. I don''t believe our arrows can hurt him. Nothing can!"


    "Let''s take a look. Let us see what he did, and maybe from there, we may find their weakness."


    "I am sorry," Adna said. "But Elkas, you are taking this wish of yours to earn the phalera too far. You can still be brave and demonstrate valor, you can earn your damn medal without being suicidal. Did you hear the man? One beast against a village, and only the wounded remained. Maybe damned souls who barely survived. I guess those were not just peasants; they must have had sentinels, guardians, soldiers!"


    "I am not saying to engage, Adna. Listen, any report from our side would be useful."


    Another soldier cleared his throat.


    "This is suicide."


    "Once again, if you wish to leave me, you may. I would go alone, for all I care."


    Askar considered leaving anyway. If they were to encounter the creature, they were dead. He did not want to die, no matter what. He had a loving wife and a child soon to come.


    Elkas looked at the messenger. "Are you delivering your message to the mayor of this town? If you do so, please tell them we wish to venture north. If anyone wishes to explore with us, we shall respect and protect them."


    After an hour, although some left the company, Adna, Askar, and most of the group agreed to keep going. A group of Suevian warriors decided to join them and see what had been done to their relatives. It was, in the end, forty-five men: twenty-three Gadalian and twenty-two Suevian, who marched up through the forest that day, armed to the teeth, searching for a giant.

 Chapter X - Sisterhood

    "Alana, now what?" Irema said, tears flowing down her reddened face. Her green eyes twitched. "My mother is still in the village. How can I rejoin her now? What can we do? You''ve led us this far, away from her and all the ones we love. Now what?"


    Alana shook her head, holding Irema''s hand. But she pulled her hand away and turned her face to the side, wiping her nose with her palm.


    "Irema," Alana murmured, leaning in. "We''ve been through much worse. You can''t let this defeat you. I am doing everything I can, believe me, there''s nothing more important in this world for me. Just be patient, we will find a way to get back and free them."


    Irema panted. "I have lost everything," she said, wiping her eyes. "Now, the only thing that''s left is my hope of seeing my mother again. Don''t take that away from me."


    Alana sighed. "Irema, you know me, you know my only concern here is for us to reach our goal. To see our loved ones again and retake our land. It''s not my fault that they don''t want to help us, but we''ll find a way."


    "But how long? How?"


    "Irema. Are you losing your faith in me?"


    "I just want to know."


    "I wish I knew, just give me some time."


    Irema looked down. "I will go back myself, it doesn''t matter if they kill me," Irema said, wiping her tears for one last time.


    "Just trust me, Irema," Alana said, extending her hand, but her best friend turned away and walked out of the tent.


    The curtain opened, Raxana walked through, wearing a long tunic and trousers, but Alana''s mind remained fixed on her friend. That hurt. Seeing Irema like that felt like a boulder hanging from her neck. And it was all up to her.


    She was confident that there was a way to fight and win, but it was damn hard to know how. Maybe gather the few who did want to help her and ride with them, even if they were five or six.


    "Alana, someone wants to see you," said Raxana.


    Alana clenched her teeth, thinking again that a villager would scold her or call her father a traitor. She was fed up with that. They didn''t know anything about him. How could they decide if he was a traitor or not? She wished she could prove the entire world wrong. They didn''t understand. They had not gone through what she had, and not even she could decide whether she could judge her father. All she knew was that he died with a sword in hand.


    Alana rolled her eyes, but nodded at Raxana and followed her out. The sky was purple, the sun setting in the plains, becoming smaller and orange like an egg yolk. Venus could already be seen on top, and below, among the yurts, Alana recognized the black-haired woman who had smiled at her. She was wearing a purple coat, dotted, with fur trimmings at the edges, and hemp trousers with vertical beads on each side.


    Alana lowered her head.


    "Alana? Alana, daughter of Alan?" the woman asked, with wide blue eyes and a silly smile.


    "At your service, ma''am."The woman chuckled, her freckled cheeks revealing small dimples. "It couldn''t have been more obvious. Would you come visit me at my home?"


    "Your home?" Alana raised an eyebrow and glanced at Raxana, who stood with her arms crossed and a suspicious smile on her face.


    Alana cleared her throat. "I am afraid I don''t know you. Who are you?"


    "My name is Ira," she said, widening her smile even further.


    "Ira?" Alana narrowed her eyes and shook her head.


    "I knew your parents," she announced with a slight nod.


    "Ah, good."


    "So, please."


    "Thank you," Alana said, eyeing Raxana, who nodded at her.


    Ira and Alana wandered through the camp. Ira bobbed her upper body a bit as she walked, and her legs were arched, like those of an experienced rider.


    Ira lived in a wide yurt surrounded by a movable fence. A white horse pastured freely behind the wooden beams, and a long rope hung from one side of the fence to the yurt, where half a dozen hemp jackets and trousers hung to dry.


    "Come on in," she said with a smile, opening the fence. "It''s simple, not like the houses your people built, but it''s home."


    "It''s wonderful," Alana said, following her.


    "I''d like to introduce you to my friend Tistriya," Ira said, prancing through the yard, and the white horse reacted immediately upon hearing his name, approaching her with its ears forward.


    "Hello, boy." Ira presented her hand. Alana caught a glimpse of a small cube in her palm, perhaps hardened honey or some kind of candy. The horse licked it off her hand. Ira then petted his forehead with one hand. "He used to be the fastest, now he''s a bit out of shape."


    "The fastest? I guess you were in the war."


    "I was, but I was not a soldier. I was a messenger. Chieftain''s messenger."


    "Chieftain?" Alana asked, opening her eyes wide. "The great Skapasis?"


    Ira giggled.


    "Great? Is that how your father called him?"


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    "Eh, my father... My father did not talk much about him, but my uncle did."


    "And I wonder why..."


    "So you know him, and my mother?"


    "I did," she said, without removing her gaze from the horse. She petted him again.


    "What was my mother like?"


    Ira turned slowly toward her.


    "A great leader, a brave woman, and a cunning warrior."


    Alana smiled.


    "You look just like her," Ira continued. "Just your head is shaped like your father''s. You''re an exact mixture of both, in a way."


    "Okay, thank you, I guess."


    "So, come on in, I''ve got a lot to show you," Ira said, guiding Alana into the yurt. Alana heard an animal noise and peeked through the side before entering. She noticed two smaller horses and a goat behind the yurt.Ira''s yurt was neat and organized. Light entered through the wide curtains, and the air flowed through the entrance, freshening it. Layers of colorful carpeting covered the floor, except for the area around the iron chimney, which stood in the center, clean of any debris or coal. Alana noticed glass vases sealed with hemp. Some held milk or yogurt, while others contained serum and cheese. They were piled against the edge and shielded in a wooden box. More boxes and chests were piled on one side of the yurt, and a beautiful bow of bone and sinew hung from one end of the walls.


    "Take a seat," Ira said. Alana looked around but did not find a place to sit. "On the floor, silly," Ira muttered.


    "Oh, right," Alana said, pulling the skirt of her robe to sit.


    "Why are you dressed like that? Are you riding a horse around in those? You''re wearing rags!"


    "Oh, it''s fine, don''t worry about it," Alana said.


    "Give me a second." Ira turned her back to her and walked toward a wooden chest in the far corner. She opened it, revealing many folded robes and trousers. "Try this on." Ira pulled out a pair of red riding trousers, wiped them, and offered them folded to Alana.


    "This?" Alana asked, surprised, and received the gift solemnly. "Thank you, but I don''t think I need it."


    "Come on, it''s for you, try it on."


    "No, please, I''m okay."


    "How can you ride to battle like that?"


    Alana blinked and glanced at them again. They were of excellent quality. She felt shy about accepting such a gift at that time, but it would really come in handy.


    "Fine," Alana said, offering Ira a shy smile.


    "Please make yourself comfortable. I''m really glad to finally meet you, you''ve got no idea."


    "Finally?" Alana raised an eyebrow.


    Ira turned her back again and walked to the other side, where the glass vases were.


    "Wait!" she said. "This is a great moment. We''ve got to celebrate it."


    "So, you met my parents, right?" Alana said. She liked Ira. It had made her a bit uncomfortable with the sudden welcoming and kindness, but after running away and being called a traitor by half the town, it felt like heaven now.


    Ira came back with a tray, a woven basket lined with a hemp cloth, and an assortment of cheese inside, as well as two clay vases full of fresh mare''s milk on top. She carefully placed it on the floor.


    "Have some," Ira said with a big smile.


    "Thanks," Alana muttered. Cheese was a delicacy. She grabbed a big, soft piece of goat cheese and instantly felt refreshed by the salty, musky flavor.


    "Try the blue one," Ira said proudly. "Wait, swallow this one first. Yes, savor it."


    "Nice," Alana said, grabbing the vase next to her and swallowing a mouthful of milk. It was mare''s milk, a delicacy she missed from the village. "It''s only been three months, and this feels like coming back home after a long journey."


    "I''m glad you like it," Ira said. "Now, if you excuse me." She grabbed a piece of cheese and chewed on it slowly. She shut her eyes and inhaled. "It''s amazing, I love cheese so much," she said, with her mouth full, and small crumbs showing on her teeth.


    After there was no more cheese left.


    "Please don''t ask for more, yet," Ira said. "I may finish it."


    Alana sighed.


    "That was wonderful. Thank you."


    "Don''t thank me, I''m glad you enjoyed it. So, I was telling you. Fifteen years ago, we were so worried about your mother. She sent me with an urgent message. She had to talk to your father. We didn''t know why. I found him, then I rode with him the entire way from beyond the Danabius river to the White Mountains. He was dead worried about your mother, and it turns out she was expecting you and did not want our Chieftain to know."


    "Me?"


    "Yes! I was so happy to know. Of course, we lost your mother. That was sad, but you were his only joy in the world."


    "I see," Alana said, lowering her face. She wished with all her heart to know her mother.


    "I''m sorry about what happened to your father. And your mother too. I wish I could help you in any way."


    "Well, you''re helping, but . . . It''s . . ."


    Alana had to tell her what she felt. Maybe she wouldn''t believe her, but if only she could help her.


    "You heard me up there, the only thing I need now is an army. Many have died, and the people you know and love. We must liberate them."


    Ira took a slow, deep breath. For an instant, Alana thought she would make the situation uncomfortable. She got ready to get scolded again.


    "I see," Ira muttered, not moving her blue eyes away from her.


    What did that reaction mean? Was she just being polite? Alana went for it.


    "Miss Ira, I need to raise an army. I do not know where I can get it, but I would do anything to find it."


    "That''s all? Well . . . Listen, I am a member of the Tribal Council. Let me be honest. Varalkas doesn''t want to help. Actually, not a single one of the leaders wants to. And there''s a reason why. The plague, you know. And there''s another reason, but don''t tell anyone."


    "What?"


    "The pest started two months ago, after a single event." Ira took a deep breath. "Varalkas told the council not to let anyone know. He said he himself wasn''t sure."


    "But what caused it?"


    "It started when an Itruschian delegation brought a charity offer, bringing biscuits and blankets."


    Alana raised an eyebrow.


    "So, was the food poisoned with plague?"


    "Either the food or the blankets. The people started finding lice in it. It is known that winter lice causes terrible illnesses. Anyway, Varalkas wanted to suppress this idea. He said he was protecting our people."


    "So, they did . . . What? They wanted to wipe this camp off?"


    "And they''re doing it well. Cases have receded, but it''s still going on. And lice passes from people to people. Old people have dealt with this in war and found ways to reduce it."


    "What can we do?"


    "The damage is done. We must take care of our people, making sure they wash and boil the robes where they sleep. But it''s hard to change old habits."


    Ira stood up.


    "Anyway, they won''t help you, but I have another proposal for you."

 Chapter XI - The Initiate

    Kassius entered a small hut, permeated with the smell of burning seeds. In the center, he saw a hot cauldron beneath a high pole of gold. The priest of Jupiter was seated cross-legged, wearing a red robe and fur boots. On his head, he wore a pointed hat of gold adorned with phases of the sun and moon forged across its shaft. The golden hat, nearly a meter and a half in length, was supported by a wooden structure behind his head. Kassius wondered about its weight.


    "High priest!" Kassius said, falling to both knees. "I am Kassius Filyusdpitar Gadlicus, grandson of Aranus of Kashfrud."


    "The grandson of Aranus?" the priest said. "Yes, the priest of Mercury told me about you." He took a slow, controlled breath and looked into Kassius'' eyes. His eyes were red from the holy vapors, and his hands were clasped in a magical sign. "Sit before me, young man. Why have you come? Is there something you wish to ask the Gods?"


    "Elder, I have come here seeking your counsel and begging for initiation. I have studied the texts of the ancient men and women of Tharcia, as you know from my wife . . ." He lowered his head slightly, unsure if the priest would believe him. "I have had some experiences with them."


    "I see . . . Young man." The priest extended his hand, revealing a tattoo of an eye in his palm, surrounded by a circle and magical angles. Kassius nodded and placed his palm on top of it.


    The priest closed his hand, firmly grasping Kassius'' hand, and shut his reddened eyes.


    "I can see . . ."


    He quickly opened his eyes. Kassius widened his eyes, awaiting the answer.


    "The gods are using you, child."


    "I am aware of that," Kassius said, bowing his head in humility.


    "I know about the sword."


    "Sir." Kassius couldn''t help but raise his head and express his thoughts. "If you know it is true, you must inform them! You must."


    "And yet, they would not believe."


    "So?" Kassius blinked in disbelief. That seemed like a cowardly notion.


    "I understand your thinking. I would think the same, but they will soon realize."


    "Well, let them prepare! If they join us now, we can attack the Empire and . . ."


    "It is not wise yet. Trust my words, they will eventually believe, perhaps too late, but they will."


    "So you have foreseen the future. Elder, please, I need to learn from you. I have a deep longing in my soul to understand what we are up against, how to confront it. I want to see the things that will come to pass and know the events that have led my wife, my people, and me to this very moment."


    "The crossroads of time." The priest inhaled deeply. "You must understand that the Empire is not the greatest threat, don''t you?"


    Kassius'' hands tightened into fists. The Elder knew about them. Did he know that Kassius and Alana had awakened them?


    "Have you seen . . ."


    "Yes . . . The ones who lay beneath the earth. The ones who have risen again."


    Suddenly, Kassius felt as if he were naked and guilty. He lowered his eyes and felt an urge to excuse himself. He had not intended to do that, and since they had disappeared without leaving more trace than those huge footprints, he had stopped worrying.


    "It was meant to be, boy."


    "Elder, we did not know..."


    "It had to be that way. They had awaited until their enemy would rise."


    "Enemy? Are we that enemy? But Ares... The ancient god, he was the one who fought them."


    "You and I will soon see. Aren''t you a son of Ares?"


    "Then what? I mean, Elder, where can I start? Where are they?"


    "I have seen them ravaging towns. I have seen them tearing forests down and men kneeling before them."


    "What?"


    "Beyond that, I have not seen. I have only ideas. But you play a part in it."


    "And Alana too, for sure. Well." He cleared his throat. "Teach me, please. Teach me to control the visions."


    "Tell me what you already know."


    "I fasted for long. I disciplined my thoughts and concentrated on the Symbols of the Heavenly Gods. But I cannot call upon them often. I feel them, I see them often, but not enough."


    "You are married, aren''t you?"


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    "Yes."


    "Abstain from touching your wife."


    "You mean..."


    "Not even touching her skin. Not your wife, nor any woman. Do it for a few days."


    He shook his head. "But we sleep together."


    "Do it for ninety-six days. In those days, you shall drink nothing but cow''s milk."


    "Ninety-six," he whispered, startled, with his eyes open.


    "Can you do it?"


    Kassius took a deep breath. "Yes."


    "Do whatever it takes. If your flesh is weak, abandon this place and go live in the plains, next to the river, among the rocks."


    "Yes!" Kassius nodded.


    "We need a brave warrior and powerful priests to face the menace to come. Young Kassius, Aranus was a dear friend of mine. He saw, we both saw, what would happen if the war continued. It was all prophesied, even the rise of the Old Ones, but not all was clear. We could not foresee the treason of the Empire, nor what it meant."


    "What did what mean?"


    "He heard a prophecy from the mouth of the Oracle of Venus. Fifteen years ago, right before the end of the war. The Oracle gave us its time. It said it was better to die than to see them return."


    "I understand." Kassius knew how important he was, and yet, although he felt weak and unworthy, he knew failing could mean things would change, and not for the better. If the magnitude of the war when the Giants were defeated had covered the entire earth and left entire continents in ruins, in that dark age, it could mean the end of the world and the loss of all the people he cared about. He was willing to give all of himself, even his life for them. And yet, he wondered how strong his bodily and sentimental impulses could be.There was so much in Kassius'' mind, but so far, he had learned not to demand knowledge, for it could come too quickly, too harshly. Patience and strength of will were virtues he had to cultivate.


    "Come with me later tonight, and let us offer a sacrifice to the gods, to mark the beginning of your training," the Elder said.


    ***


    A brown and white goat was sacrificed to Ares that day; its flesh soon mixed with the aromas of the melting fat and the sacred seeds. Kassius ate the savory meal, savoring every fiber, knowing it might be the last time he tasted meat for a long time. The rest of the meat was gifted to families suffering from the plague.


    That afternoon, Kassius returned to his tent, where he encountered Alana, all smiles, along with Irema, a local woman who had been among the tribe''s officials, and Gitara, who was showing her baby girl to the local woman.


    "Kassius," Alana jumped to her feet and pranced toward him, extending her hands to grab his.


    Kassius did not extend his hands and took a step back when she approached.


    "Are you okay?" Alana asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you not wash your hands or something?"


    Kassius cleared his throat. "Ala, I''m doing something."


    "It''s about time," she said with a wink. "You spent all day doing nothing."


    "I mean, I''m doing a ritual. It will last ninety-six days and," he looked around. All the women were staring at him. He lowered his voice and looked at Alana in her clear blue eyes. "Would you mind if I talk to you in private for a minute?"


    Alana raised an eyebrow and turned her head, looking at her friends for an instant.


    "Sure," she said.


    "Excuse us for a minute," Kassius waved his hand at the girls, then walked out with her. The wind blew through her yellow hair, and the morning star could already be seen in the purple sky above.


    "What is it?" Alana asked, hands on her waist.


    "I''m doing a ritual, Ala, and it''s very peculiar."


    "What do you mean by that?"


    "I have to do certain things, or rather, not do them. I can''t touch you."


    "You can''t what?"


    "I can''t touch you at all."


    "That''s weird," she said, now crossing her arms. "So?"


    "Yes, so I think we will have to sleep in different tents."


    Alana giggled.


    "I have something to tell you too."


    Kassius raised an eyebrow. "What could it be?"


    "I was hoping you could come with me."


    "Where?"


    "To the north, to visit the Northern Tribes."


    "You? But how? When?"


    "Ira told me she could ride with us; she knows the steppe like the palm of her hand. She used to be the fastest rider and the old Chieftain''s messenger."


    "Alana, I just said we can''t be together."


    "Kassius, you are supposed to be my husband."


    "Yes," he ran his fingers through his messy hair. "But..." He shook his head. "I mean..."


    "So you won''t go with me?"


    "I would..." Kassius felt trapped. He hated making her mad.


    She crossed her arms. He hated seeing her frustrated.


    "Why? You don''t want to go with me?"


    "I do, but...""Why wouldn''t you want to go? Why do you want to get away from me? Tell me, Kassius."


    "Alana, I just told you about my ritual."


    "Your ritual? So is your ritual more important than coming with me? Kasha, this is important. First, you and I do things together. We are supposed to do things together. Second, we need to raise an army. Third, I''m seeing the steppe, I''d like to see it with you, imagine, the northern tribes must be so powerful. Maybe they will join us, they need to see you too."


    Kassius started to think maybe he could try and do the ritual later. But no, it was a long time, and he did not know how much time it would take before they would ride back into Itruschia.


    "Well, it''s more complicated than that," he said. "What if we wait until the ritual is complete, and then we go?"


    "I have to go now, Kassius, as soon as possible. Sooner or later, they''ll come looking for us."


    He fidgeted with his belt. That was a tough decision. What if she got mad at him? Besides, he was leaving her alone. The village was full of men more muscular and skillful than him. No, why was he thinking that? Did he not trust her?


    He had promised the Elder that he would do it no matter what. He cleared his throat and said it, as if finally executing a prisoner after minutes of hesitation.


    "I''m sorry, Alana. Really, I cannot go. I need to complete my initiation."


    He looked her in the eyes. Hers were moist, and so were his.

 Chapter XII - Human Sacrifice

    The company of Gadalian and Suevian explorers rested that night in separate camps in the woods. The next morning, they started their march before sunrise and walked until noon. Askar had to change his gauze often and had received a burning ointment that was supposed to ward off infections. Although his wounds still brought him pain, he felt much better than the day before.


    They marched close together, wary and suspicious of each other. Askar walked next to Elkas, whose piercing glance never deviated from the road.


    ¡°Askar, are you feeling well?¡± the decurion asked.


    ¡°Yes, Elkas. This won¡¯t stop me from doing my duties,¡± he replied.


    ¡°I know, my friend.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I just hope this promotion comes soon along with my leave. I am sure my father would be proud.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s already proud, brother,¡± Askar said with a smile.


    ¡°I just find it strange that no messages have arrived in so long, no information, no nothing. Sometimes I wish I could read.¡± He laughed.


    ¡°Ha, ha. I honestly think it¡¯s not a bad idea to learn. It¡¯s becoming useful.¡±


    ¡°People who read can only be average fighters,¡± Elkas explained. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because they spend too much time focusing on things.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°I mean, have you ever seen an Itruschian evading lance thrusts with his neck?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just that they don¡¯t train like we do.¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Elkas sighed. ¡°I really miss Adachia.¡±


    ¡°Not as much as I,¡± Askar said. He lifted his head as well. He could not escape from his duties, but the longing for Gitara¡¯s warm caress killed him every day. And one day he would be reunited with his child. He couldn¡¯t wait to go back to Adachia, to taste the seasoned lamb skewers at the town square, to smoke sacred leaves with his friends and family. And how he longed to see his child. He hoped in heaven that it had survived.


    ¡°Yes, you have a wife, I only have a father. Got to make him proud.¡±


    ¡°Got to give him grandchildren as well.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Elkas chuckled. ¡°Have yet to find a woman worthy of our seed,¡± he said with a laugh.


    ¡°Well, there are many from back home. Remember that blonde?¡±


    ¡°Ah, the artisan¡¯s daughter. Well, she was kind of cute, but... I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Askar, any woman will do. You¡¯re almost twenty. Just find a good woman.¡±


    ¡°The customs have changed, Askar. Girls nowadays only know how to dance, eat barley bread, and lie.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a sad thought. There¡¯s plenty of good girls who are also fun to be with. How many would not love you. What are you looking for anyway? Or do you fancy men rather than women?¡±


    ¡°No, I would conform with anyone who was just like me. Anyone who fits.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s foolish. No woman will ever be exactly like you, and if it seems that way, you are deceiving yourself. Anyway, when you come back with that phalera over your armor, you may choose any girl from town.¡±¡±You two are thinking of home too much,¡± Adna said from behind their backs, placing a hand over both their shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re gonna start feeling blue.¡±


    ¡°I think we already are,¡± said Askar.


    ¡°Anyway, if you get this phalera decoration, Elkas, you¡¯ll be home earlier than us.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Elkas raised his chin. ¡°Let¡¯s just be done with this.¡±


    The march continued for hours. Elkas had to speak with the Suevian leader, reassuring him that they were not going to fight among each other, and requesting the same of him. As much as Elkas tried, they could not find many things in common, and Askar felt resentment in the Suevian man¡¯s interactions. Soon, the forest seemed to disperse, revealing a wide pasture and a river of clear water.


    Then it appeared on the horizon. At first, it looked like rock menhirs raised against the sun, but as they approached, they saw it clearly. A wooden wall, very much like the one that had guarded the Suevian village miles south, but it had been broken through, as if pierced by multiple airborne battering rams. A wide field of wheat and barley spread before it, and still, a few houses were standing. The group marched forward, feeling a sense of dread in their hearts that Elkas could see from every glance.


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    And then, they saw the landing site where the beast¡¯s feet had sunk into the earth. A man could stand in their footprints, and they would reach his waist. The tracks continued, as if the beast had run toward the village. Further up in the field, Elkas found black arrows on the ground. He picked one up. The tip had become flat, deformed, as if it had been shot at a metal wall.


    The leader of the Suevian men, whose name was Alarich, pointed at a hut that stood two hundred yards before the village, still intact, and signaled to approach it. Elkas followed him to interview the inhabitants if they were still alive.


    The wooden door was shut, and Alarich approached, rapping on the door from outside and calling in their own tongue.


    Suddenly, a hand peeked out of the curtain and a man timidly pulled it open. He was thin, red-haired, and partly bald. His clothes were simple. He spoke to the leader, his voice breaking with emotion.


    ¡°He¡¯s a farmer. He¡¯s crying because one son is dead,¡± the Suevian translator explained.


    The farmer opened the curtain wide and revealed two small children, a boy and a girl, their hair pumpkin-colored, their faces stained with freckles. He wiped their tears with his fingers.¡±They were afraid, they cried,¡± the translator said in a coarse accent, as Elkas became overwhelmed by the terror in the man¡¯s eyes. The man¡¯s bony fists clenched, his mouth morphed into an expression of despair as he told the tale. ¡°A big man from the sky landed, made from iron or ore, big teeth, like swords. He tore through the wall, I could see. He says that he could see the giant stomp the houses with his feet; he saw little men and women thrown into the air; he saw bodies crashing against stone. His son was in the village¡¯s defense. The monster left, then, this man went to the city, to see what was left. His son could not be found. All dead, all dead. Now, Alarich asked if the entire militia fought.¡± The translator relayed his question and listened to the man¡¯s response. ¡°He...He says they are all dead, some now have no legs, no arms, still in the village. Not dead. He could not help them.¡±


    Elkas nodded. Alarich touched the man¡¯s shoulder, as if comforting him, and the man sobbed like a soldier¡¯s widow.


    Alarich signaled the men to march on and commanded some of his men to donate provisions to that family. They advanced through the fields, this time, more attentive. Elkas called on his company to walk aligned, on the outside, ready to form a Phalanx if necessary. As they approached the broken walls, they saw the lifeless bodies, some torn in two, their guts split open, their entrails scattered across the field. The putrid smell of human insides filled the air, and Elkas covered his nose and mouth.


    The creature was strong, and Elkas started thinking of possible scenarios. If it emerged from the ground, he had thought the best idea was to shoot it, aiming at the eyes, but the hundreds of arrows he saw on the ground were bad signs. If arrows were not useful, probably lances and swords were out of the question.


    Maybe they would have had to use different weapons, such as a catapult, explosives, or battering rams. In any case, he would try any resource he could find, including resorting to fire.


    And then, they entered the village. If the sight of the torn bodies outside was gruesome, inside it was a vision of Hades. The roofs of thatched houses had been crushed, some of their walls torn down. The insides were scattered with the remains of entire families, their bones crushed under pressure making the soldiers and barbarians grimace in fear. Brains, intestines, arms, and legs hung from walls and roofs, staining the streets with thick blood. Some barbarians fell to their knees and cried in loud voices, weeping for their relatives. Elkas noticed one unsheathing a bronze sword and screaming to the four winds, as if challenging the giant to battle. But the question remained: why them? What had those innocent people done to deserve the wrath of a Titan?Elkas prayed in his mind, even though those barbarians were his enemies. He did not fathom seeing a fellow human being torn apart by a creature from the abyss, and that could happen in any town, no matter if Itruschian, Gadalian, Suevian, or even the men of Habash, beyond the southern sea.


    The soldiers found a few survivors who had hidden in the sewers, and some broken families whose members had not fallen into those unmerciful hands. They confirmed the tale, their faces deformed into expressions of madness and fear, eyes fixed in the distance as if trying to erase what they had been through.


    One of them begged them to go back if they wanted to live. He said there was no weapon that could harm him. He himself had fired dozens of arrows, which had hit him but were as paper birds thrown against a boy¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Why did he attack the town?¡± Alarich asked one of those scarred men.


    ¡°He went to the center, to the center.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s in the center?¡±


    ¡°Menhir . . .¡±


    Thus, they set their course to the mound in the very heart of the village. As they passed and Elkas made sense of the distance and proportions of the place, he realized the city was a perfect circle. And in the center where the creature was headed was a circular mound protected by twelve pillars, half of which had tumbled to the ground.


    Black earth filled the place, as if something had exploded out of the earth and spread debris all over. The radius of the place was about fifty meters. Around it, the company saw the priests of mercury, their white robes stained in blood, their bodies split like fish in open markets. As they walked up to the center, overlooked by a tumbled menhir, they found a hole large enough to serve as a common burial. It had been carved in haste, like a fifty-foot-long dog digging a hole, but beneath, there was nothing.


    Alarich looked for priests left alive, but there was none.


    ¡°What was held in here?¡± he had asked one of the survivors.


    ¡°There was a legend, but we did not know if it was true . . .¡± he responded.


    ¡°What legend?¡± Alarich inquired, frowning at the man.


    ¡°The head of a great king was buried here, from before the oceans drank the great capital of the world. A great king, a king of giants.¡±

 Chapter XIII - Northward

    Alana bathed in the river, overlooking the vast steppe, her white horse outside and the morning sun shining behind her back. After drying her skin and hair, she dressed up with the new clothes Ira gifted her¡ªriding trousers, bronze knee pads, single ring chain mail cover, and a flowing purple tunic with spiral designs.


    She turned around, the skirts of her tunic fluttering in the soft springtime breeze, and she felt anew, as if she was back where she belonged. In that moment, a hunter¡¯s hawk creaked in the wide blue sky, like a sign from heaven. Alana walked through the yurts, back to her tent, and she entered. Kassius was waiting for her, sitting cross legged.


    He looked at her from below, the Sword of Ares wrapped now in hemp clothes, encased in a sheath too big for its size.


    ¡°Kassius,¡± she said with a sigh, but she did not know what to say. After all, she was going, and going alone.


    He stood up, breathing hard.


    She lowered her head, she begged for a hug, but why was she not giving it to her? She sat cross legged and opened her eyes wide, focusing on his green pupils.


    ¡°I will pray for you, you can go,¡± he muttered.


    Alana nodded. She felt offended and hurt. As if she was betraying him. Part of her wanted to understand his urgency, but the cold and unplanned attitude he showed felt like constant daggers entering her mind. She stood up and slowly turned her back. For an instant, she feared never seeing him again. Would she?


    ¡°Alana, I wish you to know that I really love you,¡± he said, his voice determined. ¡°But I must do this. I must see what lies in our future, your future.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± she said with a sigh, without turning to face him. Anyway, she thought, she hoped not to take long, at most two weeks, but she had never been that far away. Time was not long, but it could do much. And distance was a cold blooded killer of dreams.


    Goodbyes were painful. She could not bring herself to do it, so she took the sword in her hands and slowly stood up.


    ¡°See you soon, Kassius.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting for you, Alana.¡±


    She walked out, Irema and Kassara hugged her.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing great,¡± Kassara said, her hand on her shoulder. She was not wearing bandages anymore. ¡°You¡¯re doing great things, and I have never doubted our victory.¡±


    Alana nodded.


    Irema held her hand, maintained her eyes fixed on her, and both nodded. Even through their separation, their souls had been together and worked toward one goal. Alana could not fail her, Irema¡¯s dreams had been broken in two, and Alana swore she would help her friend see her mother again, and find a better future. She would avenge her loved ones, and make way for Irema to build her dreams again.


    Raxana hugged her.


    ¡°Alana, I remember my brother who¡¯s in the legion up north, if by any chance you end up going that way, please tell him what happened. Gitara is also asking for his brother.¡±


    Alana took a deep breath. She wished to go find the Legionaries, and tell them what happened, but it would be hard to find them. She thought, if she didn¡¯t find an army quickly, she would look for them, but if not, it could take a long time and be dangerous. If not, she could go up north after the reclaiming of her land.


    ¡°If I end up going that way, I will look for him,¡± Alana said with a smile.


    Tor was the last one, who embraced her tightly and wet her robes with his flowing tears, Alana took a last glimpse at him, his clear blue eyes.


    Tor had written a poem for her.


    Out of misty hills a seed did sprout,


    through night and snow, and freezing cold she rose,


    it grew through gardener¡¯s trims, through hail and snow,


    in pride and awe, its robust petals glowed.


    Alana kissed Tor¡¯s forehead and bid him goodbye. She mounted her white horse, the dragon blade on her waist and Sword of Ares on her back. Ira spurred her horse in front of her. Alana overheard the murmurs of the townsfolk as she slowly left the camp and the tears appeared on her face.


    A few months ago, she was just a girl dreaming of the future. She had dreamed of the steppe, she had dreamed of becoming an artisan, but never had she thought it would be so hard and painful. She begged the gods of the sky to preserve her loved ones, that she might see them again. Going on, meant going far.


    Their hooves barely made a sound in the wide grasslands, and Ira rode gracefully in front of her. Alana could see her skills through the coordination and bond she shared with her horse. Once again, she thought of how her father had ridden through those lands, and pictured him riding by her side, smiling at what had become of her. Her mind wandered and thought of his warm embrace once again. She dreamed of her mother, how she had never seen her, but the words others had said, that if she wanted to meet her, she should just look in the mirror. And then, like a trick of destiny, she was following in the footsteps of both.


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    They passed through the commercial route, and Alana saw a few people from the Varalkian tribe guarding the road. Young men with old rusty dragon armours, and every type of weapon they could find, a long lance, sword on their belts and a folded bow and quiver next to them. There was no transit at the time, but many tents had been set around the path, and Alana saw very strange looking people with curious clothes. In a big colourful tent, she saw a man of square features, olive skin and funny looking pointy boots. He sold musical instruments, but at the time was resting outside, smoking out of a big pipe. Alana also saw a blacksmith¡¯s shop, or probably a simple weapons merchant, as there was no space for a chimney in the tent. She curiously peeked through it, and although it was dark, she caught a glimpse of eastern blades she had never seen. Some of them were long and thin, others with extremely long handles, others, similar to the black parthian dagger she had found months ago.


    At night, they set up their sleeping mats under the moon and stars, their horses pasturing and resting freely in the open. Ira used her saddle as a pillow, Alana imitated her, but did not find it comfortable, instead, she lied down on her belly, with her chin over her crossed arms.


    ¡°How far is it, again?¡± she asked Ira, who was opening the bag of cheese and taking a hard piece.


    ¡°About five days.¡± she responded.


    ¡°I see.¡± Alana stood up with a sigh, the dragon blade still dangled from her side. She unsheathed and adopted a defensive position, pointing at the sky.


    ¡°Practising, huh?¡± Ira asked, chewing with her mouth open.


    Alana nodded, and waved the sword around.


    ¡°Nice posture,¡± Ira said, swallowing the cheese and reaching for another piece.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Alana said. She visualized her enemy in front of her, but she realised, now that Larius was dead, it did not feel right. Instead, she thought of the giants, of how she could defeat them, but even trying to cut through giant legs would probably be useless.


    She grabbed the sword tightly with both hands and sliced diagonally through the air, she blocked an imaginary attack and used footwork to slip and side-step. She had learned a technique from Raxana, she did a frontal thrust, stepped to the left side and did two quick lateral slices, one aimed at the legs and another at the neck.


    Ira lazily got up and stretched her arms.


    ¡°Would you like to spar with me?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Alana said, smiling. She loved to spar.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while,¡± Ira said, drawing her straight iron sword. The crosshead was short, like ancient swords used to be, but the blade was also made of twisted metal, Alana took a curious look. ¡°I hope my reflexes are still good enough.¡±


    Ira stepped and feinted low, pointing at Alana¡¯s abdomen. Alana parried, slipping back to dodge it.


    ¡°Nice footwork,¡± Ira said, bobbing her head, then she attacked from the side.


    Alana blocked easily and countered stepping to the side and attacking Ira¡¯s neck. Ira remained with her defence open, and Alana stopped an inch from her neck. She would have finished her, and could not help smiling wide.


    Ira nodded. ¡°Whoa, how long have you been practising?¡±


    ¡°Every day for the last two and a half months.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re learning fast. I¡¯d say it¡¯s in your blood.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m a Gadalian,¡± Alana said, feeling blood rush into her cheeks. But she knew Ira was better than that, Ira¡¯s blows were calculated, not hard enough to actually hit her.


    ¡°But how about this!¡± Ira said, and immediately thrusted her sword forward.


    Alana tried to block, but Ira¡¯s wrist movement avoided her steel and pressed forward toward her bosom. Alana was not quick enough to block, and Ira stopped an inch from her skin.


    ¡°Wow, that was amazing.¡± Alana stared at the tip of the sword.


    ¡°It¡¯s an old trick.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re good,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Not that good,¡± Ira put the sword back, she was panting. ¡°I¡¯m a bit out of shape, I¡¯m more of an archer anyway, but you¡¯re talented.¡± Ira was right, she was an average Gadalian fighter. With Kassara, Alana could never land a hit, even if she asked her to spare lightly. There were virtually no holes in her defence, and her counters were so quick Alana never saw them coming.


    Alana smiled, although she was not as good as any of them. The steel in her hand and seeing herself improve bit by bit didn¡¯t only make her feel powerful, it made her feel closer to her mother and father.


    Alana practised all night, and slept only when her shoulders started to get numb. She was surprised when Ira shook her up with the first rays of the sun. Alana opened her eyes wearily and stretched.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s time for breakfast. Eat today¡¯s cheese and sausage or else I¡¯ll eat your portion first. I like to eat, if you haven¡¯t noticed.¡±


    Their journey continued for hours, and Alana was starting to get tired of the same landscape. As they rode on, a few yurts appeared in the distance. Alana was curious to find out if it was the tribe they called the Sons of Hanaz. As they approached, Alana noticed those were not yurts, but small, makeshift tents with black flags on top.


    ¡°What are they?¡± she asked wearily, yelling so that Ira could hear her from twenty yards away.


    ¡°Hunters or . . . No . . . Bandits,¡± Ira said, pulling the reins, guiding the horse to turn eastwards.


    Alana shrugged to herself and did the same. Both horses deviated from their initial direction. She wondered how she could use the wind and the sun so masterfully, especially when there were no landmarks in the vast steppe.


    As they rode, Alana heard a horn ring behind her and turned her head in curiosity.


    Suddenly, two riders loped out of the makeshift tents, riding haste. She did not get a glimpse of what they looked like. At their sight, she spurred, feeling the wind smack into her cheeks.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Ira yelled from her horse, they¡¯re not as fast as we.


    Alana spurred furiously, grasping to control the reins, and she trusted Ira, they were far away. Bandits were never a good sight.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Ira said, bracing her horse quickly. It neighed and rose on two legs as it shifted to the side. Alana noticed black rocks, like menhirs and boulders on the steppe ahead. She narrowed her eyes, sensing something was not right.


    Two black horses emerged, as if springing out of a hole in the ground. Their riders wore clothes of animal fur, their hair was brown and long, their faces sporting untrimmed beards. They both held recurve bows in their hands and quivers and swords dangled from their belts. They rode toward them, from the opposite side. Now, they were coming from East and West.


    ¡°Quick!¡± Ira yelled, pulling the reins Northward and spurring hard. Alana followed along, spurring frantically.


    Then, she heard the buzzing sound of arrows pass by her ear.


    She swallowed.


    ¡°Come on, boy, gotta go fast!¡± she screamed, as if her horse could understand. She grasped the reins firmly, her heart pounding, and kept pressing the side of her horse. It galloped nervously. Arrows buzzed by her, and she looked back for an instant, they were drawing near, and worse, the four horsemen were readily aiming their arrows at them.


    Ira turned her face, she skilfully untied the bow from her back and took an arrow from the quiver by her hip. She aimed with the recurve bow, twisting her spine and neck, trying to aim. She contorted, as if the move caused her pain. She changed her approach, and guided her horse to slow down, turning right, aiming and shooting. Alana kept riding, and could not see whether the rider was down, but suddenly, she felt a sudden shift in weight, as if her horse had sunken into a precipice, its body twisting to the side.


    Then she heard a buzz close to her, slightly below her face. Her eyes slid down and noticed an arrow penetrating her horse¡¯s neck. It neighed. In the blink of an eye, the horse collapsed. She felt her body sway as if being shot from a catapult and flew to the side, rolling over the grass.

 Chapter XIV - The Survivor

    Florianus took a deep breath while the sunlight bathed his garden in pure light. The day was splendidly blue, with scattered clouds pierced by cool breezes. An august tree provided him with shade, and the flowers he had brought from the Eastern routes blossomed around him. His small study table stood in front of him, adorned with a vase of infused water and the tomes of his rigorous study. He moved his seat forward and picked up one of the leather-bound books, carefully opening it. The old cuneiform writings were as fresh as they had been when they were painted three hundred years prior. To the untrained eye, those precise strokes looked no different than mere triangles and wedges painted all over a piece of papyrus. Nonetheless, that was the script of the great Eastern Empires of elder ages, the oldest one known to man, and possibly inherited from the time when the Gods fought the Giants of the earth.


    On a new blank notebook of hemp paper, Florianus had drawn the alphabetical equivalent of each sound. He had learned the Eastern Language, at least the most modern variant, from one of his army colleagues, the same one who had introduced him to the Cult of the Hero.


    He sighed, as his progress was slow and the text confusing, but he persisted, even as the feeling of mental fatigue started to creep up on him. After all, he had lost a significant sum of money in his pursuit of that sacred text. It had been miraculously preserved by a pious soldier when the Great Library of Kan Digirak was burnt to the ground.


    The few translated pages he had dealt with valiant horseback warriors, their hearts pure and noble, their bodies strong and ready for battle. They fought wicked dragons of the skies and floating castles that spewed fire, capable of engulfing entire towns in flames. The text described monsters made of clay and iron, as well as holy princesses with flowing black hair who guarded enchanted chalices. But those fantasies or dreams were merely symbols of the fundamental struggles of mankind. He believed the dragon to be the archetypal symbol of the destructive barbarian, the eternal scourge of civilization.


    As he turned the page, he came across a unique symbol, a type of sigil. He narrowed his eyes and did his best to translate it. Slowly but surely, its meaning revealed itself. It was called the Seal of the Protector. Continuing to read patiently, the text spoke of wicked monsters created through black magic and the blood of fallen heroes. These men had been the great kings of the first ages, but their desire for power and immortality blinded them. Through countless sacrifices and secret blood rituals, they obtained immense power and magical abilities, which they used to subject mankind to the cruelest slavery.The great demigods fought alongside the gods of heaven, riding chariots of fire and wielding enchanted swords. The God of Fire bestowed upon them a sigil to serve as both an emblem and protection. The sigil resembled an eight-spoked wheel guarded by seven incomplete circles, each atop the other, with a hexagram in the center. Although he didn''t know much about magic, he was certain it held some form of occult symbolism. He planned to consult with the Acolyte later, but for now, he wanted to focus on the story.


    He scratched his chin in thought. Those evil monsters could represent human savagery, the rejection of decency and civilization in favor of barbarism. Meanwhile, the godly warriors embodied the civilizing forces of ancient empires. As someone well-versed in ancient studies, he recognized that existence operated in cycles. In the current cycle of time, he believed the Itruschian Empire embodied the golden warriors.


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    He hoped that the time was approaching when the entire world would become Itruschian.


    Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him and the clanking of metal armor. He sighed, annoyed at the interruption, and kept his eyes fixed on the text.


    "Sir," a voice interrupted his study in a callous manner. He clenched his fist and placed it gently on the table.


    Standing up, he almost knocked over the stool behind him before turning with crossed arms.


    "What is it, soldier? This better be important."


    "Sir," the soldier lowered their head. "Six soldiers from the Border Guard have arrived. One of them claims to have survived an ambush from you-know-who."


    "You-know-who? Who am I supposed to know about?"


    "The fugitives, the blonde girl, and..."


    The news hit him like a barrel of ice-cold water. Florianus let out a long breath and clenched his teeth.


    "That''s enough! Where are they?"


    "They''re in your office, sir."


    "Alright, I''m going there now."


    He felt foolish for not finding the fugitives during his four months in office, only for them to suddenly appear alive and well. For a moment, he believed that burning down the forest had been successful. He thought they had perished in the inferno.


    Entering the villa, he found five border patrol soldiers standing in his office, wearing full segmented armor but no helmets. They faced the gate, with the marble eagle that adorned the hall behind them.


    "Soldiers," Florianus declared, marching into the room with his arms crossed.


    "Sir," the five soldiers stood firm. Florianus noticed another soldier sitting on a stool with a hardened leather base. Their arms and head were wrapped in gauze where they had received a blow that miraculously didn''t kill them.


    "What happened?" Florianus asked curtly.


    "Sir," the soldiers began. "This comrade was..."


    "If he has a story to tell, let him speak for himself," Florianus snapped. The soldiers fell silent as Florianus looked down at the wounded soldier.


    "Sir, those women came in the night when we least expected. They attacked by surprise. They came like animals, killing left and right. They took the slaves and the horses. I... I was the only one who survived."


    "I knew it." Florianus scratched his shaved chin. Larius had been foolish, his meaningless sadism, his desire to let those savages starve and suffer instead of killing them on the spot had turned them into a bigger problem. Now, those savages were on the run.


    "How many were they?"


    "Five at first, five came in and attacked it. But there were many others."


    "Five people? Five people defeated an entire garrison?"


    "Sir." The man bowed his head. "They... They are armed and very powerful."


    "Those disgusting pieces of scum. We shall destroy them."


    He thought it unlikely that the Gadalian tribes that dwelled beyond the border could decide to attack. Even if they did, they were too weak to be a problem, Larius had been dealing with them for long, weakening them with pests and spies in their councils. They would not be foolish enough to start an invasion. Florianus thought of sending a scouting troop to check whether the fugitives were there. He could get them extradited back to Tharcia, and if the barbarians in the area were assisting them, he could kill two birds with one stone.


    Florianus turned around and clapped his hands.


    "Send an emissary to the Provincial Capital. We''re going out of the border and let''s put an end to those traitors once and for all."

 Chapter XV - Fates Entwined

    Alana gasped, staring at the two approaching riders whose hands grasped recurve bows and long arrows. She ducked again, ignoring the pain on her sides, and quickly reached for her dragon blade and unsheathed it. She used it to support herself and stood up with a groan.


    One of the riders guided his horse with his knees, slowing down and circling around her. The other had an arrow aimed at her body. Alana felt her heart pound fast. She would not give up that easily. Alana held the blade forward, ready to engage.


    But they put their arrows away, storing them back in their quivers. They surely did not want to kill and rob her. No, they wanted a slave they could sell.


    They dismounted quickly, like expert acrobats. One of them took rusty shackles from his saddle, the other unsheathed a fine bronze sword and descended confidently. The man''s hair was brown and tied into dreadlocks, his beard long and greasy.


    Alana held her position, her feet in a battle stance.


    The sword bearer jumped at her. She stepped back and parried the blow, following the blade, feeling it, and ready to counter if he attempted an attack. When he pulled back his sword, Alana sprung forward, letting out a roar from within, aiming at her enemy''s stomach.


    But the enemy''s body stopped short, his knees failed, and he fell down, gasping for air. Alana braced herself. A long arrow had pierced the man''s neck, coming out from his Adam''s apple, and dark blood flowed out, like aged wine from a broken barrel.


    Another thud burst on her side; she looked around. The man holding the shackles had an arrow going right through his skull, his eyes turned white as he tumbled down.


    Alana looked around. Ira was riding fast toward her, with her bow in one hand. She stopped and climbed down swiftly.


    Alana straightened and sheathed her sword.


    "Ira... I was ready to take them on!" she complained. "Why did you have to do that?"


    "Alana, are you hurt?"


    Alana realized a dull pain covered all over her back. She took a step forward and groaned.


    "Are you okay?" Ira came to her aid.


    "Ouch," Alana growled, squeezing one eye.


    "I don''t think... Ouch... I broke anything. It just hurts."


    A painful neigh sounded nearby. Alana noticed her horse was on the ground, bobbing its head in a frenzy and waving its back legs, trying to stand. It had an arrow through the neck, and a rivet of blood stained its white hair.


    "Oh gods above," she said, running toward it. She held the reins and pulled to the side, trying to help it to its feet, but she noticed its front leg had been twisted. It tried to get it on the floor, but it did not move like the rest.


    She knelt by it and realized its shape was not right.


    "Ira, I think there''s something wrong with him?"Ira knelt next to her, extending her hand to examine it, and touched its white lower left gently. Alana could see the tension in her eyes. Ira sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment. "Alana, his leg shattered. Even if he survives the arrow, he won''t survive that. There''s no way for him to keep going."


    "What?" Alana said. "And we cannot leave him, can we?" Alana raised her face. She felt her skin tense.


    "Little guy, please be still," Ira said, rubbing its stomach. The horse moved its limbs and head in pain.


    Ira stood up, her head down.


    "Please shut your eyes, Alana."


    "Is there no other way?"


    Ira pulled an arrow and sunk it through the horse''s brain.


    Alana held her eyes shut and felt tears filter through her eyelashes.


    "Let''s go," Ira said, mounting her horse and calling Alana to her side.


    ***


    Alana clung to Ira''s body, her gaze low, lost in the endless sea of grass and earth, as Tistriya''s hooves galloped in the great wide plains. She kept telling herself it was nothing, but she felt endlessly sorry for the horse. For a moment, she thought it was ironic. She had already killed more than half a dozen men and felt little remorse, yet they were overshadowed by the horse. What had she become? Was she even a good person? She was convinced that her cause was good, but why did it have to come to this?


    Part of her said they had it coming.


    But the men of her village did not deserve what happened to them, nor did the horse. The road went on. They rested under the stars for another night, and after a copious dinner, they slept.


    Alana dreamed she had killed the horse. Guilt overwhelmed her, and she woke up before sunrise, her heart pounding fast, her breath short and shallow. Ira was by her side, snoring with her mouth open. Alana sighed and buried her face between her knees, circling her forearms around her legs. The happiness she had felt the previous days vanished. She felt alone, she missed Kassius and her father. How could she be the one to answer for so many people? She was not even strong enough. She was thankful for Ira''s help. She wanted to believe she could have taken on the bandits by herself, but she did not, and could not, forgive herself.


    She knew she could be a great warrior one day. She was happy with her progress, but to be herself, the one who had been called upon by the gods to liberate the people of Adachia, she had to be much better. She was not living up to what people expected of her. What she expected of herself.


    The night was long, and she did not sleep. Ira awoke with the sunrise. She jumped to her feet, eyeing Alana, who stared at the blue and pink heavens as if begging for an answer.


    "Good morning," Ira muttered. Her hair was more disheveled than ever. She then stretched her arms and yawned, then blinked and wiped the sleep from her eyes. She furrowed her brow.


    "Alana, are you feeling fine?"


    Alana tensed her lips. If Ira knew how she was feeling, she would probably think she was unfit. Or did she already think that? She was being treated like a little girl once again. What was she, anyway, a brave and powerful leader or a girl who didn''t get the life she wanted?


    But no, she had to let it go, no matter what. She needed someone to understand her before people thought of her as something grand and powerful that she never was.


    "I am sad," Alana said.


    "Is it because of the horse?"


    "It''s everything."


    Ira sighed. She did not say anything, only held her tight. She then understood. There was something about Ira. She, also, felt a little different. She did not know what was in her mind, but the way she had winked at her, invited her, and supported her like nobody else had showed Alana that she was different. Strangely connected.


    During that tight hug, with Ira''s black hair against her cheeks and a slight aroma of cheese, she remembered all the people who supported her. How she had not given up even through times harder than those.


    "Why can you understand me so well?" Alana said.


    "Who says I do?" Ira whispered.


    "Why did you decide to help me?"


    Ira let go and leaned back.


    "Maybe I saw something in your eyes that I cannot describe with words." She took a deep breath. "I heard what you went through, and I know what it feels like to lose and to have the world put their weight upon you."


    "Tell me more about yourself, Ira, please." Alana doubted that Ira had ever held any responsibility higher than hers.


    "I do not think my experiences compare to yours, believe me. And I hate war with all my heart. I hated it fifteen years ago, and I will hate it forever. But our people were born for war."


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    Alana was silent, her gaze low.


    "I was born in the East, in Parzia. My mother was Gadalian, and my original father. I did not meet my father, like you, but the other way around." She cleared her throat and curled her lips. "She was pregnant with me when the Itruschians first attacked her village and killed him in front of her. It was an awful time. But it passed. I grew to ten years, milking cows and goats, and when I thought life was getting better, my village was taken again. They caught my mother and me, burned the house while we hid in the barn. She was holding me, whispering in my ear. Telling me to be as silent as a lamb. I was soaked in my own tears. I thought it couldn''t get worse, I thought it couldn''t, but it did. They broke down the doors, and the fire was all around. They pulled her out, did what they wanted to do quickly, not to get trapped in the fire, and they beat her so badly that she stopped reacting before the whole horrible thing was done. I was paralyzed. They pulled my hair and dragged me out, and then I had fears. So many fears... And I can''t remember... And..."


    "I am sorry to hear that, Ira." Alana swallowed, her eyes moistening."I did not want to fight. The famous Virnas, the Parzian horse master, took me. He was one of my mother''s customers; he liked the cheese she sold. He thought he could make a great warrior out of me and raised me as his daughter. I think he thought I would like to avenge them, but I only liked to train because my mind could fly away and forget it all. He made me the fastest, the one with the best reflexes, the best connection with my horse, and yet, I only wanted to ride and eat cheese. I wish I could ever taste goat cheese as good as the one my mother made. I only wish."


    "Life was not fair to you, but you are strong." Alana hugged her tight, but Ira didn''t move. "I am proud to meet you. Really."


    "It''s not about who suffers the most, Alana. Now, let''s get ready. We have to get going."


    They rode on, further from her loved ones. The existential pain had subsided.


    After hours of galloping and short breaks for the horses and themselves, the yurts of the Hunatians appeared on the plains. Triangular flags of red and yellow fluttered, and Alana could hear the chattering of men and beasts.


    Three sentinels rode toward them. Their manner of dress was different from that of the Gadalians, as their clothes were simpler and practical. Leather trousers covered their strong legs, and their feet were covered with high leather boots. Their helmets were of bronze, with a brown crest made of horsehair emerging from on top. Their armor looked heavy, made of many segmented plates, each seemingly made of bronze, attached to a long shirt of blue silk or hemp, and thick fur covered their shoulder pads. Their horses were also armored with fish-scale type armor. Long arrows stuck out from the quiver on their backs. Their shields were round, adorned with a sigil-like design.


    "Who goes there?" asked the first. Alana noticed a golden ribbon tied to his arm, perhaps a sign of leadership.


    "Gadalian allies," Ira said, bracing her horse. The three Hunatians kept riding, then the two who rode on the sides surrounded them. The one with the ribbon stopped in front of them.


    "Huntress Ira," the Hunatian said. "I did not recognize you from afar. Come with us." He continued, pulling the reins and spurring toward the camp."They''re nice," Ira simply said, winking at Alana and followed the man on her horse. When they reached the camp, Ira dismounted and helped Alana down. Alana threw a glance around the place. The yurts were colorful and tall, ornamented with flowing patterns and flowery symbols. A tall menhir stood in the middle, carved partly in the shape of an unknown ancestor or god. A few women walked about carrying vases of water, their long black hair tied in parallel braids and kept in place with colorful brooches. Their clothes were also of fine linen, colorful and filled with floral motifs, their hips covered by wide laces of silk. Some, especially elder women, walked around with headdresses as long as half their bodies. The men wore clothes similar in shape to the Gadalian open jackets, but favoring silk instead of hemp. The men wore their black hair long and untied. Their skulls were rounder, their eyes small, and their skin colors ranged from pale like milk to dark like copper.


    Ira greeted the men and women with a warm smile as she led her horse to their shared stable.


    "How come they all know you so well?" Alana muttered.


    "I buy cheese here every once in a while," she whispered, as if safeguarding a deadly secret.


    As Ira tied Tistriya and petted it goodbye, the initial sentinel stood behind her, holding a small lance. She turned and faced him again.


    "What are you looking for here, Ira?"


    "This time it''s urgent, Kharkai. I need an audience with Chief Mundzuch."


    "An audience?" the man asked. "So rapidly?"


    "Believe me when I tell you it is an urgent matter," she said.


    Kharkai cleared his throat and turned around, signaling one of the young sentinels to go, and the man trotted away into the yurts.


    "What is it?" Kharkai asked, narrowing his eyes.


    "The Adachians were decimated. Our people downstream, my tribe, are suffering illness and disease, and we need to find some help to reclaim the Adachian lands."


    Kharkai cleared his throat.


    "Help? Is it to fight the Itruschians?"


    Ira nodded.


    "Are you implying we should go and battle again?" Kharkai asked. "I doubt they will do it, considering the truce and¡ª"


    "The Adachians need help. Their people are suffering under Itruschian rule."


    "Well, I''ve never seen you this committed to a conflict."


    Ira took a deep breath.


    "Well, it''s because our friends have been unfortunate. Betrayed by the Empire that promised protection. We can''t leave them to their fate after what happened to them." Ira signaled Alana to come. She approached shyly, and Ira circled an arm around her.


    "This is Alana."


    "Hello, there," Kharkai said with a silly smile, as if addressing a small child.


    "Hello, sir, it''s nice meeting you."


    "She is the leader of the Gadalian people," Ira declared.


    "Leader?" Kharkai asked, raising an eyebrow."Yes, she''s young, but very brave, and you''ll see what she has achieved," Ira explained, as horses'' hooves echoed behind them. It was not the young sentinel; instead, a man with a silk robe with folds on the shoulder.


    Ira turned around and bowed her neck in front of the mounted man.


    "Head Eunuch Harmann, may the Sky Father give you strength," she said.


    "May the Sky Father protect you." The eunuch saluted. "The Chieftain may meet you before noon; you may take rest under this pleasant sun while we prepare."


    "Thank you," Ira said with a slight bow.


    Before they walked out of the stable, two women with yellow robes approached carrying straw baskets and wineskins.


    Ira elbowed Alana softly and winked her eyes at her. The woman opened the basket and revealed square pieces of cheese.


    "Cheese again?" Alana asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "Special mare cheese," Ira said, and Alana reached out her hand to try it. It was salty, a bit musky and strong, but it immediately filled her with energy. Then she drank a mouthful from the wineskin. It was kumis, fermented horse milk, one of her favorites.


    "Thank you," she said. Then she wiped her face with the sleeve of her coat.


    The welcoming party led them to the chieftain''s yurt. Its outer panels were blue and almost twenty-five feet in diameter. Dragons of gold were set on top, their expressions fiery, flashing golden fangs.


    They sat cross-legged in front of the yurt, below a wide canopy. The Sword of Ares hung from her back and weighed on her strained spine. Men and women kept coming, placing small baskets in front of them. Alana kept looking around; the welcoming she had received made her smile and forget her worries. She liked those Hunatians. She loved it when people were welcoming and kind.


    Soon, when the sun was almost at its highest point, a eunuch with braided hair and a funny-looking headdress stepped out from the yurt and invited them to come in.


    Alana cleared her throat. So far, Ira had done the talking and even explained what Alana was expecting. It was obvious that those people knew her and appreciated her. But in case Ira gave her time to speak, she did not feel prepared.


    The inner walls of the yurt were adorned with beads of gold and silver, depicting sacred flowers and serpent-like dragons. Long flower-patterned mats covered the ground, and the chieftain sat in the center. He was old; his gray beard and mustache were long but disconnected, his beard flowed down only from below his chin, skin wrinkled, his gray hair pulled back, and a red headdress on his head.


    The chieftain held a small staff with a dragon motif in hand. He pointed at Ira.


    "Chieftain Mundzuch, thank you for your audience."


    "It is always a pleasure to have you," the man answered with a pleasant voice and a thick accent. "How are your people doing? Is there anything I may do to help them now?"Our families have seen much struggle, Chief Mundzuch; however, now I do not come to you to speak of the Varalkians, but of our sisters beyond the river.


    "Do you speak of the Gadalians in the Empire? I have heard of what happened to them - very gruesome and sad. Many of my friends have been lost, and of their families, I know nothing."


    "To that end, I wish to introduce you to this young woman, her name is Alana of Adachia, daughter of Head Artisan Alan. You''ve met him before."


    "I have, indeed," the old chieftain said.


    "As you know, the Gadalians were decimated; only their women remained. This young lady here led a revolt and killed the Itruschian governor, then led a small troop out of the borders of the Empire and searched for us for help. Unfortunately, the Council of our tribe refused to assist her."


    "To help her do what? Ride into the Empire''s borders?"


    Ira nodded.


    The chieftain looked Alana in the eye.


    "So you are in charge of the people of Adachia."


    Alana felt her tongue stuck against her palate. She shook her head and cleared her throat.


    "I am leading our troop, that is all. But I have many excellent advisors."


    "Tell me of your plight," the chieftain said, his small eyes wide open in sincere curiosity.


    Alana cleared her throat and spoke slowly:


    "It happened three months ago. They attacked us at our weakest. They entered through the main road, masquerading as traveling performers. They set us up, attacked us unarmed, and killed without mercy. The men and women fought with whatever they had. And still, we lost them all. Even my father died fighting against them. Interrupted in his forge, he fought and battled as he could. The women of the tribe were abused and forcibly married to their men. My half-blood husband and I were spared, as he is the son of an Itruschian citizen. But when our burden became too heavy, many women rebelled. We fought back and were persecuted for it. We found a hiding place in the woods and attacked. The gods . . ." Alana cleared her throat again. "Gave us a sign."


    She released the sword from the canvas that held it. "Ares guided my husband, and we reforged the sword of Ares, the one used to battle giants, as a symbol."


    The man extended his hands, demanding to receive the sword and look at it.


    Alana carefully held it with both hands, one on the handle and the other on the blade, and gave it to the chieftain. He grasped its handle and held it upright, paying close attention to its angles, then he ran his hand along its blade.


    "What is this green jewel that shines like a star?" he asked.


    "The Green Tear of Venus."


    The chieftain lowered the sword and placed it on his knee.


    Alana lowered her gaze.


    "My husband prayed and fasted for days, begging the Gods of the sky to guide him to a treasure that could serve as a token. He was guided through caverns underneath the city, built by ancient peoples, and there, where his visions took him, he found it.""I see," Mundzuch offered, returning the sword. "The sword of Ares, is it not? The bane of giants?"


    Alana trembled slightly at the mention of that word, as if it held a forbidden power she did not wish to encounter.


    "So, what do you intend for us to do?" Mundzuch inquired.


    "To ride with us," Alana said. "Help us reclaim our land, avenge our husbands, and free our sisters."


    "Alana, daughter of Alan the Artisan, you possess the sword and bow of my people. We will assist you in freeing your sisters."

 Chapter XVI - When the Stars are Right

    Chieftain Varalkas coughed again. He shut his eyes and hit his chest with a clenched fist, then reclined forward in his seat and coughed again, and again, as a dull pain filled his chest.


    The eunuch behind him offered him a vase with medicine. He took it with one hand and swallowed a mouthful. The beverage was bitter and pungent, with only a slight touch of honey to mitigate its bitterness.


    He looked forward again.


    ¡°I am sorry,¡± he said with difficulty, and sat up straight on his silver stool. The members of the council were all cross-legged before him.


    Master Ghabas raised his hand to speak; the chief wearily raised his hand to signal him to speak.


    ¡°My chieftain,¡± Ghabas lowered his green eyes. ¡°Thank you for letting me speak, once again, in favor of our people. As I have said before, these Adachians who come here are a nuisance. They must not be allowed here for long. They put us in danger.¡±


    ¡°I protest,¡± one of the women raised her hand. ¡°We have a commitment to our relatives and friends. They are even of our own kin, and even if they were not, we should welcome them and be fair.¡±


    ¡°Is it wise to let other people in when your own people are struggling?¡± Ghabas said.


    ¡°We still have enough to feed them, and they may even join our workforce,¡± she said. ¡°The young mute boy is a woodcutter and knows a bit about planting.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t need more plants in here, they destroy the soil for our cattle,¡± said another rugged woman.


    ¡°But that is not all,¡± Ghabas looked forward, toward the chieftain. ¡°They keep poisoning our youth! One of our fellow men told me how his son mocked him for not joining that girl into battle, the boy called his own father a coward and derided you, my beloved chieftain.¡±


    Varalkas coughed again.


    ¡°I am sorry,¡± the chieftain said, blinking again. To hear such a story was unfortunate, but he was sure it was a minor incident. Children those days were rebellious and wild, but the times were dire, and they did not really hurt anyone. That persistent cough, however, was starting to worry him.


    ¡°Believe me, my chieftain,¡± Ghabas continued. ¡°It¡¯s a calculated strategy. They know our people are weak and want to manipulate our weakness and vulnerability. And...once again, we have heard that insidious conspiracy being spread from mouth to mouth.¡±


    Some of the counselors looked at each other.


    ¡°Yes, that dangerous thought that can lead us into great trouble,¡± Ghabas went on.


    ¡°That is worrisome,¡± Varalkas scratched his beard. He knew precisely what he meant by conspiracy. Last time that rumor had spread, it was discussed openly by their paid border guards. It caused many Gadalian youths to get into trouble with the Itruschian authorities at the border.


    ¡°So, in view of all this, I would like to propose just a small modification of the current law. For our land, for peace.¡±


    ¡°What do you propose?¡± Varalkas asked, clearing his throat again.¡±To forbid speaking ill of the Empire and isolate the Adachian fugitives. Arrest them and keep them in one place, no mobility, no contact with our youth.¡±


    ***


    Six days had passed since Alana¡¯s departure, and Kassius had been closer to the gods than he¡¯d ever been. Every day he studied with the Priest of Jupiter, who would instruct him in the ways of magic and divination.


    ¡°I had never realized that,¡± Kassius said, his legs crossed, a square piece of hemp paper in front of him where the priest and he had drawn a magic circle.


    ¡°I could have just told you,¡± the priest muttered with a sly smile.


    Kassius cleared his throat and placed his hands over it. He had drawn sigils for years, trusting in their power, but they sometimes failed. He believed in them, he believed in the magic that made the world and carved magical weapons incapable of being broken, he believed in the magic that defended armies and defeated magical beasts, but he knew not what the greatest secret was, the secret to making all magic effective.


    It was so simple, it had been in the back of his mind forever.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°The laws of the universe are fixed,¡± the Elder said. ¡°Many are the laws, but among them, the greatest is the law of mass. Nothing can be taken from nothing. No flesh, no earth, no power. The earth and sky sprung from an ether, they were shaped out of their initial chaos. Thus, it is also with power. A sigil is just a way to conjure the energies of the universe, its power, its magics, but to give them power, to access that power, you must give something equal to that which you desire.¡±


    That concept sat in Kassius¡¯ mind.


    ¡°Part of it is belief,¡± the priest muttered. ¡°But belief alone won¡¯t take you anywhere. Will is the gift the gods have given us. Power to act, and action is what brings the magic. Sacrifice, struggle.¡±


    Kassius nodded.


    ¡°It was not just the belief that the Sword would be found. The Sword of the gods came not by chance, not by belief, but by your will and action. That of you and of your wife.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°And so, that is the power of magic. The word, coming from the Ancient East, is related to the word might. That has been taught to me by the Magy of Parzia, the mighty. And it relates to anything you want to achieve. Your will must be unfettered. Your belief must be impregnable, and your action must be precise.¡±


    ¡°So it will be,¡± Kassius nodded.


    ¡°Now, raise your hands to the positions of power and receive their light.¡±


    Kassius took a deep breath and lifted both arms in front of him. One, he placed above; the other, palm down. Then, he recited the magical formula.


    ¡°Oh, great stars above.¡± His eyes faced forward. Around him, two young priests in golden robes chanted. Their sound reverberated, hemp smoke filled the yurt.¡±The second law, as above, so below,¡± declared the priest. To Kassius, those words were related to astrology, and he only had a superficial knowledge of such art. He knew he had to be aligned with the will of the gods and stars above to manifest his purposes. And by then, his purpose was clear; he had to become a master of magic to defeat both the Empire and the giants.


    ¡°Gods of the sky, grant me visions!¡± he cried, and then, it happened. His vision opened, and he felt as if being shot from a crossbow straight up into the sky, as if ejected from the world and cast into a world of shapes and dreams. Even the throat singing that had filled the room became too faint to be heard. Instead, a magnificent stillness whirled around him. Images passed through his mind: of people suffering, of giant monster-men roaming the earth, but above all, of the earth extending like a tree¡ªits roots sinking down to the depths of the mountains, and its branches reaching up. He gathered his consciousness and begged, ¡°How to defeat the Empire?¡±


    And the images raged inside him.


    He saw fire.


    He felt shackles around his neck. He opened his eyes; he was once again in Adachia. He saw death, burnt yurts, dead men and women. His friends imprisoned, Alana delivered to their torturers. He saw giants, an army of them roaming the woods, marching through villages with flaming roofs. Women hiding their children, men being stomped by ants. He saw the emblem of that ancient sect, he saw the dragon emblem burnt to the ground once again.


    He saw the entire world bowing down to an idol of gold and emerald, in a vast desert of snow and ice. He saw great cities turning to ruins, with their once glorious inhabitants begging for scraps.


    Death. Alana, his wife and the pride of his existence, surrounded by cruel executors in strange, unearthly clothes. Her teeth clenched in agony, in death.


    And he screamed. His body collapsed forward, his legs trembled, his neck staggered, and he panted like a hanged man. His fists clenched as he staggered to his knees, cold sweat drenching his skin. The throat singing had ceased, and the Priest of Jupiter was pale in front of him.


    ¡°I . . .¡± Kassius said, breathing heavily, his hands shaking.


    ¡°What did you see?¡± The Elder asked.


    "I . . .."


    ¡°I saw . . . Hades . . .¡± His breath grew even more desperate. He tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead. ¡°Please, that cannot be true. That cannot.¡±


    The Elder took a deep breath.


    ¡°I had seen it many days ago. It was hard for me to take it in.¡±


    ¡°But . . . But . . .¡±


    ¡°Kassius, stand up and walk with me outside.¡±


    Kassius shook his head.


    ¡°Come on,¡± the priest straightened his body and pulled Kassius by the arm. He sprung up and leaned forward, feeling he was about to fall.¡±


    ¡°Why . . .¡± he said, unable to articulate. ¡°Why . . .¡±


    ¡°It all came to you too quickly. All at once.¡±


    ¡°But you knew!¡± Kassius growled. ¡°How . . . How come you knew all about it and did not tell me . . .?¡±¡±Because I have seen both sides, I have mourned for days, but I trust.¡±


    ¡°That is foolish. I do not want my life to end! I do not want to lose my friends. I do not want to lose her. And the world... The world will burn.¡±


    The priest took a deep breath.


    ¡°Who says you will lose?¡±


    ¡°We will all die! We will all be captured, tortured. We will fall into their hands.¡±


    ¡°And who says you will lose?¡±


    Kassius panted.


    The priest went on.


    ¡°You may even win in death. I have seen it. It is not fate, but struggle. No matter the pain, no matter the struggle, right will triumph in the end, but only if it does not give up.¡±


    ¡°You sound like an Itruschian soldier.¡±


    ¡°Fight, keep fighting, keep your sword raised.¡±


    ¡°Is there... Is there a chance that it will not happen that way?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Kassius tensed his fists, the veins in his forearms pumped and blue.


    ¡°I must, I must not let it happen.¡±


    ¡°Come with me,¡± the priest wrapped an arm around him and helped him straighten up. The two other apprentices stood up, and he helped him walk outside. There, out of the tent, a field of stars covered them from above. ¡°Here,¡± the priest said, pointing upward, toward the constellation of the Hero, the three stars of his belt shining bright, sword in his right hand, shield in the other. ¡°Look up at the hero.¡±


    Kassius took a deep breath, as if oblivious to the story unfolding before him. ¡°There, look at his sword. Venus is passing through its orbit, and so is Mars.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°This is why I believe in the Sword of Ares.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°In a few years, both Mars and Venus will align one after the other, meeting exactly at the hilt of his sword. Then, the Hero will be face to face with the Beast.¡±

 Chapter XVII - Bear Queen

    Alana stayed in the biggest yurt she had ever seen, where silk-clad ladies catered to her every need, not that she asked for much. The entire torso of a lamb had been braised just for her, and presented , along with imported wine and yogurt. Incense and sacred seeds burned in front of her, and she felt the tension leaving her body as if offended by the holy smoke.


    Ira entered the yurt and sat on the floor next to her.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡±


    ¡°This has made me happy, I just wish our friends could enjoy it, I wish all of our people, even your people, that we all could be here.¡±


    Ira smiled faintly.


    ¡°I am glad you made it. Now, the chieftain is talking to his generals, let¡¯s just hope they don¡¯t raise any objection and come with you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Ira. You¡¯re so good to me. I am so happy to have someone who really cares for us.¡± Alana threw herself in Ira¡¯s muscular arms. Her breath was steady and robust.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Alana looked up at her. ¡°Would you come with us? Or not? I understand if you don¡¯t.¡±


    Ira chuckled.


    ¡°I hate war. Honestly . . .¡± She sighed. ¡°I cannot lie to you, Alana. I know your cause is just, and I love to help you, if I can, I will always help. But war is painful.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Alana said, but she knew, although she had suffered losses and injustice, she knew little of battle and warfare itself.


    ¡°There¡¯s something nice about it, though,¡± Ira said, stretching her long arms.


    ¡°What?¡± Alana raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°You have not been part of an army before, you¡¯ve fought in the forests and fields, and I¡¯m sure Kassara taught you a lot, but . . . Many people, willing to follow and act, as one, comrades you¡¯d give your life for. And deeds of valour greater than anything you¡¯d ever think you¡¯d do.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve already had a little of that.¡±


    ¡°But at the same time¡ª¡± Ira sighed. ¡°¡ªit¡¯s the most horrible thing in the world, it takes away the ones you love and leaves you scarred for life.¡±


    ¡°Tell that to me,¡± Alana muttered.


    ¡°So, please understand if I don¡¯t join you.¡±


    ¡°I do, Ira, and there is no way I can thank you enough for what you have done for me.¡±


    Suddenly, a hand encased in leather gauntlets pulled the curtains at the entrance, revealing a blaze of sunlight. The sentinel stepped in.


    ¡°Miss Alana, your presence is required at the Chieftain¡¯s yurt.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± Alana said, swallowing nervously. She clumsily stood up and looked at Ira.


    ¡°Good luck,¡± Ira winked at her. Alana nodded and followed the sentinel back to the Chieftain¡¯s yurt.


    Inside, Alana sat next to the great chieftain, two eunuchs sat cross legged on each side, and in front of them, four tall generals dressed in full armour. Their helmets were round on the top, with leather pads as cheek guards, their armours of segmented iron upon hardened leather. They made them look like armoured beetles. Their skins were tanned, almost brown, their eyebrows and hair pitch black, their faces flat, their cheekbones high. Goatees descended from their chins. They looked between dignified and terrifying, and Alana feared they would not listen to a sixteen-year-old girl like her.


    ¡°My brothers, my generals!¡± the chieftain spoke. ¡°We have gathered on the eve of the great seasons of heaven, when this young warrior appeared.¡±


    ¡°Is this the chieftain of the Gadalians?¡± One of the younger generals spoke, his brow was low, and Alana could see disgust in his face. ¡°It is a girl, a girl who¡¯s barely of marrying age. How can she be the one? Is this a jest?¡±


    The other two generals looked at him.


    ¡°Be respectful, Gharkan,¡± said an old man with thick lips and a long sparse beard. ¡°You know of the customs of the Gadalians. It is not rare among them to choose women as leaders, not it is for them to fight and lead armies.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s why they were almost obliterated, that¡¯s why there¡¯s little left of them. I have heard much, and from what I¡¯ve seen, their men are feeble and weak, their women are stronger.¡±


    ¡°Gharkan, please!¡± the old general said.


    ¡°One thing is putting tomboys to fight,¡± Gharkan protested. ¡°But being led by a sixteen year old girl is a joke. It¡¯s almost as bad as the Han, in the East, kissing the ground in front of their eight year old Emperors. A girl is worse, they don¡¯t even have any morals nor reason.¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Alana blinked in shock. She did not like that Gharkan. Part of Alana wanted to protest and teach him a lesson, but she was in a strange land, and it was better to respect their customs and let her actions speak louder than her words.


    ¡°Gharkan, please!¡± said the middle aged general. ¡°If I were you I¡¯d be more respectful. You¡¯ve earned your rank because of your wit, but I¡¯ve warned you before, it¡¯s not only wit, but respect and diplomacy.¡±


    ¡°I am the best warrior here, uncle Rackhsa.¡± He stood up. ¡°You made it sound like a valiant cause, but if they chose women for leaders, we¡¯d be in for a loss. I¡¯m not going to waste my time helping these people,¡± he said, jumping to his feet and turning his back.


    ¡°Get back here and apologize,¡± the old general said.


    ¡°Uncle, this is a joke, and it¡¯s not funny. Chieftain,¡± Gharkan said, with a slight bow of the body, then he rushed out into the afternoon sky.


    ¡°What an insolent youth,¡± the old general said. The other two remained silent. Rackhsa looked at Alana and smiled.


    ¡°Please forgive him.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem,¡± she said, so timidly that she could not hear herself.


    ¡°Well,¡± the Chieftain continued. ¡°Behold, this is the woman. Although she is young, she has fought many battles, showing wit and determination, and even with very little numbers, she has challenged the Empire. Now, the Empire is fierce and not to be dealt lightly.¡±


    Another general cleared his throat, announcing he would speak. It was a middle-aged man, either his armour was too thick or he had a little too much mass. ¡°Considering the Heavenly Serpent Archer Battalion, led by your beloved nephew.¡± He pointed at Rackhsa. ¡° . . . will most likely not join us. We are left with about 25,000 men to attack.


    Alana opened her eyes wide. She had never thought of the numbers. 25,000 was a lot. There were not even 10,000 Itruschian soldiers at Adachia. The battle was basically won.


    ¡°But if the enemy counter attacks, bringing troops from the provincial capital then, we would probably need some assistance.¡±


    ¡°Gharkan should have to follow us on the rear,¡± the middle aged general spoke, he was young and had no facial hair. ¡°Just in case.¡±


    ¡°And the attack must be swift,¡± said the chieftain. ¡°So that we retreat quickly, to avoid a possible counter attack by the Empire.¡±


    She wanted to say that there were fewer soldiers posted at the village, and a lesser on the border. But those generals were experienced and wise, and feared looking like a fool.


    The conversation went on, and Alana felt progressively get lost, until suddenly, all eyes were on her.


    ¡°Sorry?¡± she asked.


    ¡°What strategy are you currently planning? What is the current position of the enemy forces and their number?¡±


    ¡°Well, there are less than 10,000 soldiers posted at the village.¡±


    ¡°The issue is the border post,¡± they said.


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Alana said, clearing her throat. ¡°We were there, in one section there were no more than thirty soldiers. It is not that well guarded, but things might have changed. The problem is, if they see us from far away they can send their messengers quickly and intercept us.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we can split factions and attack different border posts at once,¡± the middle aged general suggested.


    ¡°But how fast can they move? I mean, in case they try to intercept us,¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Well, you should be the one to tell us.¡±


    Alana lowered her head.


    ¡°I think . . . Well, I don¡¯t know. I know only how many were at the village and how many were at a specific border post, but aside from that, I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°It would be wise to send a recognisance force beforehand.¡± The oldest general stroked his beard.


    ¡°Indeed, but if the base number is 10,000.¡±


    Alana cleared her throat.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to give a humble suggestion,¡± Alana said. ¡°One of our warriors served in the war and she has led most of our operations.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t she come then?¡± the young one said.


    Alana took a deep breath.


    ¡°She had stuff to do.¡±


    ¡°So what is your plan, miss Alana of Adachia?¡±


    ¡°Come to the Varalkian tribe, camp next to them and you can plan with Kassara.¡±


    ¡°I see, but you are the leader, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Well, not the military leader.¡±


    ¡°I think things work differently with your people,¡± said the middle aged one. ¡°Why did they choose you exactly?¡±


    ¡°I released a lot of prisoners and led them.¡±


    ¡°Like the Great Skapasis?¡± the youngest among them asked. Alana felt honoured, she was being compared to the legendary chieftain, and she couldn¡¯t help smiling.


    ¡°Not that many, but we were victorious in most of our sabotage campaigns, and . . . And I believe the Gods have a special mission for us.¡±


    There was an awkward silence for an instant. Alana scanned the surroundings, and glanced at the generals. Had she said something wrong?


    ¡°I have heard of that sword that hangs from your back, may we see it with our own eyes, young lady?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, shyly, and removed the sword, placing it in front of her.


    She unwrapped it, revealing the blade of twisted steel, the shining green jewel and the black crucible of wood. She handed it to the warriors, and the first one to grasp it by the handle was Changkai. He held it against the lantern, and examined its edges running his bony fingers through it. Suddenly, he groaned in pain, and looked at his finger.


    ¡°It¡¯s sharp,¡± he said with a wink. ¡°The chieftain told me you forged it, is it right?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Were you an experienced blacksmith like your father?¡±


    ¡°I learned a bit from him, but I never studied formally.¡±


    ¡°You see, chieftain, this is similar to the theory of the Seven Sages, a man who learns a skill can inherit it.¡±


    ¡°That makes no sense,¡± the young one interrupted. ¡°Am I a good fisherman like my father? I can¡¯t catch a fish to save my life.¡±


    ¡°Be more respectful,¡± said the middle-aged man.


    The young general made a face, but lowered his head in humility.


    ¡°So.¡± Alana cleared her throat. ¡°When are we going?¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Changkai the Elder said. ¡°We have to speak to the council, it has to be considered carefully.¡±


    ¡°Gentlemen,¡± Chieftain Mundzuch interrupted the old man¡¯s speech. ¡°Have you not understood what I said earlier?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s out of discussion,¡± the Oracle of Tengri spoke. We heard rumours on the trading routes, it is time to prepare for battle, and this battle is on us.¡±


    ¡°But chieftain,¡± Rackhsa, spoke. ¡°We cannot rush to attack just like that. It is wise to discuss possible lines of attack, but the counsel has to find it appropriate before acting.¡±


    ¡°We must, the Oracle was clear,¡± insisted the chieftain.


    Rackhsa groaned.


    ¡°Why are you listening to a woman who hallucinates on mushrooms half the time. It¡¯s just a dream. I¡¯m down for the fight, but I¡¯m worried that you follow the oracle without the council. This tribe is ruled by laws!¡±


    ¡°If you knew what is at stake you wouldn¡¯t complain,¡± Mundzuch said.


    ¡°What is at stake? Tell me, I¡¯m listening,¡± the young general asked.


    ¡°If we fail, the entire world will fall," the chieftain said. "Our lands will be lost. We must trust in her Sword and follow her, or die in eternal slavery.¡±

 Chapter XVIII - In Chains Until the End

    Kassius stretched his arms, walking out of the priest¡¯s yurt. His head was dizzy and his body weak from the long fast. The outside of his tent was strangely silent, and the only two people outside were two armored guardians. They stood with their arms folded, and when he walked toward the entrance, they did not give him space to pass.


    ¡°Good evening.¡± He stood in front of them, expecting the guards to make way for him, but they did not move.


    ¡°Excuse me, gentlemen . . .¡± he said, drafting a smile. ¡°This is where I sleep.¡±


    Simultaneously, they grabbed him by the arms. He took a step back, trying to break free.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked, trying to yank his arms away, but they held him tight. What was going on? Was it an attack because they were children of traitors or perhaps, they had felt offended by something one of their people had said.


    ¡°Let me go! Let me go!¡± Kassius said. ¡°What is going on?¡±


    The men pulled him back, dragging him. He tried to headbutt one of them, but received a slap in the cheek instead. He yanked his body out, but one of the guards took him to the ground, smashing his face, this time against the grass. He tried to lift himself up, but the guards held his wrists together. He felt strings circling around his arms, and binding him tight.


    ¡°Get up, you rat,¡± they said. One of them kicked him in the ribs, and he clenched his teeth in pain.


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Keep your mouth shut,¡± they said, forcing him to stand.


    The camp was strangely deserted at that time of the day, and Kassius¡¯ screams seemed to fall upon deaf ears.


    They marched him outside of the camp, to a carp that had not been there before, covered by a canopy as wide as an amphitheater. The inside was dark, filtering the light of the sun outside. In it, he saw all of his friends, all the ones who had escaped from Adachia, some leaning against the carp¡¯s poles, some sitting cross legged on grass, surrounded by dozens of armed soldiers. He, however, did not see the slaves.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Stay here and be quiet,¡± the soldier said. He untied him and pushed Kassius into the centre, he stumbled and fell on one knee. Kassara ran to help him to his feet.


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    ¡°Did they hurt you?¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± he said, turning toward them. ¡°What is going on?¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Why do you hold us in here, are you preparing a surprise birthday party or something?¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡± the soldiers said, before spitting on the ground. ¡°Steppe rats.¡±


    Kassius looked at Kassara with an arched eyebrow.


    ¡°It¡¯s even dumber than you think,¡± Kassara said. Kassius struggled to his feet again and checked for his friends, all of them were there, Tor, holding on to his book, Irema, her hair dishevelled and unruly, Raxana, Gitara, holding the crying baby, pampered by linens that were either brought by her or provided by the captors.


    ¡°What are you doing, you fools?¡± Kassius yelled at the guards.


    ¡°Now you shut up or I¡¯ll shut you up!¡± the soldier who had been cursing him said, grasping his spear with both hands and brandishing it forward.


    ¡°Cut it out, Yarnus,¡± said another soldier. ¡°Don¡¯t need to act all tough. Don¡¯t you see these miserable fellows?¡±


    ¡°You heard the counselor!¡± Yarnus said to his comrade. ¡°These people are dangerous.¡±


    ¡°But they¡¯re not even your enemy. They¡¯re our sisters and our brothers, that they had wrong ideas doesn¡¯t mean we should treat them like trash.¡±


    ¡°You shut up, Tarnakas, you¡¯re acting like a fool again.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re acting like a savage.¡±


    ¡°Now give me a break, will ya?¡±


    Kassius lowered his head and looked at Kassara, shaking his head.


    ¡°Why are we here again?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Some idiot thought we are a bad influence because the kids started questioning the chieftain, they put us here to keep us quiet.¡±


    ¡°What the hell? And what did the chieftain say? I mean, we can appeal to him, he wasn¡¯t that bad at the beginning.¡±


    ¡°The chieftain is dead.¡±


    ***


    The twelve counselors of the Varalkian tribe wept like there was no tomorrow. The Holy Canopy had been erected the very same day. The Chieftain had passed away the night before, in his sleep. He had suffered chronic coughs and terrible abdominal pain. He simply stopped breathing.


    But Ghabas knew better. He knew something no one else knew. And there, surrounded by the smoke of sacred seeds, of the ringing voice of throat singers, the sorrow and the wails, he looked around. His colleagues were all enthralled by the smoke.


    ¡°Oh, how great, how valiant was our great chieftain,¡± said Barganas, the oldest member of the Council. His hair had completely fallen off, but still sported a thick moustache that looked like a horizontal rendition of Jupiter¡¯s thunderbolt. ¡°Why, oh gods of the sky, why did you have to take him in such a hard season.¡±


    ¡°Poor chieftain,¡± Ghabas muttered, coming close to his colleagues and sitting on his hunches. ¡°Such a great man, so valiant. He had a hard time those last days. He was so . . . sickly, a very perilous disease came to such a man so quickly. I cannot believe it, anyway, may the gods guard him.¡±


    ¡°Hail to our chieftain,¡± said another counselor, thick and muscular, a huge patch of bald hair amid his red locks.


    ¡°Ah, which reminds me.¡± Ghabas stood up and quietly left the group, where hundreds of people gathered around them. He turned his back on them and advanced slowly.


    ¡°What is it, Ghabas?¡± the same man growled, as if offended by Ghabas¡¯ lack of attention.


    ¡°Let us prepare a toast in the memory of our great leader.¡± He reached for his wineskin and brought it to the dining table.

 Chapter XIX - North by Northwest

    "Ira, please pinch me; I must be dreaming," Alana said, facing away from the thousand tents and looking at the vast formation of cavalrymen in thick iron armor, wielding frightening lances and round shields on their backs. Other sections had orderly seas of archers with their long swords bound to their hips. Their banners fluttered lightly, depicting a sigil-like symbol. To Alana, it looked like a goat''s head, and it was painted in red upon the golden flag. The young general who had walked away from the meeting ended up joining their fighting force, with 5,000 strong.


    Alana never thought she could be part of something so grand, nor did she think she would ever be in charge of such a large army. But it was happening, and she was more sure than ever that victory would belong to her cause. Only one thing was missing, another thing that burned her heart deeply. She herself did not have relatives in the Legion, but Gitara''s husband was up north, and many others who probably did not know what had happened to their families. Or worse, Alana thought, they might have been purged themselves.


    The generals had gathered the next morning, and her meeting was different. She would not join them in their flight toward Varalkia; instead, she returned to Ira.


    "Ready to go back?" Ira asked with a huge smile.


    "I need to talk to you." Alana lowered her gaze.


    "Yes, tell me what you need."


    Alana took a deep breath. She felt it was right but was not sure if she would convince Ira.


    "I need you to ride north with me."


    "Where? What are you talking about? But they''re ready for battle. Do you plan on abandoning them?"


    "I think I won''t join them. Listen, there are some Gadalian legionaries from my village up north. I''d like to visit them and bring them the news of what happened to our people."


    "So you''re abandoning them?"


    "No, it''s something else I thought about. These troops, I told them to wait at Varalkia. I told them to meet with Kassara, and she will join their ranks and give them any information they may need. In the meantime, I need us to go to the north."


    "North? Where? What are you talking about, Alana? What legion? You are going to miss the fight; you''re going to abandon your army and your people on a whim."


    "Please. Maybe I can tell them to wait, but I feel bad for their sisters, and I don''t know if we''ll get a chance to see them. It''s made up of people from our village. Gitara''s husband, sons of some of the older women, brothers, and fathers. I need to join them as soon as possible."


    "And you think they will desert just because you tell them to? No matter what happens to their families, nobody wants to be in a military tribunal and get their head cut. Where are they even?"


    "Last time we received news of them, they were in the frontier. Up north."


    "The northern frontier? Where exactly? It extends for miles. Alana," Ira sighed. "Now that is hard; it''s only about three hundred miles, from what I''ve heard."Alana breathed deeply.


    "It''s my last chance. I don''t know if we''ll ever see them again. I don''t want to make a big fuss about it, but please, if you can, let''s go."


    Ira sighed.


    "Well, there''s not much else we can do."


    "Let''s just look for them. If we can''t find them, let''s go back."


    Chief Mundzuch had already arranged for a bag of provisions and tools for them. Ira was perplexed. Before the sunset, she put the mat and the saddle on her horse.


    "Get ready, my boy. It''s going to be a long ride."


    Alana stood beside her, with a bag tied to a walking stick. Her eyes were focused on the setting sun, yearning to see her brothers. The army would depart the next morning, probably arriving within a few days.


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    "How long will it take us, Ira?"


    "We don''t even know where they are. At least six days to get to the edge of the border, if we ever do," Ira seemed annoyed. Alana felt guilty, but there was no other way. She would probably not get them to join the battle, and even if they did, it would take a month at least for them to return. But they needed to know.


    That was way longer than she expected.


    "Fine," Alana sighed, resigned.


    "Do you have a plan?" Ira asked.


    "I''ll figure it out with you as we go," Alana said with a smile, but Ira did not return one.


    "Have you told them? We better go as soon as possible. Get ready."


    Ira climbed into the saddle and jumped up rapidly. The horse neighed. She extended her hand and Alana took it. She put a foot through the stirrup and grasped Ira''s arm. She sat behind her, their bodies pressed together in the small saddle, her chest against Ira''s hard bow of bone and her long unwashed hair. "Take a last look at your army."


    Alana looked at the endless sea of warriors. She whispered a farewell and a timid prayer to Ares for their victory.


    She looked at the red sun ahead.


    "Ready," Alana said, and Ira spurred hard, pulling the bridle. Her horse dashed forth into the fields.


    They rode through the afternoon hours, and when the waxing moon appeared in heaven and the Eveningstar shone proudly, they rested again under the stars. Ira did not talk much those days. She lied down and pretended to sleep, while Alana retreated a few feet away and practiced with her sword until sweat bathed her sleeping clothes.


    Alana realized she had to savor those moments, for after their travels ended, she would have to face war and horror again. Ira rested, her pale face expressionless and dim. Alana figured she did not want to talk to her. Was it because of a change in plans?


    "Ira, are you alright?" she asked.


    Ira took a deep breath and looked at her.


    "I''m fine."


    "You look a bit distraught. Can I help you in any way?"


    Ira sighed, leaning her head on her palm.


    "I''m fine. It''s one of those moments where you question things."


    Alana sat beside her.


    "I wish I could make you feel better."


    Ira changed the topic entirely.


    "Please leave me alone."


    Alana blinked, feeling as though she had been pushed off the horse.


    "It''s nothing personal, I just feel like being alone for now."


    "I understand," Alana said. "I just don''t want you to feel lonely. You helped me when I . . ."


    "Please, Alana."


    Alana stood up and turned to her sword to practice, but her mind was not at rest. Was it the sudden change of plans? She hated seeing Ira like that, but patience could be the answer.


    As she glanced at the steppe and the mountains in the distance, she wondered how it would be. She had met Teutish and Galish men and women before. Some had traveled to the markets, and a couple of them had wounded Kassius the previous winter, but she knew they were not all bad. They couldn''t be.


    After a long sleep and with the rays of the sun caressing her face, they gathered their things and rode again. The road seemed endless, and Alana''s uncertainty grew with each passing moment.


    At one point, instead of the wide grasslands, the air shifted, becoming fresher and heavier, and they encountered sparse forests of evergreens and oaks. They saw villages of small houses built along the riverside, and men with colorful tattoos and women with flowers in their hair. They passed undisturbed, never stopping except for lunch and when either of them or the horse got thirsty.


    The sun was almost setting on their second day when they passed through a homely village where the inhabitants had constructed a long orchard with red and purple flowers.


    Ira stopped along the road and asked where the Wall was and where she could buy cheese. After eating some spiced goat cheese, her mood changed entirely.


    "These are the people of Dana," Ira said, leaning on a fence by the riverside, holding her horse by the bridle. "They''re all around, from here to the lands beyond the Western Sea, and they really know how to make good cheese."


    "I''m curious," Alana said.


    Ira showed her a small bag tied up with a small pink lace. She untied it, and a salty smell filled the air. The cheese was pale and yellowish. Alana grabbed it with two fingers and took a soft bite. It was salty and lightly pungent.


    "Very nice," she said after swallowing.


    "I''ve been trying to ask the seller how they make it, but he won''t tell me."


    "The flavor is really unique," Alana said, licking her fingers.


    Ira took a deep breath.


    "That''s my dream, you know? One day."


    "What do you mean?"


    Ira had a big smile.


    "My mother was a dairy farmer, you know. She didn''t make special cheese, not any special variety, but to me, she made the most delicious cheese in the world. I cannot replicate her power, but I''d love to master the art of cheese making and share the best flavors from every corner of the world. I don''t care about money, but if I can make people in Parzia savor Northern Cheese, and vice versa, I could be happy. I need to get this man to tell me the secret."


    "Why don''t you marry him?" Alana muttered with a chuckle.Ira''s face morphed; her smile disappeared, and she cleared her throat.


    "Well, it''s time to go," she said, putting the bag away and rushing to mount the horse.


    "Did I say something wrong?" Alana blinked in surprise.


    "Let''s get going!" Ira said sternly. Alana nodded and pulled herself up onto the saddle. She spurred the horse and rode out of the village, into the sparse forest.


    "I''m sorry if I said something wrong," Alana muttered.


    "It''s okay," Ira said. "It''s nothing."


    "Well, your mood changed when I mentioned marriage. I was just joking."


    Ira bristled completely.


    "Alana," Ira said sternly. "It''s not something I pursued. I don''t like what you implied."


    "I was just joking!"


    "I do not need you to joke like that."


    "Hey, I didn''t mean it."


    "It''s not about whether it''s true or not, it''s what people say about me."


    "Why should you care about what people say?"


    "Why? Alana, because they say it. What can I say?"


    "Well, if it''s not true, why should you worry?"


    "Enough talk for today," Ira said as they left the sleepy village.

 Chapter XX - The Water of Life

    "I am the senior most member of this council," said Yarovas, the white-haired warrior who had served as a counselor for thirty years. The attendants remained cross-legged inside the yurt. Ghabas observed their reactions, and all of them looked at the old man. "With respect to our ancestors and past leaders, let me offer a sound suggestion backed by experience."


    "Go ahead, Yarovas," said a woman.


    "Very well," Ghabas said, sitting cross-legged in the circle of counselors.


    "As your senior-most member," Yarovas said. "And since there is no defined method of choosing a new leader in this tribe, I would humbly accept the leadership of this tribe."


    "You, Yarovas? You? Why you? You''re not the best of us," Ghabas muttered.


    "Because these are the ancient rules!" Yarovas shouted.


    "But those were not the rules under Skapasis," a middle-aged warrior said. He was muscular and stout-necked. "The leader of this tribe has to be the strongest, I say we summon the ancient law of the duel."


    "Nonsense," Yarovas scoffed. "That is completely unreasonable. I, as the most experienced, should be your leader, or at least you should listen to me. I have been part of the council even with Skapasis."


    "When Skapasis was chieftain, the council existed only in name," the middle-aged warrior continued.


    "Then, who?" asked Ghabas, his eyes wandering about.


    Yarovas coughed in his mouth, closing his eyes, then cleared his throat. The other counselors exchanged glances; they had seen the symptoms before. And they had ended in death.


    Ghabas leaned forward, handing him a vase with water.


    "Sire, are you doing fine?" Ghabas said, with fake concern in his eyes.


    "I''m all well," he said, proceeding to cough again. His cough sounded painful and echoed through the yurt.


    "Please," Ghabas tapped on the man''s back, but the old man kept coughing. "Stay still and try to breathe deeply."


    But the old man kept coughing, his face started turning red, sweat bathed his forehead.


    "Quick!" Ghabas shouted. "Make him lie down on his belly."


    "Yes," Krenos said. He was another counselor with grey hair, who always wore his dragon armor, helped him to his knees, and then down, his face against the rug. "I''m going to get some medicine," Ghabas shouted and ran out of the tent. His face showed concern and sadness, but in reality, everything was working as expected.


    He rushed into his yurt, where on the side, he kept hundreds of vases with medicine powder, pills, and poisons. There, his glass jar containing chlorine was half finished. That was the secret, his key to destroy the council. As the nation''s physician, he knew what to do. There was the medicine, not powerful enough to heal, a special mixture for pneumonia, of thapsia, garganica, barley flour, and honey. He knew the effects of the pneumonia in question, and although the medicine was correct, it would be wasted.


    He rushed back."Here''s the medicine," he said, rushing into the tent. But the young counselors were no longer holding the man. He had stopped coughing, and he was not on his belly but on his back, his eyes and mouth open, but still.


    Ghabas knelt by his side and tapped his shoulders.


    "Sir Yarovas." He reached for his arm and tried to feel his pulse; there was none. Around him, some of the women had their faces contorted with fear, and the men were also baffled.


    Hyrunne, one of the council members, stood up.


    "He was poisoned!" she shouted, pointing at the body. It almost looked as if she was talking to Ghabas, and he felt a shiver running down his spine.


    Ghabas shook his head and examined him.


    "No . . ." he muttered. "Impossible. He has-- there is no known poison that can cause this. It was just pneumakia. There must be a plague that has been spreading in here."


    "How can it be?" the middle-aged counselor asked. "He was completely healthy a few days ago. And why did the chieftain die before anybody else? Somebody must be playing."


    "Nonsense," Ghabas said. "I''m sure it was those Adachians. They brought it with them. I heard they were suffering from these kinds of symptoms."


    "But they''ve been around and all. They were not sick when they came, were they?" the woman said.


    "Some illnesses remain hidden," Ghabas said, leaning forward and closing the old man''s eyes. "Our chieftain may have contracted it when he first met the blonde witch. And now, we have all been exposed."


    "Does it mean we may have it?" another one said.


    Ghabas nodded.


    "Yes, and from what it looks like, it can manifest almost in the blink of an eye, and the circumstances may be deadly," he explained.


    "What should we do?" one of the youngest ones asked.


    "The miasma must be in this very room." Ghabas pointed his finger up. "We better go back to our homes and call off our meetings for some time."


    Hyurune crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on Ghabas like those of a poisonous snake.


    ***


    Kassara coughed again, louder than before, covering her mouth with her scarf.


    "Please," she managed to say between coughs. "Fetch me some water!"


    "Hey you." Kassius snapped his fingers at the guards. "Come on, go get some more water for her, please. She''s not feeling well."


    The soldiers remained still on each side of the exit, leaning on their halberds. One of them chuckled.


    "Come on! It''s not funny," Kassius said.


    Gitara started coughing by their side again, carrying the round-headed baby.


    "I''m sorry," she said.


    Gitara too? Kassius pressed his lips. He was worried that pests were spreading among them. But if the guards had been breathing the same miasma, why weren''t they sick?


    Behind his back, Kassara was coughing again. It didn''t stop; it echoed loudly, it sounded painful. In between coughs, she would gasp for air, desperate for life. "Please," Irema said, holding Kassara and massaging her back. "Please get something for her. Don''t you have any decency? Will you not care if she gets sick?"


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    Kassius stood up, walking to face the guards. He stood, looking down at the one who had mocked them.


    "Look at her! Have some humanity. Help her."


    Kassara kept coughing behind his back.


    The soldiers exchanged a glance. The one who had laughed at him frowned, exuding hate and pride.


    Kassius tensed his fists and looked him in the eye. Who did he think he was? Why did he act in such a way towards one of his own? He thought only some Itruschians, born and raised in a culture of power and domination, had these attitudes. And even he, as half Itruschian, had experienced that.


    "Do you want a woman to die on your watch? An innocent woman, just because you thought of denying her a vase of water?"


    "I will go get it for her," said the other soldier, the one who had defended them earlier.


    Kassius blinked in surprise and bowed his head.


    "Thank you."


    The soldier walked out, and his companion pursed his lips in anger while Kassius rushed to Kassara''s side.


    "Keep breathing deep," he said.


    Kassara''s eyes were teary. "I''m alright," she said.


    "No, you''re not alright. But hang on, I''ll get some medicine for you."


    The soldier returned shortly, carrying a clay jar filled with water, and crossed the main curtain.


    "Hey, Arenkis." The other soldier grabbed him by the arm. Kassius liked that Arenkis. He was kind. He would remember his name. The cruel soldier cast a defiant glance to his prisoners and addressed his colleague. "Don''t give it just like that. Make them beg for it."


    "Shut up, Varkos," Arenkis said, pulling his hand away. He reached, handing the vessel to Kassius. "Here," he said. Then, he turned towards Varkos. "No one told you to deny them water. The physician told us to give them all the water they wanted."


    "Now that is just sad; you''re bowing to the people who called us traitors. They offended us. They got what they deserved up in the Empire, and here they should finally learn their place. These rats are the children of traitors," Varkos said.


    Kassius bent close to Kassara and made her drink. She closed her eyes and swallowed the water.


    "Thank you," Kassara said, her eyes half-closed, then started to cough again.


    "Is it making it better?" Kassius asked.


    "Not much," she said, clearing her throat and leaning over Kassius'' body. "I''m getting worse."


    "It''s strange, it all started here and . . ."


    Kassius narrowed his eyes and glanced in the direction of the soldiers.


    "These soldiers are here all day and don''t show any symptoms," he whispered in her ear.


    "What do you mean?" Kassara spoke, almost croaking like a frog.


    "I mean, you''re very sick, and all of a sudden, for no reason, so is Gitara. If there is a viral miasma floating around, it has not affected any of them, nor me."


    "You?"


    "I am not drinking water."


    "I know that''s why you look like hell. But what...Are you implying..."


    "What are you bickering about?" Varkos snapped.


    "You. Are you drinking our water?" Kassius asked.


    "Who drinks water? Only slaves drink water or people who are starving."


    "Right," Kassius said, struggling to his feet. "Is this water you give to us any special?"


    "They bring it to us," Arenkis said.


    Kassara started coughing again.


    "Would you mind bringing us some milk? Just one vase, we will share it," he muttered. "Milk and honey."


    "Ask your mother," Varkos said.


    "Please, that''s our only request," Kassius said.


    "I''m gonna go get it for you guys," said the kind soldier.


    "Huh, do you fancy this young lad?" Varkos asked his colleague. "Maybe we can make you his slave."


    "Shut up, Varkos."


    "Arenkis the slave," the mean soldier chuckled. "You stay in here, or else we''ll chain you to the wall. You''ll be their slave."


    Kassara kept coughing.


    "Cut it out, Varkos," Arenkis said as he stepped out of the tent.


    Kassius lowered his head.


    "Come on, Kassara, lie on your back," he whispered to her.


    "Why?" she muttered. Her voice was as harsh as sandpaper.


    "It''s better when you''re coughing."


    "That doesn''t...make sense..."


    "Trust me, I''ve read about it."


    "Whatever," she said, lying her back against the grass and coughing again.


    "Relax," Kassius said.


    On his side, Tor started to cough.


    "Are you okay, friend?" Kassius asked.


    He nodded.


    "Oh gods," Kassius shook his head. "They want to poison us. We should get out of here."


    "And go where?" Kassara muffled through her breath.


    "Come on, hang on."


    "So you think I''ve been poisoned?" Kassara said.


    "Yes." She started coughing again.


    "Oh, by Saturn''s beard," Kassius bellowed.


    "What?"


    "What the hell are you talking about, you freaks?" The mean soldier scowled. "We''re not like that. You''re dishonoring our people and our hospitality. Then you accuse us; you''re freaks."


    "Hospitality? You''re the one who says we deserved to be slaughtered in Tharcia and won''t even offer us water. Now I ask you to explain what''s happening."


    "She''s just sick," the guard said. "They''re all sick. You got the sickness for being deceitful and evil."


    Kassius held his breath. He just hoped Alana would return quickly. He wondered whether she had been successful in recruiting help in the north.


    "Hey, cheer up," Varkos said, peeking at the exit. "Your slave is coming back."


    "This is all I found," the soldier rushed through the curtain, the sun behind him rendering him like an angel or demigod. He rushed in, holding a green pot, and offered it to her.


    "This is mixed ginger, thyme, honey, and milk," he said, pouring it down Kassara''s throat. She took small sips.


    "Not bad," she said, mumbling.


    "Give it to the mother, please," Kassius said, and the man quickly walked to the other side to offer it to Gitara.


    "Thank you," she said, after drinking and wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "Try to take deep breaths," Kassius said.


    "It''s hard to breathe," Kassara muttered with her raspy voice, now leaning the back of her head against Kassius'' shoulders.


    "You won''t die . . ."


    "It''s fine if I do," she mumbled. "Anyway, I''ll see my man and my sons sooner."


    "No, you won''t die," Kassius said, holding her.


    "Kassara, hold on," Raxana said.


    "I''ll be fine, you''ll be fine," she muttered. "You''ll avenge my babies. You . . ."


    She leaned forward and coughed in the gap of her elbow.


    "My gods," she said, doing it again, and again, her face was red. "Wow, it''s . . ." her voice became a whistle. "It''s hard to breathe."


    "Hang on, Kassara, just focus on taking deep long breaths, and you''ll be alright."


    The cough continued, Kassara''s face started turning red.


    "Kassi . . ." she hissed, gasping for air.


    Tor walked toward him, and so did Raxana and older women.


    "Is she choking?" one of the matrons asked.


    "No, I think it''s pneumakia. I''ve read about it and . . ."


    "How can it be poisoning, then?" the mean soldier asked.


    "Quiet!" Kassius said. "I''m trying to concentrate."


    He put her on her back and pressed on her stomach. But her face was turning purple.


    "Oh, blast, blast, blast . . ." Kassius said, pushing her hair away. "The clothes!" he yelled, and suddenly, he pulled away, and he remembered. "Oh, gods . . ."


    He had been touching Kassara, he was doing the initiation as his fingers had been all through the woman''s body, and yet, Kassara kept hissing, her entire body was changing color. Then, he felt a pull on his sleeve. He turned around, to find Tor extending his skinny hand, black carbon crayon in it.


    He nodded, then looked at the agonizing Kassara.


    "Raxana!" he called, opening her clothes. "Turn her over."


    "What?" she asked.


    "Do it!"


    Raxana helped flip Kassara''s body over, then pulled open her tunic from the back, revealing battle scars on her tanned skin.


    "Kassara, Kassara! Hang on!"


    He could see her skin turning blue, and light gasps through her mind.


    "Hang on, Kassara, breathe in, breathe out!"


    Kassius held on to the carbon crayon and drew the circle in black, he had to finish the sigil quickly, he quickly drew a circle across her back, and a diagonal arrow, then, another three spikes and a circle. He had to finish the inscriptions quickly. But the hissing became more desperate.


    Then, they suddenly stopped.


    "Kassara, Kassara . . ."


    Her body lay inert, unmoving.


    But he had to press on, he drew the ancient letter, the four runes that orbited around the circle.


    "It''s not gonna work!" shouted the guard.


    "Come on, Kassara," he whispered. "Stand back!" he said to the prisoners, he stood up and lifted his hand.


    "Please preserve her, oh Apollo!"


    But nothing happened.


    "Come on!" he said, panting himself. He looked around, how could a spell bring someone back from the dead? Maybe it was indeed too late. "Rise! Quick!" He turned around, facing the Arenkis. "Cut my hand."


    "What?" The guard shook his head.


    Kassius ran towards him, extending his left hand. "Cut it across the palm, I''ll spill some blood for her, that might work."


    The guard blinked in surprise, seeming unsure about that proposition, and Kassius grabbed his gladius and pulled it out.


    "Hey!" the guard shouted, and the other guard unsheathed his short swords quickly.


    Kassius closed his eyes and cut through his palm. He clenched his teeth to mitigate the pain, then threw the blade in the ground and ran towards Kassara.


    "Arise!" he said, putting his blood on her back, in the centre of the circle. Around him, there was deadly silence.


    And nothing happened.


    "Kassius, it''s okay," Raxana said, putting a hand on his shoulder.


    "Leave me alone!" he screamed, pushing her hands away. He knelt in front of Kassara. She could not go; she had saved him and them so many times, and there she was, leaving them alone, like when his mother died.


    He knelt in front of the body, raising his right hand.


    "I promise I will guard your life. If I fail, oh gods, take my life instead!"


    Then, like a bolt of electricity, she shook and gasped. Her eyes opened, and she twisted her body like a fish.

 Chapter XXII - Phantom Hourglass

    Florianus rode for three days in the company of two hundred cavalrymen and a hundred hoplites. They marched through the steppe until he saw those yurts and banners, extending for a long stretch of land beneath the dark evening sky. A bizarre spectacle comparable to termites circling around a hill. He felt as if he were being thrown back twenty years when he first campaigned against the steppe barbarians. His heart pounded, and he could still hear the cries of his men, he could still smell the blood and see the dismembered bodies of the ones he cared about.


    And there it was, as the sun set from whence he came, that was the land of the barbarians, the land of the wild men who bowed not to laws but to savagery and warfare. Two barbarian riders saw them from afar and raced back to their villages. He was sure some kind of defensive force would ride out to meet them. He, however, rode in the front, waving a banner of peace high.


    Three delegates rode out, accompanied by two warriors with long halberds. They raised their right hands in a sign of peace, and Florianus slowed his trot and stopped to meet them.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± Florianus greeted. ¡°Men of the steppe. We come here looking for fugitives who are said to be hiding among you.¡±


    The barbarians looked at each other.


    ¡°Fugitives?¡±


    ¡°Yes! They fled from our land, we are coming in peace but require, on Imperial Orders, to retrieve them. They are dangerous and wicked.¡±


    ¡°You come in peace with an army behind you?¡± one of the men, with gray hair and old armor said.


    ¡°This is just in case the protocol is not kept. As I have told you, I am looking for these fugitives, so it is best for you to cooperate, give them to me, and we shall go in peace.¡±


    ¡°Sir, on behalf of my people, let me welcome you,¡± said another one of them. He wore no beard and had dark hair down to his shoulders. ¡°We have those fugitives in custody, ready to be given to you.¡± He seemed so fat that it looked as if the mare he was mounting could collapse. He also looked familiar. Yes, Florianus had seen him months ago as an ambassador. He had done business with Larius.


    The other man, however, narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°Excellent. Hand them over,¡± Florianus said.


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me for the misunderstanding, good sire,¡± said the one with the gray hair and armor. ¡°But they are our prisoners. The council has to decide their fate, so let us welcome you in our village while we decide what to do.¡±


    ¡°Your prisoners? These men and women are wanted criminals in the Empire, and a hefty price is on their heads.¡±


    ¡°A price, you say?¡± said the fat one.


    ¡°Indeed, very high. So, if you have these scoundrels alive, we have a high price to pay. Now hand them over immediately, and we may honor that agreement.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the one in the dragon armor protested. ¡°This is not right. Sir, you wait for us, this shall be done according to our law.¡±¡±Krenos,¡± said the fat one. ¡°Do not be foolish. Let¡¯s just give these men what they want and be done with it.¡±


    ¡°The council will not allow it,¡± that grey-haired Krenos fellow said.


    The fat man pursed his lips and looked at Florianus with poisonous green eyes.


    ¡°Excuse us!¡± Ghabas exclaimed. ¡°We will discuss it. I beg your forgiveness for making you wait like this, but we shall go back and inquire with our colleagues if you may. Let me assure you that they will come to the most correct conclusion; they just need some working.¡±


    The man in the dragon armor coughed, covering his mouth with his gauntlet.


    The other two looked at Ghabas with pale faces and clenched teeth, perhaps offended by the fact that he was inviting an Itruschian leader.


    ¡°Now what?¡± asked Julianus, reining in his horse, trying to control it.


    Florianus took a deep breath and extracted a small hourglass from his pocket.


    ¡°Listen,¡± Florianus said. They looked at him attentively. ¡°I will give them thirty minutes,¡± he said.


    ¡°Thirty minutes?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He held the hourglass upright. The upper and lower parts were made of gold. He flipped it, and the sand started flowing slowly.


    ¡°And what will you do if we refuse?¡± Krenos, the troublesome one, said, raising his chin in defiance.


    ¡°That you will see. Now prepare, because time is already running.¡±


    ***


    ¡°What do you mean give it to them?¡± Hyrunne asked, hands on her waist, while the terracotta lantern shone inside the yurt. Six council members were gathered for an emergency assembly. Ghabas kept clenching his teeth; he had dealt with Larius, the previous Governor, only once, but that one was different. He seemed more unpredictable.


    ¡°They are fugitives, they¡¯ve always been!¡± Ghabas said. ¡°They broke the law of their lands.¡±


    ¡°Did you not just hear their story? They were oppressed and murdered without provocation,¡± said Krenos.


    ¡°The Empire doesn¡¯t act without provocation,¡± Ghabas said, raising a shaky finger.


    ¡°Of course they do!¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve seen it again and again. Or, those children are right, you have betrayed us.¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± Ghabas panted. ¡°This is what¡¯s best for our people. We cannot let them go empty-handed. Please, I just do not wish to provoke them.¡±


    ¡°What if we issue a bargain?¡±


    ¡°He said thirty minutes!¡± Ghabas said. ¡°Please, let us give them the prisoners and be done with it.¡±


    ¡°A bargain? We cannot let our pride be trampled like that,¡± Krenos said.


    Ghabas knew he should have acted faster. He should have focused his efforts on eliminating them. If he was the only one to survive, he would be the de facto leader. They did not know that the only way to be at peace and guarantee the survival of their tribe was through deals with the Empire.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Ghabas said, breathing out. ¡°What¡¯s the bargain?¡±


    ¡°Donations!¡± an old council member said. ¡°Of cattle.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, they need our cooperation,¡± Ghabas pleaded.


    Ghabas shook his head and turned his back, grabbing one of the lanterns.¡±Ghabas? Where are you going?¡± asked Krenos.


    He did not answer. He rushed through the tents, running as fast as he could, heart pounding, and noticed the two youngest council members were chasing him. He had to get there first. Then, out from the main camp, he saw the tent where the prisoners were held, surrounded by soldiers.


    ¡°Soldiers!¡± he exclaimed, gasping for air. ¡°Gather the prisoners, we¡¯re taking them outside of the village.¡±


    The soldiers looked at each other, confused.


    ¡°And where should we take them, sir?¡± said one, with an old rusty helmet on his head, illuminated by the fire behind him.


    ¡°Quickly!¡± Ghabas clapped their hands, and the soldiers acknowledged the order, marching inside the tent. Ghabas followed.


    Inside, the prisoners sat cross-legged on the grassy floor, still alive, although he had hoped the poison had already worked. They turned toward the guards. The light of a few oil lamps illuminated the inner walls, and the prisoners looked at them with awe in their eyes.


    They were not shackled, but the warriors¡¯ spears gathered them in the center of the tent.


    ¡°Get up,¡± Ghabas said.


    ¡°What is happening?¡± the tall boy with the green eyes said, standing up.


    ¡°We¡¯re marching you out,¡± Ghabas said. ¡°Taking you where you belong.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± the woman with almond-shaped eyes and scarred arms asked. Her tunic had been partly torn on the back.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°The Itruschian Empire is looking for you.¡±


    ¡°Stop!¡± Rushed steps echoed in the tent, and two young council members entered. ¡°Do not move those prisoners. Gather your weapons and leave only one soldier. We have to defend the village.¡±


    The soldiers stared in confusion.


    Then, when no one was looking, the black-haired woman sprang like a leopard and snatched away a soldier¡¯s halberd. Soon, she was smashing it against the warrior¡¯s skull. Her victim collapsed to the ground.


    It was too late when the woman pulled out his dagger and passed it to another fugitive.


    ***


    Florianus stared at the hourglass, its white grains depositing in the bottom, its upper half almost empty.


    ¡°Get the riders ready,¡± he commanded. ¡°We¡¯re coming in.¡±


    ¡°Senator?¡± Julius raised an eyebrow and pulled on the reins of his horse.


    ¡°Listen to me!¡± He faced his cavalrymen. ¡°These men have disobeyed our orders and defied our Sacred Empire. They favor and protect the fugitives that have caused so many problems in our land. Ares is our witness that we offered them peace and time to prove their loyalty. Now, we shall purge the earth of their putrid stench. Stay close to me and wait for my signal. If they attack, kill, women and children notwithstanding. But the prisoners, whom you know well, you shall take alive.¡±


    Florianus raised his sword and spurred.¡±Advance!¡± he spurred hard. His horse galloped toward the field, all of his men following closely aligned and at a high speed. They were not yet halfway to the camp when a buzzing alarm horn rang. Florianus laughed on his steed. For an instant, he thought the Varalkians would send their noblemen to kneel and beg for forgiveness. But they wished to die, and so it would be.


    Soon, they rode through the first yurts, where their residents scrambled, some running inside their pathetic tents, others trying to reach the plains. The women, with their colorful robes, ran with children in hand.


    The defensive units came out, too late, as Florianus could have ordered an attack and murdered half the village in the time it took him to go. He pulled the reins of his horse, raising his hand so that the cavalry could assemble, in a phalanx formation, with some of them posted in between yurts.


    The enemy started forming, disorganized, mounted, with bows and arrows and armor as old as their horses.


    ¡°Where are the prisoners?¡± Florianus screamed, taking off his helmet as a sign of peace. He was going to give them a last chance. ¡°Where are your leaders?¡±


    A unit of Varalkian soldiers formed on the opposite side, about thirty riders with recurve bows and javelins.


    ¡°Get out of our land!¡± a Varalkian soldier fidgeted nervously with his rusted lance, pulling the reins of his horse, trying to keep himself in check.


    ¡°This is the last time, give us the prisoners,¡± Florianus said. ¡°Your leaders promised me they¡¯d be back in half an hour, we¡¯ve been waiting for so long.¡±


    Then, Florianus saw the overweight leader running and trying to catch his breath, his hands reaching to his knees, looking up at Florianus from a distance.


    ¡°Sir, I beg your pardon, please. I had intended to bring the prisoners...¡±


    ¡°Where are they?¡± Florianus asked.


    ¡°I have brought five of them, the others have... Some of them escaped.¡±


    ¡°Escaped?¡± Florianus spurred furiously, trotting toward the Varalkian leader, who fell on his knees, dropped on his own sides, and curled his body like a baby. He held his head between his hands.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring them to you, please,¡± the leader bowed meekly and turned around. Florianus raised his hand to keep his men formed. In the meantime, the Varalkian cavalry assembled more soldiers around him, holding onto their lances and aiming them at Florianus. Their cheap, rusty lances with poles that could be broken in seconds. Florianus coughed. Five soldiers emerged from a tent, surrounding chained men and women. The ones he was looking for. He trotted toward them and identified six women and the mute boy. The half-blood traitor, the black-haired woman, and the pregnant one were missing.


    ¡°The three most important ones are missing,¡± he said, looking up at Ghabas.


    ¡°We will find them,¡± Ghabas cried. ¡°You may take these seven prisoners while we look for the others.¡±


    Florianus took a deep breath.¡±Very well,¡± he said, and he pulled the reins. He pushed his horse to raise on two legs, when suddenly he heard a thud and felt something fly close to his temple. His head tilted forward involuntarily. Then, he felt warm pain surging in the cartilage of his ear. He reached his hand and felt the warm liquid pouring from his side.


    He turned his horse. Julius and the soldiers around him stared in shock.


    Florianus held onto his spear.


    ¡°Who did that?¡± he cried, feeling his heart pump up and his anger surge like an erupting volcano. ¡°Who the hell does he think he is?¡±


    As he put on his helmet again, another thud burst by. He felt vibration and glanced at the arrow bouncing off his segmented armor.


    Another one hit Julianus in the neck. Florianus turned, as the centurion¡¯s head bounced like an accordion, the red crest of his helmet shaking. He fell on the side, falling off his horse, his foot still attached to the stirrups of his saddle.


    ¡°Sir?¡± Ghabas said, in shock. His face had become as pale as hemp paper.


    Florianus lifted his lance.


    ¡°Look for that bastard!¡± he commanded. ¡°Whoever shot that arrow, bring him to me.¡±


    For an instant, he felt fear creep up his spine. Fear was his friend. He had to use it wisely.


    ¡°It was not our men!¡± the Varalkian leader cried. The defense line of the Varalkian cavalry stared at each other and murmured in confusion.


    But his men feared him more. Florianus knew what was coming. He saw the fear in their eyes, the furtive glances around. And his eyes also looked around the yurts, but the night enveloped them like a beast stalking its prey.


    ¡°I want the man who did that to come out, if he doesn¡¯t want a bloodbath,¡± Florianus said. ¡°I want him to yield himself in one . . .¡±


    It was time.


    He raised his arm, in an unmistakable figure, and spurred on.


    The Itruschian cavalry barrier assembled quickly in a close formation. Florianus raised his spear, keeping his triceps parallel to the floor, and threw it as a javelin. The recipient saw it and tried to spur it to move away, but it was too late. It penetrated the Varalkian soldier¡¯s solar plexus, and his momentum pushed him back. The horse kept running, but its rider fell down with the spear through his thin armor.


    The Varalkian men held onto the reins, their faces white in terror when staring at their dead comrade.


    Another arrow flew by, this one hitting Florianus¡¯ horse. It rose on two legs, under control.


    What had they done to that poor horse? Who was firing those shots?


    Those people were savages.


    Florianus¡¯ uncovered ear was bleeding, the pain was growing, but it only made him more angry.


    Florianus had enough.


    In that moment, as they rode through the tents, Varalkians charged against them. They had short range, little space to gather speed, but they screamed like banshees, angry for the death of their comrade.


    Florianus¡¯ horse was out of control. The arrow had hit the horse precisely in the skull, but who? Who was hiding in the dark? Where? As his horse collapsed on the side and he jumped, holding his shield high, he looked into the darkness, through the yurts. There, he saw movement behind the curtains of a tent. From the faint light of a lantern within, he recognized the shadow of a recurve bow projected from inside its walls.


    Above him, the two groups had already clashed, and the victory of the Itruschians was immediate.


    ¡°We surrender!¡± cried the tribal leader, raising his hands, pale with an expression of pure cowardice.


    But Florianus had something else in mind. He scrambled to the side, on foot, with his shield and sword now in hand. He heard murmurs behind the curtains and panels, and he saw his men scramble out of the main battle, through the spaces between the tents. He rushed and knelt behind the tent in question and pushed through the curtains. Inside, he saw a decrepit old man holding his wife and young daughter. Where was the fighting spirit of the Gadalians? Had they become too sick to continue fighting? To continue living?


    He drew his sword, and the noise of metal and leather seemed to instill fear in the child.


    ¡°Damn you!¡± said a voice, and when Florianus turned, an old man lunged at him, brandishing a sharp butcher¡¯s knife. Florianus¡¯ blood boiled. He stepped back, parrying the knife, aiming at the man¡¯s hands, but the man was quick to evade. He passed the knife to his left, closed the distance with a quick step, and tried to stab Florianus on the side.


    Florianus was not quick enough to use his shield. He felt a push in his cuirass, but the armor prevailed. He turned, wielding the sword in his left hand, and swung at the man¡¯s head. The old man ducked, passing the knife again with surprising mastery.


    Then, Florianus felt a blunt pain on the back of his head, his helmet absorbing part of the blow, but his head rattled inside.


    Pieces of clay dropped to the floor. He ducked and turned and saw the woman of the house. The grotesque vision of a fighting woman almost made him snicker.


    Florianus stepped to the side, waving his sword in his hand, then pressing forward. He still had the advantage. He feinted an attack at the man¡¯s head. He recoiled, then thrust the sword into the man¡¯s belly. The daughter¡¯s screams pierced the air behind him.


    The woman, now wielding an old rusty sword in two hands, attacked him. Florianus blocked with his shield. She swung her blade again, and Florianus parried. With a quick whirl, Florianus cut the woman¡¯s head with one blow, as the child¡¯s screams became louder.


    He took a last look at the little girl. Her dress was cyan, now stained with her mother¡¯s blood, the whole outer panel of the yurt stained in crimson. Then, in the girl¡¯s green eyes, he saw the rage being born again. It would start over; it was the children, the children would do it all again.A little girl was innocent enough, but it was necessary. A necessary evil.


    He was more sure than ever, so he walked to the side and pushed the encased lantern. The flame spread, licking the panels, blankets, and curtains as he walked out.


    Outside, the soldiers now patrolled, checking inside every yurt. From there, he could see the prisoners kneeling next to three mounted soldiers.


    ¡°Men of Itruschia!¡±


    ¡°Hail, Florianus!¡± they said, raising their swords.


    ¡°Listen to me, for Ares, for your people. Please listen to my words. They will fight on until the last man is gone. So kill them, kill them all. Leave no child alive, leave no yurt untouched. Only our prisoners, we will take.¡±


    The soldiers said aye.


    ¡°No!¡± He heard a voice behind him, like a she-tiger¡¯s roar. Standing there was a woman with a recurve bow and arrows, the same black arrows that had grazed his ears and bounced off his cuirass. The little girl hid behind her back, and the woman¡¯s ruddy skin seemed to sparkle like bronze beside the fiery tent. Her eyes were dark and slanted, her hair long and unkempt from the prison and pain. Her clothes were partially torn, with only chainmail covering her sensual, muscular, and scarred body. She dropped the bow and unsheathed a long sword from her belt.


    She was one of them, he had seen her in Larius¡¯ prison. But now, even without her former warring glory, he could see her warrior spirit. She was a daughter of Ares, one of the seed he had to eradicate.


    ¡°Leave her to me!¡± he screamed at a soldier who was aiming his javelin at her. Before he could catch his breath, she was already three feet from him, whirling her sword. Her first attack was noteworthy; he knew that as a left-handed warrior, his defense was perfect on the right side, and he was good at parrying with his left. But she leapt to his right side, lunged like a dancer, and went for his knees. Florianus stepped back, narrowly avoiding the blow to his shin.


    In the blink of an eye, she was behind him. Florianus twisted quickly, catching her sword with his shield. Then she was on his left, thrusting her blade too close for him to parry.


    And yet, his cuirass absorbed the blow. He waved his shield inside, trying to punch her, but he missed her like a hare dodging an arrow.


    She thrust her sword forward in different directions and at different heights. It was too hard to let it continue.


    He raised his hand, that was the sign.


    As she faced him, she collapsed on one knee. The javelin was now through her thigh.


    Still, she raised her sword and threw it at him. He blocked it with his shield as she grimaced in pain.


    The soldiers advanced and shackled her hands behind her back.

 Chapter XXIII - Footsteps

    Alana spent the night behind the wall, back inside the Empire. The soldiers did not bother her much, but she slept with her sword under her pillow. She awoke with the first rays of the sun coming from beyond the wall and timidly opened her eyes. She moved to the opposite side, resting her body with her eyes closed, but her mind remained active. She wanted to sleep more and regain the energy spent riding and worrying. She covered her face with her hair and arms, as if it helped.


    "Hey, madam!" she heard a voice behind her call. She sighed in frustration. She would not be able to sleep again. She turned around and saw a soldier in segmented armor, but with no helmet, approaching with a small clay vase in hand.


    She turned her head curiously. The man knelt on one knee in front of her.


    "A bit of pottage from the army kitchen," he said with a dry smile.


    "Oh, thank you," Alana muttered, receiving it with one hand. In the other hand, he offered her a small wooden spoon. She tried the broth; she was thankful for the food, but she did not really enjoy peas. At least, it was warm and had enough salt to mask the beany flavor.


    "We are heating water for you, if you''d like to bathe," he said.


    "Thank you, but it will not be necessary. Are all of your comrades so kind, or is it just you?"


    "Well, they don''t really care, but it seems like you''ve been traveling for a long time. What were you doing outside the walls? If I may ask."


    "It''s a long story. Are you new here, by the way?"


    "Fresh out of training," he said shyly. "Well, a few months. I guess I''m lucky to be here; the barbarians don''t come near. Anyway, I asked you first."


    "I''m from Tharcia, and I''m looking for a legion up north. It''s supposed to be guarding the wall. Well, they were a few months ago, as far as I know. They''re from our province."


    The soldier raised an eyebrow.


    "Are they Gadalian by any chance?"


    Alana nodded.


    The soldier looked back.


    "Please don''t say that to anyone else," he muttered. "Now . . . You said your husband is a citizen, right?"


    Alana swallowed again. Could it be that she was wanted so far north in the Empire? Could it be that there was still a big reward over their heads? Realizing she was still in enemy territory made her lose her appetite.


    "What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, pretending there was nothing wrong.


    "You look as if you''ve seen a ghost," he said. "I''m not going to report you, but please don''t talk about that."


    "Oh, thank you, for a moment I thought I was dead," she said. "Yes, but . . . I''m surprised. Why? Why would they do that?"


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    "They told us . . . Not to let anyone through to the north."


    "Why would that be?"


    "Because . . . I don''t know, but . . ." He lowered his voice. "They gave us an order¡ªto execute anyone who tries to contact them, any messenger, anything."


    "Oh," Alana swallowed. "Sorry."


    "Because . . . Please just don''t say that. You look like a good girl," he said."Yes, but... that is strange. Why would that be?"


    "And I''d say you better go back. There''s something up north, something bad. I think that''s why they don''t want anyone to go. It''s really bad. Maybe that''s why."


    "Why, is there like a war that''s raging or something like a big mess-up somebody made?"


    He cleared his throat.


    "I said enough."


    Alana blinked. Aside from the fact that the legionaries in question were Gadalian, and they had to be kept away from the knowledge of what happened in their village, the boy knew something else. She was almost sure what it was; she heard it from Avlix.


    "Couldn''t it be, by any chance, giants?"


    The soldier gasped.


    "What did you say?"


    "I mean, we had... Uh, better not talk about that."


    "What is it? You mentioned giants."


    "Yes, we saw them move northward. I''ve been following their tracks, wanted to warn our people," she said.


    "Warn them?" He looked down, as if it was already too late.


    "Why are you making that face?"


    "Please, don''t tell them I told you, but... If you still plan to go up north, you''ll find out."


    Alana nodded. "Thank you for your help..."


    "Marius," the soldier said with a wide smile.


    "Marius? Like General Marius?"


    "Yes, exactly like him," he said. "Is he a relative of yours? I heard he lived in Adachia and married a¡ª"


    Alana cleared her throat. "No, not really, he''s just, you know, very famous and he lives down there so..." She giggled.


    "Yes, we had him posted close to here a few months ago."


    "A few months ago? Is he not here anymore?"


    "Here? No! They sent him East."


    "East?"


    "Far east, southeast, rather, close to the Land of the Three Rivers."


    "Parzia..." Alana said.


    "A little more to the south."


    "Well," Alana said with a smile. "Thank you, Marius, but I''ve got to get going."


    She gave the half-empty vase back to Marius and winked an eye at him. He shook his head.


    "What do you mean you have to go? Are you going to take a bath or not?"


    "No, thank you, Marius. I will just go back," she said. "If you''re so kind to show me where they put my horse to rest."


    "Ah, that''s... At the barn, it''s right in front of you."


    "Thank you, Marius. You''re a kind man, and I wish your service is fruitful."


    As she walked into the barn, she heard comments from other soldiers behind her back, talking to Marius.


    "You always scare the girls away, Marius. What do you tell them?"


    Alana rode north, along the border wall and the river that crossed nearby. She saw huge Suevian towns and passed through them, the inhabitants gazing bewildered at the lone girl who rode in full armor. The men were tall and proud, unlike the bandits she encountered the day before. Their hair was colored like bronze and gold, they wore togas, wool capes, and colorful belts, thick and embroidered with spiral patterns. Around the towns, there were wide fields where they grew crops and large herds of cattle.The noblemen wore buns on the sides of their heads, and their beards were braided. The women also wore braids, with their hair arranged neatly and tightly, and silver brooches hanging from their necks. They wore dresses made of linen and wool. Both the men and women were sturdier than the Gadalians, although they had a similar appearance. Alana thought this might be due to their diet of meat and bread.


    The town was surrounded by a small grove, which was visited by men and women wearing pointed hats and white clothes. Alana realized it must be a shrine of some sort, as it was surrounded by arches and pillars. Alana dismounted and approached a man standing next to the pillars.


    "Excuse me, sir, do you speak the Imperial tongue?" she asked.


    "I do," the tall man responded with a thick accent. "I am from Tharcia. Have you heard of a Gadalian legion?"


    "I do not speak to soldiers."


    "Then I suppose you have heard of the giants?"


    The man''s face turned pale.


    "Giants?"


    "Yes, I am looking for the legion that dealt with them."


    The man shook his head.


    "By the Thunderer... Be careful, young woman, we do not want to rekindle their ire."


    "Please, tell me where they were."


    "Just ride north. You cannot miss it."

 Chapter XXIV - War Crimes

    Gharkan was not convinced. The Gadalians had decayed into a weakly bunch. Although their training and skill were excellent, their customs and traditions had gotten the best of them. And yet, he could not deny the call for battle. He had been promoted as the leader of the Heavenly Serpent Archer Battalion due to his superior fighting skills. It was time to prove his abilities and lead his men to victory.


    Their great army was mobilized, expecting the return of the young woman the Gadalian called leader. Was she really the leader of the Gadalian nation, or a self-appointed ruler? To Gharkan it seemed like the latter. From what he had heard, her tribe consisted of eleven people.


    Anyway, he was a warrior, he did not care much for reasons. Chieftain Mundzuch stayed back, an old man as he was. But they rode on.


    Gharkan¡¯s division moved ahead, and the other three mounted groups advanced close to the sides in their journey south. They camped early every night, he stopped his moving yurt amid his warriors. He was proud of them. Most of them were seventeen and eighteen, and eager to go to battle, with no fear even for the first battle of their lives. He sparred with them, led training drills on how to defeat Itruschian phalanxes, practiced archery and his favorite: catch-wrestling, at which he had never been beaten.


    Gharkan was shorter than average, but since his childhood, he had dreamed of being a soldier like his late father. And a wrestler. Now, it had to be the first of many victories.


    He was used to hard work, and was determined to make his goal come . One day, he would be Supreme Commander of all Hunatian divisions. A Commander General for the whole tribe.


    The hordes advanced for a few days, stopping near the river, until the day on which they were supposed to reach the Varalkian camp. Instead, they saw burnt grass in the distance, mounds of earth and a few half charred yurts and tipis made of hides and animal skin. The other three mounted hordes had stopped around the place. He followed.


    ¡°Halt!¡± he ordered, raising his hand, his eyes trying to understand what he was seeing. For an instant, he thought those were the remains of a merchant group sacked by bandits, but the area they covered was too vast, and the number of their tents, or their remains, was big enough to call them a tribe. From afar, he saw human figures timidly standing up, very few, like survivors of a carnage, and hungry vultures circling above and feasting below.


    On the side, a portable wooden fence extended for many yards, shielding only corpses of cattle and again, feasting scavengers.


    The other generals signalled for a gathering, and Gharkan guided the bridle of his horse to face them.


    ¡°What is that?¡± one of Gharkan¡¯s soldiers asked behind his back. The brother had dismounted and taken off his helmet, narrowing his eyes and glancing at the vast killing field while the wind shook his long black hair.


    ¡°I hope it¡¯s not what I think it is,¡± Gharkan said. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon, my brothers,¡± he said, looking at his troops, some on their horses, some dismounting to rest.


    Gharkan spurred, riding fast on his Eastern stallion, coming close to the other generals. But he knew. They, the noble Varalkians part of the race that had made the Empire shake to its core, had once again been massacred. He felt strangely disappointed, that famous general they were supposed to meet had surely fallen by the sword. Another woman. The horror before his eyes meant only one thing, the state of warrior tribes after years of decay, after lending their leadership to women.


    ¡°You look excited, my brother,¡± said Arman from afar, the other young general, as Gharkan approached.


    ¡°What is going on, comrade?¡± Gharkan asked, with a frown facing the camp.


    Uncle Rackhsa greeted them with a nod, up on his horse, with the long red crest of his helmet fluttering in one direction. He trotted to approach them. His horse was as big as an ox, of a Hunatian breed long forgotten. Gharkan would have liked one of those. It would make him look taller. If the loot of that battle was good, it would be the first thing he would buy.


    ¡°Their camp was attacked,¡± Rackhsa said, reaching them, along with Changkai the Elder on a dark horse. ¡°Remain attentive. The people there may be the perpetrator.¡±


    ¡°Uncle, there¡¯s no need to be that wary. I think they¡¯re just survivors,¡± Gharkan said.


    ¡°Gharkan boy, you are a great fighter, but you haven¡¯t seen much. Traps and ambushes are the most treacherous things, now go and bring some men, and let¡¯s explore this place.¡±


    Gharkan rolled his eyes. ¡°Aye,¡± he muttered.


    Gharkan threw a glance at the charred camp. Trap? Impossible. There was no danger, even if the camp was full of hidden archers, there was no way more than a thousand armed men could hide in that pile of rubble. He went back to his men and told them to remain in position, he selected five men and rode with them into the camp. The other generals also had their own group, and advanced, closing in from different angles. What the shapes revealed shocked him for an instant. A woman lay with her intestines split open, a little child with his head against the grass on her side, at the foot of a huge yurt that had been consumed in flames, partly charred. Luckily, the vision was interrupted by the hungry vultures that crowded around them.


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    As Gharkan approached, he was struck by the salty, pungent smell of death. That horrid stench. The thing he hated the most about it was that it stuck to everything that drew near, it would linger in his throat and hair.


    Behind him, one of his elected scouts, a very proficient archer, leaned to the side on his horse and vomited. The reaction was as expected. Someone had to do it every single time. Gharkan himself shielded his nostrils with his leather gauntlet.


    They advanced through the yurts with their eyes open and ears attentive. The crackling of vultures and a few consuming fires were the only noises.


    ¡°There!¡± one of the soldiers said, extending his gauntleted fingers. A figure sneaked in and out of a yurt. Gharkan spurred, his horse trotted gallantly and stopped in front of the yellow yurt. He held his spear, just in case, and dismounted.


    ¡°Come out, we come in peace," Gharkan said.


    A gray-haired face peeked from behind.


    ¡°Thank the Red Sun!¡± said the man, crawling out of his yurt and kneeling in front of him. ¡°Thank the gods that you came!¡±


    ¡°Thank them later,¡± Gharkan said. ¡°What happened here?¡±


    ¡°The Itruschians came and slaughtered, they came and killed, young, old, they did not have mercy,¡± the man sobbed.


    ¡°How many survivors are there, old man?¡±


    The man looked up, the sun reflected in his eye, reflecting joy and thankfulness.


    ¡°Praise the gods! There are about a dozen. See that pole?¡± He pointed at a tall totem that stuck out. ¡°That¡¯s where they are. Follow me, I shall take you.¡±


    Gharkan signaled the other generals and their scouting sections, and they followed the man through the camp littered with half-rotten bodies. Inevitably, some of the comrades vomited, trying to aim away from their saddles, then leaned weakly against their horses¡¯ necks. Luckily, the more they moved toward the center, the less the smell. Soon, they found out that the survivors were gathering bodies and burying them in the ground, trying to gather the belongings of the fallen. From what they had seen, it would take them a long time.


    As they passed, they glanced at the bewildered survivors doing the job, some covering their noses and mouths with scarves and shirts. The area around the menhir was different. A tall cauldron rested on metal bars, over reddened ashes and whitened coal. Six people sat around it, two women, one of them with a crying baby in arms, and four men of different ages. One of them wore the plain clothes of an Itruschian slave. The group stood in awe as soon as they saw the approaching horsemen.


    ¡°Who is in charge?¡± Rackhsa asked, pulling the reins to brace his horse.


    ¡°Blessed be the gods!¡± One of the old men stepped forward and fell to his knees.


    ¡°We have no leaders nor masters,¡± said the woman with the crying baby.


    ¡°Please, take us!¡± said the man who had fallen to his knees, he was so thin that his ribs were visible. ¡°Take us with , as we have lost our land and people. Take us with us, we shall serve you, but please.¡±


    Gharkan and the generals exchanged a glance.


    ¡°These people lost everything,¡± he said.


    ¡°You have a leader who waits for you in the West,¡± Rackhsa said. ¡°Now, gather your people, we can share some of our rations with you.¡±


    ¡°We were foolish, if only we had marched with the woman!¡± the man on his knees said.


    ¡°You old fool,¡± another said, fat as a whale, and accompanied his words with a spat. ¡°If we were cursed and abandoned it was because of those bastard traitors.¡±


    ¡°What happened to the Adachians?¡± Gharkan .


    ¡°They were taken captives,¡± answered the fat man.


    ¡°And, that famous leader abandoned them, see?¡± Gharkan asked.


    ¡°Gharkan, Changkai, Rackhsa,¡± Arman said to them. ¡°Tell your people we will set camp here, let¡¯s listen to them and gather information.¡±


    ¡°Aye, sire,¡± they said.


    Gharkan turned around on his horse and rode toward his horde. His men waited attentively, unmolested by the blazing sun.


    ¡°What is going on?¡± asked one of his frontline soldiers.


    ¡°The Itruschians did this. The famous commanders  were going to advise were taken captive and are probably hanging from a cross right now.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± The soldier stared at the dark horizon. ¡°Well, what can we do?¡±


    ¡°Come on, people, get moving. Start assembling the tents. We¡¯ll pitch them here.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± they replied, dismounting from their tired steeds.


    ***


    A great bonfire burned at the centre of the new camp, away from the putrid stench of death and the disgusting birds that enjoyed it, and the sun slowly set. The yellow flags of the Sons of Hunaz stood proudly under the crescent. Gharkan joined the other generals, they sat on the ground, surrounding the survivors, who were dressed with clean clothes, gleefully feasting on dried meat and yogurt.


    The survivors related the account of their suffering. One of the men beneath the idol, the one who was dressed in Itruschian clothes related a most unlikely tale. He was not Gadalian, nor did he belong to that specific tribe. He was a man from the West.


    ¡°That girl saved our lives,¡± he said.


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying that those three women and a young boy killed twenty-five soldiers?¡± Gharkan asked with a chuckle, and  a sip of liquor from a wineskin. ¡°Brothers, the battle will be easy!¡± he announced, turning his face toward the crowd. ¡°Itruschians are so feeble that three women killed twenty-five.¡±


    Arman also chuckled beside him. His long eyes blinked twice, then he silenced himself to not offend his superiors.


    The Varalkians in attendance, however, clenched their teeth in annoyance. They  not like his jokes. But he did not care.


    ¡°Now, don¡¯t be such wimps, how can you deny it? Women? Is that the army that conquered the West? By Tengri, it¡¯s going to be easy.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Rackhsa silenced him. ¡°Now, you, what¡¯s your name, slave? What was your name?¡±


    ¡°Kavros, sire.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°The borders are not particularly well guarded as of now. They concentrated most of the forces in the village itself. They won¡¯t be able to summon enough troops to defend the border against your powerful army.¡±


    ¡°That sounds favourable,¡± Arman muttered. ¡°Good for us. What are the resources in Adachia?¡±


    ¡°That I know not, aside from soil for pastures and fields. Mistress Alana told me that the Itruschians burnt the forest, and there¡¯s pastures the Adachians used for cattle, that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Please!¡± cried the old man who had spent most of the day on his knees. ¡°Please avenge our people, we will serve you, but please avenge them.¡±


    ¡°We shall not take slaves from our allies,¡± Arman said, then turned toward the other generals. ¡°What shall we do? Should we return to our elders?¡±


    ¡°We cannot waste any more time,¡± Rackhsa said.


    ¡°My friend was taken captive by them, we were both serving the Empire.¡±


    Rackhsa caressed his long beard. ¡°Changkai?¡± he asked, tapping on the knee of the oldest general.


    ¡°Let us ride.¡±


    Gharkan narrowed his eyes. It was a rash decision on their part, but he agreed. It was the reason why he had decided to take his hordes, even in a foolish cause. He wished to prove himself in battle. He felt a surge of energy, like a thunderbolt in his veins.


    As soon as the sun soon rose, they picked up their belongings, mounted and marched behind the yellow banner of Tengri.

 Chapter XXV - Children of Stone

    The border wall extended for miles, gray and grim, across mountains, forests, rivers, and lakes. Alana kept riding, following the tracks of their masters. Wandering through Suevian towns, she heard of the place where the giants had landed and rode toward it.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there, big boy,¡± she said to the horse. ¡°Easy. Missing Ira? Me too. She¡¯s going to be fine. If I survived, she will survive too.¡±


    She felt guilty for leaving her but also terrified of going back. She pushed those feelings away, thinking she would be better equipped to save Ira after having the Legionaries join her cause.


    Following the path to the north, she came across the place. It seemed as if a star had fallen from heaven and opened the ground, pushing toward its core. She kept riding upward, through a thick forest with fallen trees. There, she found the border wall, part of it broken in pieces as if an enormous battering ram had penetrated it.


    She took a deep breath and advanced to the side. For a moment, she felt an intense dizziness, almost as bad as looking down from the hill in Adachia. She rested against the wall and took a deep breath. It took her a few minutes, but she was determined to continue. For a moment, she feared she had contracted the pest that scourged the Varalkians.


    She climbed the watchtower but found it empty. Weary and attentive to her surroundings, Alana crossed the border walls once again into barbarian lands. She kept riding for an hour, where the forest grew darker with every step, where she saw the constant footprints of the ancient giant, so deep that she could sink into them up to the waist.


    The trees were crushed, the same way she had seen it before, and she continued, attentive to any noise. The horse also showed signs of nervousness. But Alana kept going forward into the ever-darker woods.


    Then, she heard the trill in the woods. She looked up; the tune was not the same she had heard before, but something in it told her all she needed to know. Those were no birds.


    She took a deep breath and kept trotting deeper into the woods. She had tied the sword to her waist, ready to draw at any moment, and yet, she knew it was better to avoid conflict at all costs. She heard another whistle behind her head. Another man was answering. She took a deep breath, wondering what she should do. She decided to keep going, as she had already advanced for miles of thick forest, and it was hard for her horse to go faster in that terrain. Instead, she decided to deviate to the right. She kept looking around, as bandits were experts in camouflage and hiding.


    She advanced lightly and quickly, moving to the East when suddenly, she encountered a man with a horned helmet, thick chain mail, and gold ornaments on his clothes. From the corner of her eyes, she caught figures descending from atop the trees, their torsos naked and camouflaged, holding iron spears in hand.


    Alana raised her hands. ¡°I am just passing through,¡± she said.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± the one with the helmet asked.


    ¡°Just a traveler. I come from the south, from Adachia.¡±


    They looked at each other and discussed in their language. Alana glanced around her, wondering what they would do to her. If those were all bandits, she would have to fight for her life, and maybe die. Or was her life more precious than that? Captivity was hell¡ªshe did not want to go through that.


    ¡°I am coming in peace, I do not carry more than my weapons.¡±


    One of them stepped forward and spoke to her in Itruschian.


    ¡°Where do you come from?¡±


    ¡°Tharcia, a southern province. I am a Gadalian by birth.¡±


    He turned back and spoke to his leader, the one in the horned helmet.


    ¡°What are you looking for in these lands?¡±


    ¡°My friends and family. They are legionaries for the Itruschian Empire, I have heard they went in search of the giants.¡±


    The conversation continued, some of the warriors looked distressed, none seemed welcoming.


    ¡°Follow us, we will not hurt you,¡± said the translator. Alana nodded, lowering her hands.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± the leader ordered. Alana was still uneasy, glancing at her newfound escorts. They were too many and looked tougher than the bandits she had encountered before. Were they even bandits?


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± she asked. The warriors called on their translator.


    ¡°Home,¡± he responded.


    ¡°Fine, I guess,¡± Alana muttered, a little more relaxed. Passing through the woods she glanced at a great city, covered with wooden walls, surrounded by a great ditch and a river. The group turned around, marching toward it. It was more populous than most Suevian villages within the Empire, and it was just a few miles north of the frontier. A rocky road led them toward it.


    They crossed, people stared at her like they usually did in the southern villages, bewildered at the strange vision of an armored woman with a long and shiny blade. Their dress was identical to the Suevians within the wall, just with a little less Itruschian influence.


    And then, Alana blinked in surprise. She came across a face she had seen before. In the town market, leaning on a stall, she saw a muscular man wearing a red toga. His hair was short, but he looked too familiar. Pale face, almond-shaped eyes, he glanced at her for an instant, pausing his bargaining efforts, and smiled at her.


    ¡°Wait, wait!¡± Alana yelled. Her escorts glanced, surprised. She turned around, climbed down from her horse, and ran into the town market, pushing the people around. The man interrupted his conversation and advanced through the crowd, ran to her, and wrapped her in his arms.


    ¡°Adna,¡± she yelled. Her eyes started to moisten, and she held him tighter. She remembered talking to him once in her life, and her father was friends with his, but she never thought she would be so grateful to see him.


    ¡°Wow, I¡¯m surprised. What are you doing here?¡± Adna muttered.¡±Adna, I¡¯m so happy to see you. You won¡¯t believe what happened! I¡¯m so glad to see you.¡±


    They let go, Adna looked at her with an innocent smile.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Adna asked. ¡°I am really sorry, what was your name again?¡±


    ¡°Alana,¡± she said. Tears streamed down her cheeks. ¡°Have you heard anything? Did you hear about what happened to us?¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Adna still had a silly smile on his face. Alana felt her stomach turn. How could she tell him?


    Alana wiped her tears.


    ¡°The village.¡±


    ¡°What about the village?¡± That smile did not leave him.


    Alana swallowed. How could she tell him? What was wrong with her? She had fought and won great battles and was unable to tell a man the bad news? Well, those were the worst news he could ever hear. Everything he thought he would return to was gone.


    She cleared her throat. She had to do it.


    ¡°Adna, they attacked the village. They . . . They killed almost everybody, your mother is still alive . . .¡±


    Adna¡¯s pale face became as white as snow, the shock appeared to come too fast.


    ¡°What? Wait, what are you saying?¡±


    ¡°Adna, they killed them all,¡± she sobbed.


    ¡°Who? Who? Wait, no, that cannot be.¡±


    ¡°The Empire did it.¡±


    ¡°What did you say? There must be a mistake, that cannot be . . .¡±


    ¡°Adna, it¡¯s true, we saw it with our own eyes. The Empire did it. Legionaries, in red and iron. They came and killed them all.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. My father . . . What did you say about my family?¡±


    Alana took a deep breath, she felt terrible, and free at the same time, as if a wooden yoke had fallen from her neck in exchange for pushing a dagger through somebody¡¯s heart.


    ¡°Adna . . . I have to tell the rest of your men,¡± she looked up at him.


    Adna stood straight and silent. His eyes wide open, his face still white.


    ¡°Adna, I really need to talk to them,¡± she insisted.


    He shook his head, as if waking up from a trance.


    ¡°We¡¯re not all together . . .¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m with Askar and Elkas, do you remember them? And a few others, we were accused of desertion and remain here until they clear the issue up. But . . . Oh, gods damn them, how could this be . . . How?¡±


    ¡°We have to talk to them.¡±


    ***


    The legionaries had been sleeping under an old thatched roof. Ten men slept there, all under the leadership of Elkas, a big, strong Gadalian with a chiseled jaw that Alana had never met. His toga had been partially torn, revealing his wide and defined chest. He was friends with Atila, the boy Alana had been in love with since she was twelve. Askar was with him and had greeted Alana enthusiastically, yearning to know about his baby. Raxana¡¯s brother, however, was not with them.


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    ¡°Well,¡± Elkas said. ¡°What happened?¡± He sat at the center, leaning his elbow on a small wooden table. His comrades stood around, with crossed arms, leaning against the walls and beams of the small hut.Alana sighed. ¡°Too many things. I¡¯m sorry to be the one who does this. Really, this is something horrible, I know it will be hard for you to believe and assimilate, but... If only you knew how bad things really are.¡±


    ¡°Well, we can tell by Adna¡¯s face,¡± Elkas said, his brow furrowed. ¡°First of all, why did you come here all the way, all alone?¡±


    ¡°I came with Ira. Ah, you don¡¯t know her, she¡¯s Varalkian. But... please, prepare yourself. What¡¯s happened is horrible.¡±


    They remained silent. Alana could feel the anxiety in their hearts.


    ¡°The Empire betrayed us, they attacked the village, killed all the men.¡±


    Their glances fell. Elkas clenched his teeth, grasped the armrest so tightly he tore it away from the rest of the chair. He panted like a wild animal. They sat silent, looking at each other. Alana lowered her gaze.


    ¡°That cannot be true,¡± Askar said, standing straight. ¡°Everyone? How about our parents? It cannot be...¡±


    ¡°Every man they saw, Askar. Only a few elderly men like Arunas were left alive, and Kassius and Tor hid with me.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± Elkas shouted, clenching his fists. ¡°Those fecking bastards.¡±


    ¡°But no.¡± Askar shook his head. He refused to believe it. ¡°The Empire has us here, they are... Wait.¡±


    ¡°Askar, I was there when it happened. They came in broad daylight, pretending to be a traveling caravan. The entire village was out, enjoying the day. They killed them all. All the men who could utter a word, Askar. They enslaved us all, forced the women into marriage.¡±


    ¡°Gitara? How¡¯s Gitara?¡± Askar asked.


    ¡°Gitara is fine. She was with me.¡±


    ¡°And the baby? Did she have the baby?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she did,¡± Alana responded with a sad smile. ¡°She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She named her Lesa.¡±


    Askar¡¯s mouth twitched.


    ¡°We must return...¡± Askar said.


    ¡°Yes, please, return with me,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Who gave that order?¡± Elkas said, his arms crossed. His eyes distilled pure hatred. ¡°Fecking bastard, he killed my father. Why the feck am I even here now?¡±


    ¡°It was Governor Larius,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°The governor?¡± Elkas tensed his lips even more. ¡°We even mourned for him. Those damned bastards had us mourn for him.¡±


    ¡°He gave the order,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°We were told he was sick,¡± Askar said. ¡°That¡¯s what they told us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Adna interrupted them. ¡°Do you remember when old Furgus said he was actually killed by rebels and no one believed them? There you have it. Always listen to gossip.¡±


    ¡°We killed him,¡± Alana said.


    Elkas took a deep breath. ¡°Larius. What a cruel fecking joke.¡± He looked around. ¡°How could they do that to our people and lie to us so that we keep slaving for them?¡± He gazed at the floor. ¡°My father, my father was killed by those...¡±


    ¡°We gathered an army, Elkas,¡± Alana announced. ¡°I need you to come with me and avenge them. The Varalkians can¡¯t help us, but the Sons of Hunaz will.¡±


    ¡°An army?¡± Askar asked. ¡°Wait, there¡¯s a lot of information you¡¯ve left out.¡±¡±And there¡¯s much more,¡± Alana said. ¡°But the rest I¡¯ll let you know on the road. Now, let¡¯s go back and save whatever is left.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t move,¡± Elkas said. ¡°We¡¯re wanted for fecking desertion. We were expecting things to clear off, but it will take a while. If they see us within the Imperial Territories, they¡¯re going to torture us and hang us before you can say giant.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to brag, but the price on my head is much bigger,¡± she said. ¡°Come with me, really, I¡¯m telling you. I have an army.¡±


    They looked at each other. Elkas laughed. Alana thought the act of her being Alana, the young girl who never amounted to anything and was acting as a war emissary, was strange in itself to them. It was for herself. She could not fathom telling them many of those people called her leader. She did not need them to do that, anyway. They would find out themselves.


    But something Elkas said got her attention.


    ¡°And by the way, did you say anything about giants?¡± she asked Elkas. ¡°Do you know anything about it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± Adna yelled. ¡°Literally. I told you all.¡± He pointed at both. They looked at him with arched eyebrows.


    ¡°We were following it,¡± Elkas said. ¡°We were doing important things for the Empire, and see how they repay us.¡±


    ¡°But did you see the giants?¡±


    ¡°We haven¡¯t had the pleasure to meet him in person,¡± Elkas said.


    ¡°But I believe you, I know he¡¯s out there.¡±


    ¡°If you have seen what we have!¡± Adna kept shouting.


    ¡°Are the giants really a threat?¡± Alana asked. ¡°I mean, I heard they destroyed the village.¡±


    Elkas shook his head.


    ¡°They were searching for something,¡± he said. ¡°Some ancient treasure.¡±


    Alana blinked. She was sure that it had everything to do with the ancient legends. But what exactly? A few months earlier, she saw the tracks in the snow and the trail of dead soldiers it had left. And all because of their own spell. A sense of dread surged in her, along with feelings of guilt.


    ¡°What treasure are you talking about?¡± she asked.


    ¡°They call it the Crown of Somr.¡±


    ¡°Amazing! I¡¯ve never heard of it. What is that supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°A severed head, they say, three thousand years old,¡± Askar muttered. ¡°The head of their fire-god.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯ve lost me here,¡± Alana said. ¡°Whose fire god?¡±


    ¡°Suevians. They tell a story, I think the story of Jupiter, whom they call Thunderer, and Ares, whom they call Tir, who destroyed the god of fire.¡±


    ¡°Tell me more . . .¡±


    ¡°Who is that god? I mean, we know he was a giant.¡±


    ¡°Whatever it was, whoever it was,¡± Elkas said. ¡°That bastard was willing to massacre an entire village to get it.¡±


    Alana scratched her chin. The God of Fire? Who could that be? The Forger of the Weapons of the Gods? She had to find out, but what did they want, and what did they want to achieve with that. As the giants had awakened through their magical rites. Alana thought Kassius and she would have to deal with that later, but it seemed so unfathomable.¡±And no weapons can harm them,¡± Elkas said. ¡°They are invincible. I believe they might be interested in ancient treasures, like dragons are, although gold they do not touch.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re just looking for magical things. To perform a ritual, or something.¡±


    ¡°A ritual?¡± Askar raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°There¡¯s something else I did not tell you, it¡¯s hard to explain, but we have a sword... It¡¯s very unique.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the sword of Ares.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The three of them shook their heads.


    ¡°We found a crystal.¡±


    ¡°Wait...¡± Elkas pointed at her. ¡°You found a crystal, was it before or after the giants? I guess you wouldn¡¯t know, you weren¡¯t there when they rose...¡±


    Alana felt her face turn pale.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Askar asked.


    ¡°I am sure the sword was created to destroy the giants, but I don¡¯t know how it works... Anyway, boys, we may solve that later. We¡¯re working on that, we¡¯ve got books and stuff to solve that puzzle. Now, I need you to come with me, to the south.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be hard, we... We¡¯re soldiers.¡±


    ¡°The Empire deserted you!¡± Alana said. ¡°It¡¯s done, go home.¡± But she knew it would be hard for them to change so rapidly. She could see it in their faces, that was hard to fathom, hard to believe.


    Elkas clenched his teeth.


    ¡°What about the giants?¡±


    ¡°I will tell you the truth, sir. I was there when they rose. I saw it with my own eyes.¡±


    Elkas made a wry expression, as if he could not believe her. ¡°Honestly, this is all too much. Too much to believe.¡±


    ¡°Sir, why would I tell you all this?¡±


    ¡°A trap?¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°Well, fine,¡± Elkas said. ¡°We travel to the south.¡±


    ¡°Retake it.¡±


    ¡°We are not strong enough.¡±


    ¡°We just want to take the land of Adachia and make it free, that¡¯s all,¡± Alana said. ¡°The Empire shall have no part in our deals.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean going back to how things were?¡± Adna asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But...¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way back!¡± she said boldly. ¡°There¡¯s no other way. The Empire is our enemy, you have to understand. How can you not understand?¡± But Alana knew it was too much to take at once.


    Suddenly, the door opened with a creak. It was a man with a bald head and long hair on the sides and back of his head. He was Suevian, and a traditional knot hung from the side of his head. He leaned in, and the faint sun made its way through the dark room.


    ¡°Itruschians, they are calling you. They say it¡¯s urgent.¡±


    ¡°What is it, Adalbert? We¡¯re discussing important matters,¡± Elkas said, frustrated.


    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s not your soldiers. You don¡¯t need to fear,¡± Adalbert said.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± Askar asked the man.


    ¡°Some woman, the hell do I know?¡±


    ¡°At the gate?¡± Alana stood up, with a smile, thinking who it could be. ¡°What does she look like?¡±


    ¡°What do I know? I¡¯m not the damned watchman.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Alana announced.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It must be the Ira I told you about. You must come and meet her.¡±


    Elkas¡¯ frown disappeared. He lowered his hand.


    ¡°Ira?¡±


    ¡°Yes, she¡¯s my companion, the Varalkian woman.¡±Adna patted Elkas¡¯ shoulder.


    ¡°Brother, let¡¯s go see that Ira,¡± Adna said.


    Elkas stood up slowly and stretched his triceps. They bulged like moons springing out of the dark sky.


    ¡°Alright, but we won¡¯t stay there that long.¡±


    They walked through the dirt roads of the small city, ignoring the harsh Teutish chatter that emerged from the wooden windows, nor the thick people that abounded next to cake shops. Also, the glance Alana caught of a local weapons store impressed her. She saw sparkling blades of twisted steel, of the best Teutish quality, so sharp and shiny that tiny rainbows reflected on them as the sun caressed their steel. But that was for another day. Alana felt strangely small when standing next to the huge barbarians, and she was not a short woman in the least.


    ¡°So, you have traveled this far with her,¡± Elkas said to her. ¡°It¡¯s a long and perilous journey. Did you have to fight much?¡±


    ¡°A few times,¡± she said, looking up to face him. ¡°But I had a good friend by my side.¡±


    ¡°Interesting. I¡¯m surprised to see you survived such a long trek. How did you do it?¡±


    ¡°Provisions, hunting.¡±


    ¡°These lands are full of bandits, killers, beasts, you name it. Even if you don¡¯t travel alone, it¡¯s quite impressive.¡±


    ¡°I have a bit of training. A bit of training and a whole lot of luck. And Ira, of course, I would be lost without her. Or dead. That¡¯s my secret.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re like an amulet.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that,¡± she said, looking down. ¡°Or, blast, I might as well be.¡±


    ¡°So, what was your name again? I remember you from the village. You used to stay at Zita¡¯s house, didn¡¯t you? For weaving.¡±


    ¡°Yes, that was me,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°Fecking Hades, who would have believed it. Now you¡¯re here . . .¡±


    The tall houses hid the wooden wall around the village. They walked to the main gate. There, the entrance was guarded by Suevians with long spears and cuirass armors of bronze.


    The gate was open, and the piercing light of the sun blazed behind them. And there, Alana felt a smile curving on her lips as she gazed at her friend who had protected her life during the past week, her dark flowing hair, freckles, a few new scratches and scars on her face.


    ¡°Ira,¡± Alana said, running to embrace her friend, but as she passed through the gate, Alana stopped short and blinked in surprise. Ten tall Suevian men stood behind Ira, with horses, carts, and weapons.


    ¡°I hope you took care of my horse!¡± Ira said, jumping to greet her with a warm hug. She still smelled like fresh goat cheese. It made her feel hungry.


    ¡°Of course, I did. He¡¯s fine and well. Ira, I¡¯m so, so sorry I left you!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± Ira put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°You did what you had to do. I wouldn¡¯t do that to you, though.¡±


    ¡°Really, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just kidding.¡±


    ¡°Do you know her, Itruschian?¡± Alana overheard one of the guards asking Elkas, at the very side of the gate. She turned her face.


    ¡°Well, she¡¯s a distant relative, in a sense,¡± Elkas answered. ¡°She¡¯s with lesser men. They want to get in. Pests, they are.¡±


    A man got off a horse behind her. He had dark hair down to his shoulders and blue eyes.


    ¡°Is this how you welcome old friends?¡± he said to the guard. ¡°Go tell Albrich his brother is here, whether he likes it or not, and we¡¯re doing some good.¡±


    ¡°You are nothing but bandits.¡± The guard pointed a finger at him. ¡°Not welcome here.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad, oh, the infamous Teutish manners.¡± He turned his back on the guard.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Alana, you need to talk to the chieftain of this town,¡± Ira said.


    ¡°Again?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Alana. I also saw the destroyed village. You must.¡±


    ¡°But they already know about the giant, it¡¯s not necessary.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to. We need more allies.¡±


    ¡°Against the giants or against the empires?¡±


    ¡°We must be prepared.¡±


    ¡°But how are we supposed to know? Ira, there¡¯s no time. The sons of Hunaz must already be there.¡±


    Ira remained still.


    ¡°Boys,¡± Ira said, then stepped through the gate. ¡°We are riding back to Gadalia. I know you are wanted, and let me tell you, you¡¯ve got the best guerrilla army this forest has ever known. Some call them bandits, I call them old friends. So if you value your family more than anything, come with me.¡±


    The soldiers exchanged a glance. They looked at Elkas, and Elkas seemed enthralled, with his eyes like arrows pointed at Alana. She felt slightly uncomfortable.


    ¡°Well, if you say so,¡± Elkas said. ¡°Let¡¯s get our horses ready. It¡¯s time to go back home.¡±

 Chapter XXVI – Last Journey Home

    Claudius did not let anyone know, not even his closest associates, not even the director of the hemp plantation where he often helped to prepare compost, not even Zita, the mistress embroiderer who was working hard to train a new batch of uninterested apprentices. Claudius did not even tell his servants.


    For months on end, he had worked hard every day and night, trying to get people to work on the old hemp fields. He had worked himself to the bone to increase production. He had brought foreign blacksmiths to the village, but none of them could replicate the old craftsmanship of Gadalian art. The purported apprentices were too amateurish even to produce anything of quality. The name of Adachia, once synonymous with luxurious artifacts, had sunk to the nadir of imperial inventories. And yet, he kept trying hard, at least, to keep it afloat.


    He did not let anyone know that he was leaving. He took a few round trips to Tharcia, carrying his own luggage, with no servants by his side, just the driver of his carriage. That part was routine, but when he knew Florianus had ridden to the East with his best cavalrymen, he knew it was his chance to go back home. He reached the old Provincial Capital of Tharcia, thousands of miles to the South. A happy town with bricks of concrete and stone, with old Hellenian pillars and an industry that could boast of being strong, though modest. He did not meet with the city¡¯s prefect, but quietly slid payment to his driver to leave him close to the Western City gate. There, he paid for a carpentum with a long wooden body, an arched roof top, and iron wheels, guided by an old Thracian with olive skin, a pointed hat, and a thick white mustache.


    He packed his light luggage and a few gifts for his children, paid the driver with a bag of silver coins, and set off on the main road.


    As the carriage advanced through the miles-long road, and its wheels made a grinding sound so terrible it could wake the dead, but Claudius was so used to it he could even sleep. Its price, however, was to wake up with a stiff neck.


    ¡°You¡¯re not from here, are you?¡± the old man asked. Claudius leaned out of the body of the carriage, with a smile. The man¡¯s clothes were simple, a plain white tunic. His hat, Claudius recognized as the ones freed slaves wore.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m from the capital.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, sir, I apologize if I offended you.¡±


    ¡°No, you did not offend me.¡±


    The man did not utter a word. He picked up the lines and pulled them lightly, altering his hand grip to make his horses turn.


    ¡°Are you saying it because of my skin?¡± Claudius asked.


    ¡°I . . .¡± The man did not know how to ask. Claudius smiled but avoided laughing.


    ¡°Yes, my grandparents are from Habesha, a great kingdom south of the middle sea.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see, a great kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Yes, very far away. Never conquered.¡±


    The man turned his head back.


    ¡°So how did you end up as a patrician?¡± Claudius was not only a patrician, but also a senator at the top of the Itruschian elite. However, he did not believe that this made him better than others, only that it gave him more responsibility with his people.


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    ¡°Well, we did not live in the independent kingdoms of the south, but in the north. It was part of Itruschia. My father escaped from the south and grew in influence. He ended up directing the commerce between the independent Kingdom of Aksum and Libya. He became so rich that they had to give him citizenship. He sent us to be educated in Itruschia, and the rest is history.¡±


    ¡°Good, good.¡±


    ¡°He was also a slave at one point,¡± he said.


    The old man took a deep breath.


    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t care much about gold. I just want to live an honest and peaceful life. But to each his own.¡± The man glanced back at him.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°So that made you a patrician?¡±


    ¡°Part of it was his genius, part of it was marrying right. And more than just right, he had five wives.¡±


    ¡°One after the other? I¡¯m on my third.¡±


    ¡°Simultaneously.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that happens.¡±


    ¡°My name is Claudius Duodecimus. What about you, good sir?¡±


    ¡°Me? Grabus, no more, no less.¡±


    Grabus remained silent for a moment, guiding the horses to the side with a light flick of his whip.


    ¡°So you¡¯re the twelfth child?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I am. Twelfth of sixteen. I was born to Kletus Salis Mercator and Cornelia Aebutia.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re from the Aebutia family. Important family. So that¡¯s how you really became a patrician,¡± the man said with a hint of irony.


    ¡°And that could be. Really, I was just a lucky fellow in a way.¡±


    ¡°I have lived here all my life, worked and saved just to be free. That¡¯s all I wanted, to be free.¡±


    ¡°I wish all men were free,¡± Claudius said, looking out the window.


    ¡°You¡¯re a patrician and saying that? That¡¯s new.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen things.¡±


    ¡°Who hasn¡¯t seen things? You may have seen, but you haven¡¯t lived.¡±


    Those words felt a bit like the sting of a bee.


    ¡°I can¡¯t deny that.¡± He really had grown in wealth, never knowing misery, and yet he felt a deep compassion for others. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was his father¡¯s understanding of life or his instructors and their stoic philosophy. At least, he thought, he could bring freedom to the people of his land.


    ¡°And what were you doing here, Claudius Duodecimus?¡±


    ¡°I used to work with the Thracian governor, Larius Quintus.¡±


    ¡°I heard he died.¡±


    ¡°Yes, honestly, don¡¯t say this to anyone, but he made a big mess. A big mess. That village sank to the lowest point in Hades, and there¡¯s no way to get it back. A shame, really, I was working with them for a long time. They destroyed the people, the economy, etc.¡±


    ¡°I never understood why the governor wanted to settle in that province.¡±¡±He did it because he had a project that failed.¡± Cladius, like a million times before, felt his heart sink with what had happened. Part of him thought of the financial losses, which made him shudder in guilt, but the horror that was committed against innocent people had surely sunk Larius in Phlegethon, the fiery river that flowed living flames in the depths of Tartarus.


    ¡°So are you running away?¡± Grabus asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Cladius responded instinctively, raising his head.


    ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d start a life somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that. I came here because of my responsibility to them. I couldn¡¯t let this happen like this, and, listen, I cannot tell anyone what went on. It¡¯s horrible. It¡¯s horrible. I wish I could turn back time and repair what had been done, return things to how they were, but that damned Larius wanted to kill the people he wanted to kill, and everybody believed him. Can you believe that? Everybody in the damned Senatorial Hall believed his lying mouth.¡±


    ¡°Things happen,¡± the man said.


    Cladius leaned back on the carriage walls. The man was not as curious as he seemed to be. Cladius loved talking, but his own rant had left him with a bitter taste. There were other issues that weighed on his heart like an iron yoke. His wife Lukrezia and his children. He expected her to throw the biggest tantrum in both their lives, but he yearned to hold his children in his arms. Five months was not too long a time, but he wondered how tall his children had become and what new words little Lenna had learned.


    The travel was uneventful. Cladius slept at resting homes along the road, alone, and talked to traveling merchants. There, he heard of strange news and nightmarish visions spoken by oracles in distant cities. They said that the Sacred Itruschian Empire was at its last moments. Cladius couldn¡¯t believe his ears. Who would say that? Those foolish fears had prevailed fifteen years prior, during the height of the Barbarian Invasions, but at that point, the Empire was stronger than ever. Nothing could destroy the biggest empire in the world. Nothing could make it collapse.


    Or could it?

 Chapter XXVII - The Prisoners

    Florianus marched back toward the village, followed by his victorious company of three hundred men. The caravan advanced, with dozens of soldiers, infantry hoplites, and battering rams. A cage-shaped carriage rolled in the middle of the caravan, like those used to transport beasts from the Southern Continents. But this time, it carried captured women and men, all bound like cattle. Instead of being killed, they were spared, their lives preserved as much as those of their own soldiers, all for a grander and more meaningful purpose, a vision so immense that it couldn¡¯t be fully understood.


    These captives were symbols of chaos, of resistance against order, and therefore, they had to be made examples of. If the circumstances had been different, Florianus would have executed them quickly and without fanfare. A simple beheading in the town square would suffice, witnessed by the condemned individuals¡¯ relatives and friends. However, that wouldn¡¯t be necessary. The women of Adachia, although resentful and cruel, posed no more threat than a vengeful bee. No, Florianus had grander plans. He would send some of them to the heart of the Empire, to the great Itruschia of the Thousand Pillars.


    There, the traitor''s son would undergo public scourging, skinning, impalement, flaying, crucifixion, or any other fate chosen by his executioner. The woman who murdered her own husband would be dispatched to a rebellious province, perhaps the one in the South that experienced annual uprisings, to be presented in the Great Circus or to be devoured by beasts or publicly dishonored. Florianus was no torturer; he would leave that to the experts.


    As for the mute man who had killed three men, Florianus would keep him for himself. Perhaps, he thought, he would give him to the legionaries, those who had lost comrades at the hands of this murderous youth.


    He halted his trot to check on his prisoners, pulling the reins while his company continued their slow march. Gallantly, he approached the cage. Moving too quickly caused the cheek guards of his helmet to press against his wounded ear, now covered in bandages. He passed by the cage with a smirk, and the prisoners glared at him. If only the wooden bars didn''t separate them, they would have attempted to attack him. Savages. All he could do was laugh.


    The woman who had fought him at the camp intrigued him. Her physical features were uncommon among Gadalians and hinted at an eastern origin. He stole a glance at her and smiled cunningly, her dark hair cascading down her chest. Her body was exquisitely shaped, and he longed to possess her. What would it feel like to be desired by such an enemy woman?


    He spurred his horse onward. He had had a few mistresses before, and his late wife didn''t mind. However, the image of this woman was like a drug, coursing through his veins. Florianus took a deep breath and urged his horse forward, but couldn''t help looking back. And yet, he could not forgive himself. Desire was strong and overwhelmed his body. And yet, they were enemies. His mind went through different paths. He could not even take that flesh by force. He kept riding.


    "Sir, Overseer. Are you okay?" Julius, the centurion, asked him.


    "Yes," Florianus answered without looking back. He did not return to the front; instead, he pulled the reins, turning his horse around and rode back through the lines of riders that surrounded the carriage. He trotted toward the slave who walked next to a donkey loaded with bags of provisions.


    "Sir," the slave bowed his head low.


    "Avlix," Florianus muttered his name. "We have to have a talk." Avlix couldn''t wait. They were already close to the borderlands. He had to issue an order as soon as possible. "We had that pending talk. Now, confirm with me that you''re right."


    "Yes, my lord," Avlix said. "I am certain that the woman will march back with an army. All the barbarians knew that was where she was going. Now how many men, and how long it will take, we do not yet know."


    "Good," he said. But the thought remained in his mind, hammering away like a blacksmith. The slave did not know if the girl had been successful in recruiting others. That would be seen shortly, but for that, he had to prepare himself. He could not be caught off guard by a surprise attack, and the watchmen at the border wall had proven slow to carry the information.


    Florianus eyed his prisoners again. Although their execution would be saved for a later date, a good interrogation wouldn''t do harm when they got to the village. Florianus had made a fatal mistake; he had left no survivors except that slave. He could have gathered information on the barbarian army the girl had set out to contact.


    "My lord, I . . ." The slave kept his head low, but his voice was loud, as if pleading for life. "I beg you to consider my request."


    "We''ll see," Florianus said. He did not trust slaves. He''d had too many bad experiences with them. No matter how sincere, how lowly and submissive they acted, Florianus knew they could turn and slaughter them in an instant, especially if they were as persistent as Avlix.


    "Now tell me, Avlix. Tell me about that woman again."


    "Yes . . ." Avlix lowered his voice. "They call her Kassara, and she was their commander."


    "You told me that, tell me more . . . Did she talk of a family? Children? Daughters in the village?"


    "I overheard them, yes," the slave said. "She had a husband and a child or two. The husband was a warrior, the children, I don''t know how old. Not very old, not yet men, it seemed."


    "I see."


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    "My lord, may I ask why her?"


    "Slave! Do not be so insolent. You are still a slave, behave as such or I''ll cut off your head, bleach your skull, and put it on my bookshelf."


    "Understood," he said, his skin turning pale.


    "What else do you know?" Florianus asked.


    "I . . . Well, you see the man with the brown hair? The tall one?"Proofread the lightly:


    "Yes, he''s a traitor, and grandson of an old hexer. What about him?"


    "He''s a real magi."


    "A magi?"


    "Yes, my lord. I saw him use a spell to bring her back to life. The woman died. She stopped breathing. We were all held as prisoners when it happened. She . . . died. And he did some enchantment and she came back to life."


    Florianus narrowed his eyes, staring at the carriage and the head of the young traitor. His shoulder and the side of his head leaned against the wooden beams. He was muttering something, like a prayer or a spell. Florianus believed in magic, and those barbarians were famous for summoning evil demons and dragon spirits that brought havoc to the world. He had to be careful. Then, he caught a glimpse of something else. The young dark-haired boy remained hidden between the two women. His back hunched, looking down.


    "Sire . . ." Avlix continued. "Any information, anything you require of me. I will let you know. And please, when . . . When it is your will, please grant me my freedom."


    Florianus couldn''t help but laugh.


    "I told you, Avlix. We''ll see."


    Florianus trotted toward the chariot.


    "Stop! Stop!" he yelled at the soldier who was driving the carriage. He glanced back, confused, and halted his vehicle. Florianus advanced and situated his horse next to it. He clapped his hands, calling the attention of his prisoners.


    "Hey, boy, what do you have in there!" he yelled. The entire group looked at him through the bars, their necks and hands all bound with chains. The boy''s frown was prominent. "Yes, you, little scoundrel, I''m talking to your ugly face. Now, get up and show me what you were doing!" he said.


    The boy stared at him with narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, pure hatred emanating from his pupils.


    "Hey! I''m talking to you! Now get up or I''ll make the boys put you on the rack."


    The boy pulled out his hand, showing a small die.


    "You lying bastard. Boys!" He pointed at two soldiers who were marching closely, taking the key out of his pocket. "I want you to go inside and register the boy."


    The entire company halted, and the chatter of soldiers ceased immediately. Four soldiers stood behind him, and Florianus opened the cell with a creak.


    "Nobody move!" he shouted, pulling himself into the carriage. The prisoners remained pressed against the bars, while he and two guards made their way in. Each step creaked under his sandals. He stood before the child. "Come on!" Both guards grabbed the child by the arm. He contorted violently and stepped hard on the floor, his foot above an old blanket.


    "Move, you scum of the earth!" The soldiers pulled him.


    "Leave him!" Florianus heard a female voice ring through. He turned and saw one of the murderous rebels, a woman with dark blonde hair holding a baby in her arms. He looked at her with disgust. "What is this woman saying?" Florianus asked, his voice filled with hate. He strode forward, with the men and women in the chariot staring at him in awe. The woman turned slightly, protecting her baby.


    Florianus was determined, so he reached out and pulled the woman closer to him, even as she clung tightly to her baby, fear evident on her face. He grabbed the baby from her arms, gripping it by the legs.


    "Stop!" he heard her allies scream, both men and women, as the sound of metal chains clanking filled the air. The baby began to cry. Florianus glanced at the infant, his eyes sparkling blue, noting its small and seemingly inconsequential body.


    "Let the baby go or you will regret it!" a voice he recognized declared. It was the woman who fought. Florianus tightened his hold on the baby. The prisoners struggled to get closer, but their movements were restricted by the chains around their necks and hands. With both arms, Florianus held the baby, pulling it towards his bronze cuirass. The cries of the child grew as loud as the sound of an iron carriage on a rocky road.


    "Back off!" one of the soldiers warned, brandishing his spear at the prisoners.


    "Now listen carefully, all of you!" Florianus called out. "I never intended to harm this child, but if you hide things from me, he will be taken away as well."


    "Leave him alone! He has done nothing!" the tall boy protested.


    "Enough with your savagery!" Kassara exclaimed. Florianus stared at her, took a step back, and offered the child back to its mother. The cries gradually subsided as she held the baby against her breast and began to feed it.


    "I will show mercy to your child," Florianus stated. "So stop this madness or I will change my mind. You can keep him until the last moments before your death, if you behave. So, cease your actions and listen."


    He turned away again, walking towards the silent boy. The boy stared defiantly as one of the guards pointed a glistening lance at him. A patterned blanket lay on the floor, old and covered in dust. Florianus knelt down and lifted it, revealing two small books on the carriage floor.


    "Ha! Who would have thought these barbarians could read?" Florianus lifted one of the books and opened it, noticing scribbles on the borders. It was all in the barbarian''s language, not the Itruschian script.


    "What is this? Battle plans?"


    "Poetry!" the tall man exclaimed."We''ll see about that," Florianus said. "This will be useful." He turned around and climbed down from the chariot. He went through the pages of the first. Most of them were empty. Then, he went for the next book, a small and thin tome of decaying pages. He opened it and felt his heart jump like a rabbit. It was written in the ancient Hellenian script. He raised an eyebrow and kept scrolling through the pages. Through the text, he saw words that made him narrow his eyes and read attentively. Talk of giants, of a sword. One of the pages had the drawing of a sword in an exotic style. Extremely long, its crosshead was wide, as if made for trapping enemy swords. Two jewels in it. Around it, a magical circle, one he recognized. Around it, scribblings made in Itruschian alphabet, in somebody else''s handwriting.


    But one of them made him shudder. The Circle of the Protector, the very same symbol was drawn beneath a human figure. It was not as clear nor recognizable as the one in his book, but it was the same.


    He turned around. "What is this? Where did you find that?" he asked, looking back at the carriage.


    "It''s not your business, you fool," Kassara screamed from the cage.


    "Shut it. Tell me or I''ll eviscerate you." He walked toward the boy, yelling at him through the bars. "You better tell me now, you disgusting lizard."


    "It''s been inherited from our Elders," the tall traitor said. "Nothing to do with battles. It''s just an old book on mythology."


    "The sword of Ares? The bane of the Giants? I have heard of this! This is the conspiracy your people developed in order to overthrow us. We know about that . . ."


    But something in the book puzzled him. What was that magical circle and why was it also on the ancient Parzian book that stood in his library?


    He had no time to deal with those partisans.


    "I''ll take this," he said, jumping and mounting his horse. "Now let''s get going, people!" he yelled, and the march started again.

 Chapter XXVIII - Northern Hordes

    Ira''s old friends were, by definition, bandits. Sturdy men who belonged to Suevian tribes and their relatives, but that had been cast out for being on opposing sides, for corruption and cattle theft.


    Alana rode side by side with the tough Adachian soldiers. That boy, Elkas, deliberately rode next to her, eyeing her constantly. Even on horseback, with Ira guiding the horse, she could barely reach his shoulders. He was more handsome than the old Atila. His hair was slightly curly, and by then, without the constant presence of the centurion, it was a bit longer than how Itruschian soldiers usually wore it.


    ¡°So tell me more,¡± he said to her, with his square lips on a clean shaven face, his chin was strong, with a slight cleft, cheekbones high, eyes clear blue and wide.


    Ira turned. ¡°What?"


    ¡°Sorry, I was talking to Miss Alana.¡±


    ¡°Ah, no problem,¡± Ira muttered. ¡°Maybe her husband wouldn''t mind.¡±


    ¡°Husband?" Elkas blinked in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re joking, aren¡¯t you?"


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Ira said. ¡°She''s happily married.¡±


    Alana took a deep breath.


    ¡°Who did you marry?¡± Elkas asked. ¡°It''s been a convenient marriage, hasn''t it? What happened, Alana?"


    ¡°It''s Kassius, son of Mariusz,¡± Alana declared.


    ¡°The son of Mariusz? How come? I always thought he was just your best friend but . . .¡±


    Alana blinked. She was surprised to know that Elkas knew about Kassius. She barely knew his name, but it seemed as though he knew everything about her.


    ¡°We needed to survive,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°So it wasn''t even a convenience thing, was it?" Elkas asked. ¡°Temporary circumstances pushed you to do it. It was just survival. So if what you''re saying is true, there was no ceremony . . . No nothing.¡±


    Alana took a deep breath. ¡°Elkas, there was no ceremony, but still, we''re married.¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± he said. ¡°No ceremony, no registry, it¡¯s not valid.¡±


    Alana narrowed her eyes. Was Elkas really that desperate? He knew boys would often lie, pretending they were sincerely interested in order to bed the girl of their choice. She had not expected that of Elkas.


    ¡°Boy, marriage is marriage, so stop pestering this girl and go back to your own business,¡± Ira muttered, fixing him with a freezing glance.


    ¡°Now is it, really?¡± Elkas glanced at them with a crooked smile. ¡°You¡¯ve been on the run for this long, without a ceremony, without the blessings of a traditional conjugal life. I could even bet that you are still a virgin.¡±


    Alana felt blood rush toward her face. ¡°What in the world?" Alana asked.


    ¡°Elkas, what kind of thing is that to say?" Ira asked. ¡°Is it within decorum to ask a young lady about what she does with her husband?"


    ¡°What''s wrong with that?"


    ¡°And let me tell you something, Alana and Kassius are husband and wife. Guess what that means. Yes, they were doing husband and wife things every day.¡±


    ¡°Ira . . .¡± Alana cleared her throat, she hid her face behind Ira¡¯s back.


    ¡°Well, fine, I did not mean to offend her.¡± Elkas pretended to smile.


    ¡°And what did you do this time, Elkas? Were the Suevian ladies of the night enough to keep you satisfied? You won¡¯t touch this girl, no, I¡¯ll make sure you stay away from her.¡±


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough,¡± he said. ¡°I was just asking.¡± He scratched the back of his ears, pressed tightly against the neck guard of his galea. ¡°Boy, you''re bitter¡ª¡±


    ¡°I''m not bitter.¡± Ira furrowed her brow.


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s fine," Alana said. ¡°Stop fighting! These things are not relevant now. We must think of how to deal with the Itruschians and the giants. Everything else is irrelevant. Understand? Not important. And I won''t talk about it.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Elkas said. ¡°I was just¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just stop, Elkas! And you too, Ira. I don¡¯t like you talking about my personal life like that. What do you even know?"


    She took a deep breath, and both the other two were silent.


    ¡°Is anyone hungry?" Ira asked.


    ¡°I am,¡± Alana muttered.


    ¡°Hey, Fritgern!¡± Ira clapped her hands. The company of riders stopped. ¡°What?" the chief of the bandits pulled the reins to turn his horse around.


    ¡°We want to rest for a few minutes,¡± Alana announced.


    ¡°Now?" the chief growled, then tensed his teeth in frustration.


    ¡°These women and their whims . . .¡± muttered one of the bandits.


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Fritgern yelled.


    ¡°I say we keep going . . .¡± Askar said.


    ¡°Come on Askar, we¡¯ve been riding far longer than you. Let us rest for a bit,¡± Ira said.


    ¡°What do you mean come on?¡± Askar said. ¡°We''re wasting time. Your troops will be waiting for you while we eat ham and sausage. One rest a day is enough.¡±


    ¡°He''s right!¡± said one of the bandits. ¡°Hey I don''t complain, we''ve been marching and marching. Why not have a good time to rest?¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Askar kept saying. ¡°We can''t remain here! We have to . . .¡±


    A black figure flashed before their eyes, it clanked on Askar''s helmet. Askar paused for an instant.


    ¡°What was¡ª¡± Alana muttered. When she turned around, the bandits were already forming, circling around them, when the rain of black arrows poured down. Ira turned around, the soldiers were lucky enough to be carrying those huge Itruschian shields, but were soon covered in arrows.


    ¡°Damn! I should have brought a shield,¡± Ira said, as Alana pulled back and Ira reached for her bow. It was strung already, Alana crouched slightly, pressing her cheek against Ira''s back, grasping tightly. She was wearing only light chain mail, beneath the cloak. She pulled down her hood.


    Askar and Adna formed around them, covering them, raising their shields high.


    ¡°Who are they?" Alana asked, without looking up.


    ¡°Blast!¡± Ira shouted. ¡°Your friend''s best friends.¡± She lowered her voice again. ¡°It''s an Itruschian phalanx. There''s a lot of them.¡±


    ¡°Elkas son of Hamher, Askar of Adachia, Adna of Adachia. Kitarus of Adachia, Yurlus of Kaiv, teaming up with mere bandits,¡± a deep voice echoed, in a deep Itruschian accent. ¡°Yield yourselves now, or we¡¯ll capture you and the high command will decide what to do.¡±


    Elkas raised his head.


    ¡°Jovius,¡± he shouted in rage. ¡°What the feck are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°What do you have to say, Elkas? Better say it. Meet your new Decurion.¡±


    ¡°You abandoned us!¡± Elkas said, slightly lowering his shield. ¡°We wanted to warn you! We . . .¡±


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    ¡°Your lies and conspiracies will cost you dearly. Now yield yourselves.¡±


    ¡°No, Jovius, you lower your arrows before you do something stupid. You don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    Alana raised her face. There was no immediate danger in negotiations. Above her, on the small hills that surrounded the road, there were more than a dozen Itruschian soldiers. Six pointed bows at them, other six wielding javelins and large shields. Behind, she counted sixteen cavalry men. Too many. Alana knew that if they were to fight, they would be in disadvantage. Only the few soldiers there would be able to hold a shield formation, and were out of range with the horses. Victory was unlikely. Her eyes darted around, thinking of a possible solution.


    ¡°What do we do, Ira?¡±


    Ira hushed her. ¡°Listen.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so not yielding,¡± the decurion muttered. ¡°Your choice. Thus, there will be no judgement, only execution.¡±


    ¡°Now, you listen to me!¡± Elkas raised his shield. ¡°You, Yurkas, Karvatus, Umras, brothers of Adachia. Listen. Our families have been massacred. We received the news the Itruschians themselves massacred our people. We are now marching to regain our land.¡±


    Alana lowered her head.


    ¡°Your lies have been proven false once before,¡± Jovius snapped. ¡°No one believes you, fool.¡±


    But she knew. If those people were Gadalian, even though she hadn''t yet seen them, her presence would help.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Alana raised her head and pulled the hood back. I am Alana of Adachia. Your neighbour.¡± She looked up again, and recognized some familiar faces. ¡°It is me, and I came to warn these people!¡±


    ¡°So it is you!¡± the new decurion shouted. ¡°better for me. Gentlemen, these women must be taken alive. The blonde is a known agitator. She is the one who murdered the governor of Tharcia.¡±


    Elkas turned around, raising an eyebrow. Alana nodded silently.


    ¡°I did,¡± Alana yelled. ¡°Because he ordered the slaughter of our people. Your , your fathers and brothers were all killed. You know me! You know I wouldn¡¯t lie, and I call you, Jovius son of whoever it is, a traitor to your own people!¡±


    ¡°Lies!¡± Jovius cried.


    A few of the soldiers lowered their weapons, unsure. She could see the confusion in their eyes, others stared at each other.


    ¡°Do not listen to her,¡± Jovius shouted. ¡°She is a liar. Now, attack, attack to kill, it¡¯s an order.¡±


    She cleared her throat.


    Elkas pulled the reins of his horse. He took out his bow and aimed up.


    ¡°I don''t want to hurt you, brothers, please. Understand!¡± he shouted.


    The bows were aimed at them.


    Elkas spurred, his horse sprung forward, bow and arrow in hand, he aimed up at the decurion and let the arrow loose.


    Alana watched attentively.


    An arrow brushed past her side.


    Another arrow whirled and hit Elkas'' horse. It rose on two legs. The bandits rode up with their maces and axes, clashing against the shields and spears of the Legion.


    ¡°Ride on!¡± Elkas shouted.


    Ira aimed and shot two of the soldiers, but the decurion had faded into the woods. She rode onward. The horse jumped quickly over the small cliff, and Ira quickly hung her bow to the strap attached to her back and drew her sword. Two cavalry men were waiting, their lances drawn. Ira''s blade circled around their spears and reached one of their necks, piercing through, then, she turned around and swung her blade at another other soldier. He blocked with the shield.


    Suddenly, Alana felt a pull in her lower back, like the sting of a bee. A six inch long bee.


    She gasped, as pain surged on the lower left quarter of her back, an inch left of her spine.


    She moaned, instinctively holding on to Ira, and started panting.


    ¡°Ira . . . They got me,¡± she gasped.


    ¡°Alana, hold on!¡±


    Alana clenched her teeth as the pain became greater. Moving slightly intensified the feeling of something stuck in her back, and the pain inside her skin throbbed, pulling her flesh into the wound. She thought one of his internal organs might have been damaged. What would happen then? She kept breathing fast, fearing she would die. She wouldn''t see the victory of her people. Could she even trust in the gods? What could she do to survive? Alana clenched her fists, pulling Ira''s dress, and groaned.


    Ira kept fighting. Around her, many of the soldiers had already dismounted and were


    ¡°Hold on, Alana.¡±


    Her insides pained more with each second, and with every sudden movement of the horse, the arrow on her back wobbled and fractionated against her organs and flesh. Alana let out another groan.


    ¡°Take a deep breath, Alana. Where did they hit you?¡±


    ¡°The back,¡± she said.


    ¡°Keep breathing,¡± Ira said.


    Alana rested her face against Ira, and tears started flowing down.


    Then, another arrow buzzed near them.


    And another. Tistirya lost its balance. Alana knew that sensation before, and she begged for it not to happen again.


    But the horse started to lean to the side, Alana held on tightly, but Ira pushed her hands away and jumped out, rolling on the soil. The horse then tumbled down, and Alana fell on her side. She crawled out, with the Sword of Ares on her back, the dragonblade pressing against her leg. She gasped. Around her, the battle raged on, Ira was enraged, her pale face had turned red, she waved her blade around, and yet, some of the ones who had been fighting against them, had turned on their leaders, now attacking the troop. Alana was confused. They were all wearing the same armour and uniform. Most of them she could also recognize from the village. She turned her head, and then, from afar, she saw two dark eyes through the bushes.


    She took a deep breath.


    ¡°Listen!¡± she screamed.


    She forced her arms to push her body up, and with a groan, she untied the sword of Ares. Its green Emerald shone, casting its green light through the shadowy grove.


    ¡°Listen!¡± she said with a cough. But the battle still raged.


    ¡°Listen to her, you damn traitors!¡± Ira shouted with all her might.


    The emerald sparkled, illuminating the forest around them.


    ¡°You all have heard the legend of the Sword. The . . . The legends are real. This sword holds the Gem that battled the giants. The giants are real.¡±


    Their attention  on the sword. Alana lifted it high.


    ¡°You know me! I was the daughter of Alan, you knew him.¡± Alana groaned again. ¡°He . . . He is dead. My father is dead. Your father is dead, I remember you. They''re all dead. They''re . . . They''re all dead. I swear upon my father''s life. But . . . the Sword is with us.¡±


    ¡°Hail Alana of Adachia!¡± Ira said, raising her blade, defiant and unafraid of the soldiers around her.


    ¡°Hail Alana of Adachia,¡± said Elkas.


    ¡°No, no!¡± A voice emerged from the woods. Alana turned, it was the decurion. He had his gladius drawn, reflecting the green emerald light. It was the Sword of Ares. ¡°This woman is a deceiver.¡±


    His sturdy legs advanced swiftly. He was running at her, his sword forward, which he pulled back, as if to slice her head. Alana fell to her side in an attempt to crawl out.


    Then, the man stopped in mid air, he tripped and fell on one knee. An arrow had pierced through his segmented armour, right into his stomach. He stumbled back, opening his mouth wide and gasping.


    ¡°Hail Alana of Adachia!¡± said one of the soldiers.


    The bandits exchanged glances and shrugged. Alana stumbled forward, and faded to black.


    ***


    Alana opened her eyes and gasped. Sharp pain pulsated through her back, but the arrowhead had been removed. It was night, and a few stars filtered its light through the deep foliage. Chatter and the sound of burning wood blanketed her. The battle was over. Alana raised her torso, groaning at the pain. It was not yet gone. He saw the men who had fought to the death sharing meat and wine, laughing and telling stories. Some sharing their mourning, others weeping for their parents. But behind the living flames of the bonfire, she saw Ira and Elkas sitting together. Both laughed sincerely, as if one of them was saying the funniest joke in the world. She was holding long iron pincers, holding pieces of cheese over the fire, and winked an eye at Alana when she saw her.


    Alana shook her head and passed her hand around the wound on her back.


    Elkas muttered something in Ira¡¯s ear and jumped to his feet. He had taken off his shirt. His body was shaped like a  statue. His shoulders were broad, as round as balls of cast iron, and his stomach was as perfectly square as a cast cuirass armour of bronze. Seeing him laughing with Ira felt strange. On one hand, they both seemed happy, on the other, and she felt guilty for that. Elkas looked like a god.


    ¡°Are you feeling better?¡± Elkas asked, approaching her with a smile.


    ¡°Hey! You''re finally awake!¡± said another soldier. He had piercing green eyes, a round face with a triangular chin. His hair was orange like a pumpkin. It was Raxana¡¯s brother.


    ¡°Ira is asking if you want to eat,¡± Elkas said.


    ¡°Sure,¡± Alana muttered, and a creak came out of her mouth instead of her usual voice.


    Elkas approached and extended a hand. Alana grasped his, and he pulled her gently up.


    ¡°So,¡± the redheaded soldier said. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting to talk to you. Tell me about my sister.¡±


    ¡°Raxana?¡± Alana answered with a long whisper. ¡°She¡¯s fine. She¡¯s at Varalkia now.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± the boy said. ¡°She did not get hurt in battle?¡±


    ¡°No, she¡¯s perfect. She is a great warrior.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s in the blood,¡± he said proudly.


    ¡°Excuse me one moment,¡± she said to him, with her head low. Her blonde hair covered her eyes and face. She looked slightly up. Her stomach roared and she felt nauseated.


    Ira signalled her to come. She had a wide smile on her face. Alana blinked and advanced, squinting an eye, with one hand pressed against her bandaged wound.


    Ira offered her grilled cheese. Alana took it with a smile and nibbled it hungrily.


    ¡°Are you feeling okay?¡± Ira whispered.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Alana muttered with her mouth full.


    ¡°Good, stay like that. It was hard to get that arrow out. The arrowhead popped out of the stick. Please take care.¡±


    ¡°I''ll be fine. I¡¯ve been through worse.¡±


    ¡°Take care. Now we have to stay together. I explained the story to the boys and it''s good that they all know what¡¯s going on. They believe you. They¡¯ll be with us. Along with the bandits, we have forty-six people. All of them great warriors.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know,¡± Alana said, holding on to Ira¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Does it hurt?"


    ¡°Of course it does . . . I . . . I''m still bleeding.¡±


    ¡°That''s fine, it will stop.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I''ll let you rest for a while.¡± Ira stood up.


    ¡°I¡¯ve rested plenty. Ira, listen,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?"


    ¡°Can you come closer?"


    Ira knelt beside her. Alana sighed and shut her eyes for an instant.


    ¡°I think I''m fine,¡± she declared. ¡°It''s just something that''s been bothering me for a while. Since it happened I sometimes feel dizzy.¡±


    ¡°What is it?"


    She lowered her voice. ¡°You know, we girls bleed every so often, once a month. You know what I''m talking about, right?"


    Ira nodded.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s stopped for me for a few months. I . . . I mean, it''s weird that it stopped. Do you think that''s normal? I mean, Zita told me it was just normal to bleed every . . . Ira?¡±


    Ira''s eyes opened wide, and her jaw dropped.

 Chapter XXIX – Under the Heel of the Giants

    A week of travel had taken its toll on the troops. The prisoners were fed the leftovers of the army food, and were starting to show muscle degradation. Soon, they  at the gates of the village. The borders had been reinforced with troops that had been stationed in the small nearby villages before. Residents of those villages were ordered to burn their crops and evacuate to the provincial capital.


    The days went by, and Florianus prepared his stronghold, assembling the battle troops. He would wait at Adachia, but expected the soldiers at the border to defend and capture the foreign invaders, especially the leader of the revolutions.


    After six days of preparation, a messenger came, riding in haste through the forest and hills.


    ¡°Sir, they broke through the borders, our forces retreated!¡±


    ¡°How many?" he asked. ¡°How many barbarians!¡±


    ¡°Thirty thousand.¡±


    ¡°We''ll be waiting for them,¡± Florianus said, sure of his victory.


    Most of the province had been mobilized in that time, bringing Thrachian cavalry, twenty thousand strong. He posted them over the hills and in the forests, creating a big contention camp after the river, making sure they had no access to it. A watchtower now towered over the village''s smith shop. A curfew was set, violation of which resulted in imprisonment, in a different cell than the one where the prisoners languished. And Florianus waited.


    Florianus did not care for inhumane conditions for his prisoners. He had commanded the construction of a proper prison. Human suffering was not his thing; death was, however, sometimes necessary.


    The prisoners were housed in small cells beneath the ground of the old chieftain''s dining hall. There, they rested and were fed leftovers from the army, again.


    Their sight was pitiful, but Florianus was proud that they had finally been captured. He had to deal with disgruntled widows asking how they were doing. The old woman who was friends with Cladius begged to see her daughter from the beginning. Florianus refused.


    In those days, he studied the books he took from the rebels. He procured a translation from the Hellenian text and the young boy¡¯s writings. The language of the Gadalians was similar to Parzian, with which he was familiar. In the writings of the boy, he found nothing but squabblings of a man learning to read and write, and later, some mediocre pieces of poetry dedicated to the blonde woman.


    But the other book was intriguing. The one containing the Seal of the Protector. A hexagram encased in a circle, with spiral arms and angles around it. He took the time to study it, although his reading of Hellenian was a bit rusty. Its title, according to the Hellenian book, was Seal of Containment. It said the God Mars had used it against the Dragon of the Sky. Yes, that had to be it. The rebels had intended to use its magical powers against him. Not if he used its righteous powers against them. After all, they were the true heirs of the Dragon, and that was how they called themselves.


    He thought the circle was used to summon spiritual energy and curse their adversaries. He would have to keep it away, hoping they could not recreate it.


    A knock echoed behind him.


    ¡°Sir, a message from the watchtower. The armies have been spotted west of the river. They''ll be here shortly.¡±


    Florianus scoffed; it was time.


    ¡°Come in!¡± he shouted, the door opened timidly, and a young soldier leaned in. ¡°Get the prisoners,¡± Florianus said. ¡°Chain them in the neck and arms, march them under an iron yoke, to the top of the hill. There, I shall negotiate with the barbarians.¡±


    ¡°Sire, but how do we¡ª¡±


    ¡°Go, do not question me. This is the way we will deal with it.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± He nodded, and disappeared through the door.  was left once again with the silence of his quarters.


    That day, blood would be spilled. He assembled his equipment, he looked at the necklace with the Winged Disk, the sign of the triumph of order and righteousness. That night, righteousness had to win. He walked to his wooden stand and donned the bronze cuirass armour of his grandfather. The shape of a muscular torso was forged into it, with golden straps dangling from beneath, covering the skirts of his toga.


    Lastly, he removed his battle helmet from the stand, and cupped it in his arms. He marched out of his office.


    The city was deserted, except for the soldiers that guarded every street, making sure the women did not come out. A strangely fierce wind blew, ragging the purple and orange clouds at sunset, lifting up fallen leaves and howling with the trees.


    Two rows of prisoners stood outside. Their bodies beaten, their clothes partly ripped. Their necks were tied and supported by an iron yoke, with chains on the sides that were  by two  soldiers.


    Florianus walked toward them, inspecting the downtrodden eyes and fiery countenances.


    ¡°They''re coming. And we¡¯ll welcome them with iron and flame,¡± he said.


    ¡°I knew she would come!¡± Kassara shouted, gladly staring at the setting sun, where the first glimpses of the vast Barbarian army peeked at the edge of the horizon. Florianus looked at her.


    ¡°I did not address you.¡±


    ¡°Whoever you are,¡± Kassara muttered, looking up at him and fixing him with her dark eyes. ¡°They will take this town. The gods are with us, they have been since the beginning. Their power is superior, their numbers are superior, and their skill is unmatched. You shall lose, so better yield yourself first.¡±


    Florianus spat on the floor.


    ¡°I know those men. I know the sons of Hunaz. All they are looking for is gold that they will not have. Some of you, I shall give as an offering, but not you, nor the mute, nor the boy. The others may go.¡±


    Some of them sighed, including the pregnant mother. He walked up to her and glanced with the corner of his eye.


    ¡°Your child will be raised by me,¡± he said. ¡°He shall be raised in civilization and discipline. You should be thankful.¡±


    ¡°You monster!¡± the woman cried with all the energy she had left in her frail body.


    ¡°Monster? A monster would have killed it.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even know who you are!¡± the woman yelled. ¡°You talk about civilization and barbarism, what is more barbaric than slaughtering an entire village. Taking my son away.¡±


    ¡°What do you know about civilization? Now . . . understand, in case, only in case they were to penetrate our lines, only then you shall be killed. If not, the plan is still the same. I shall send you to be executed. Either way, you die for your crimes.¡±


    No one answered.


    ¡°Silence? Are those your final words to the man who captured you?"


    ¡°What do you want? Do you want us to thank you?" the tall traitorous boy muttered.


    Florianus strode towards him. He stepped forward, looking at him in his weary eyes, now bulgy and sunken. He stepped back, as he reeked like a dead man.


    He contained his breath.


    ¡°You are the lowest being on this planet. You were raised and fed by an honorable man. I cannot imagine how he feels.¡±


    ¡°Where is my grandfather?" Kassius asked.


    ¡°The old sorcerer? What do you care?"


    ¡°Tell me how he is. That¡¯s all I need to know.¡±


    ¡°And my mother!¡± Irema shouted.


    Florianus scoffed and turned his back on them, he ordered the soldiers to take them. They nodded and grasped the heavy chains.


    ¡°Tell us!¡± Kassius shouted. ¡°I just want to know if he¡¯s . . .¡±


    And Florianus walked away, breathing deeply. His servants had his horse ready, black in color, short and sturdy, good for short range battle, unlike the huge stallions the barbarians raised. Its head and body were shielded by plate armour. Florianus held his lance in hand and spurred. The troops were ready. He rode downhill, passing by the sanctuary where the old man, the boy¡¯s grandfather was under strict surveillance. He could not deny he felt a bit of pity for the young man. But he could not waste time on that. His troops were waiting, many forming around the village. He rode through the forest trail. From every angle, he could see the vast army that gathered against them. A foreign army of strange and frightening customs. A barbaric lifestyle and low honor and morality.


    He rode to the forefront, with Julius and other officers standing tall on their horses next to him. The Eagle stood beside their formations. To the left, there was a vast line of infantrymen and mounted elite cavalry. Behind them, a line of archers, the best in the province, some of Kaltanian extraction, some of the old Thrachian, already assimilated into the customs of the Empire, all ready to fight.


    The barbarians came, with the first lines consisting of mounted archers. As always, they were incapable of coming up with other ideas or strategies. Their skills were developed to perfection but they were incapable of innovation.


    With his hand raised, he advanced alone. The enemy army stopped; their steps and the sound of the hooves no longer echoed in the vast lands. Their generals advanced, followed by heralds, all holding the same triangular flag, and each with the flag of their unit.


    They rode on and gathered at the front of the battlefield. Florianus and Julius advanced until they met. Four barbarian generals, as if they all represented different generations. Or maybe they were from the same family, as they all looked similar. All dark and swarthy, all broad-faced, their eyes with the same attractive but unfamiliar slant. Their beards were all sparse and weak.


    "Men of Hunaz. I am Florianus, descendant of the house of Jove, and Overseer of this Province''s defense."


    "Are you the best they could find?" the youngest general asked, of regular stature and no facial hair. "I do not mean to disrespect, but we expected a better welcome. Your border troops did not even hold us for one day. What do you think, Gharkan?"


    "Yes," another young general said, this one short and swarthy. "They''re less than amateurs. I''m frankly quite disappointed. Is this the most powerful Empire on Earth? Well, it looks like it''s a bit emaciated lately. What do you say, old man?"


    "Well, the standards have frankly decreased," said another general about Florianus'' age.


    Florianus took a deep breath, trying not to lose his cool. They were bluffing, nothing more.


    "How many men did we lose on the border?" said the one called Gharkan. "Did you count?"


    "Oh, yes, we lost about forty people. They were all slaves, so they don''t count."


    Florianus chuckled.


    "I believe we have nothing to discuss," Florianus said. "I was intending to let you march in peace. I just needed the blonde girl. I could give you three of the prisoners and let you go. See? They''re at the top of the hill."


    "We don''t care for prisoners," Gharkan said with a grin. "Us? Go away? Do you mean we came all the way here for nothing? No way!"


    Florianus cleared his throat.


    "Where is the blonde?"


    "The blonde? You''re going to have to try harder," said Gharkan. "A forty-year-old man going crazy for a sixteen-year-old girl. What is this? Aren''t there more girls in this Empire of yours?"


    "Stop bluffing and tell me, are you willing to negotiate?"


    "Negotiate? That''s for sissies."


    "So be it. I will sew your mouths shut after we''re done.""Well, make the trip worth it, flower man!" cried the young Gharkan. Florianus clenched his teeth and fists as he rode back to camp.


    "Sir, they''re only bluffing!" Julius said.


    "I know, but I''ll make them swallow their words," Florianus said, teeth clenched.


    Florianus could not be intimidated. He had better weapons and more men. No, he had not lost a battle in a decade, and he had earned his position through good strategy. He could not lose. Quietly, he returned to his post, raising his hand and making a gesture. At the same time, the enemy raised their bows, ready to release their arrows.


    Florianus'' commanders were quick. Their equipment was swift.


    They released; great rocks and balls of cast iron fell through the sky. Florianus'' catapults launched them like falling stars, crushing the barbarians like forest cockroaches.


    The enemy arrows were released, and Florianus shielded his head and his horse''s under his shield. The defensive phalanxes had already formed, saving many from the attack.


    A line of archers hid behind the first mounted section, strategically waiting for a sign. The commanders signaled, and fiery arrows flew from the hills like celestial punishment, destined to seek vengeance upon the enemy. The arrows pierced through their padded shoulders, igniting their capes and tunics, setting carriages ablaze. Soon after, the barbarians unleashed their wicked arrows, aiming above the second line of soldiers.


    Florianus knew their strategy well, they knew where to strike to penetrate the second line. Florianus held his shield high, along with the cavalry also formed to defend. The onslaught of arrows pounded his shield.


    "Again," he said, lowering his shield once more. And the archers prepared again. Another volley of arrows was released from the hills. Florianus smiled as he witnessed dozens of barbarians falling to the ground or riding with their breastplates on fire, others rolling down, and horses collapsing.


    Once again, he heard the thundering rumble of the catapult, and balls of fire fell upon the fleeting horsemen, crushing groups of them to the ground.


    And yet, the barbarians continued to ride forward. In the first row, Florianus could distinguish lancers and javelin throwers. On the side, along the hill, he saw mounted archers.


    Their archers shot for a third time, targeting the front row, and another handful of barbarians fell, their bodies crashing down from their horses, their beasts collapsing to the sides.


    But the barbarian cavalry advanced, riding on, almost ready to clash against the first row of Itruschian defenders. Florianus waited behind the first section, knowing it was time to employ different strategies."Tortoise!" Florianus shouted. The infantrymen on the sides got ready, rushing to stand ahead of the cavalrymen, shoulder to shoulder, shield to shield, holding the pila as spears between them. Every second soldier held the shield over their heads, to defend himself and his comrades from projectiles, waiting for the enemy.


    "Throw!" he shouted.


    The soldiers holding the shield horizontally lowered their left hands and threw their short javelins at the incoming barbarians. Florianus could not see how many had fallen, but he was confident in the strategy. The barbarians started to shoot their arrows from there. Florianus saw how some of his men in the first line succumbed, being replaced by the ones holding their shields up. Soon after, the barbarian horde clashed against their shields, when now the first line of defence threw their javelins at the riders. The real battle had begun. A barbarian pushed his spear through one of the soldier''s skulls; it came out the other way, dripping blood. He retrieved his spear and rode triumphantly through the defending legionaries. He had been the first to break through. But the second line of legionaries was waiting, and a brave soldier threw his spear, piercing the savage''s neck.


    A few Itruschian heroes perished, making way for the sons of Hunaz. The second row of legionaries defended their position bravely, thus wasting the enemy''s patience and energy. The great warriors of Itruschia kept assembling, strengthening the second row, but the invading horde was too numerous and wild. They would soon pass through the first two rows. Florianus turned his horse around and rode out through the stone bridge, pulling the reins and turning around to ride toward the Itruschian cavalry. They awaited, their eyes serious, rather sad, observing how their comrades succumbed. Still, there were a few more rows of legionaries defending the riverside. The enemy had to get through the bridge. They were more numerous; they could not lose to those barbarians.


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    But still, Florianus feared what had happened fifteen years ago. Yes, nomads had proven themselves in battle before. Perhaps he had underestimated them.


    He clenched his teeth. Yes, he had. So foolish of him, he should have requested more assistance. He would be humiliated. If he died, he would be remembered as the man who lost Adachia.


    He wouldn''t allow it.


    He rode furiously, gazing at his mounted troops. A long line of warriors, javelin attached to their saddles, long spears in hand along with their shields."Brave men of Itruschia. Fifteen years ago, a hundred thousand barbarians swept over our borders and massacred millions. They rode to our great capital. They burned down our villages, raped our women, and murdered our children. Our late general Larius and I both lost brothers and dear friends to those savages. I lost my only son. Now it''s time to fight. Ours is the greatest line of defense. Five thousand of us, with superior shields, superior strategy. Even if we are to die, I swear upon this iron sword that they shall not pass! Send these words to the rest of the legion."


    "Aye!" they responded, their spears held high. The centurions rode on and shared the speech with the farthest sections.


    Then, their enemy passed through the second line and poured into the bridge. From above the Sanctuary to the Hero, hidden in the bushes, another line of archers shot at the wicked barbarians. A line of infantrymen awaited on the other shore, their shields clasped together, their javelins flying through the air and piercing their uncouth armors.


    Florianus saw them attempt to cross over to the other side, through the other bridge. And yet, they did not know the ditches and traps he had set for them.


    It was time to advance.


    The battle raged on. Florianus knew they had been weakened. And then, he saw what he had waited for long - the legionaries were pushing them back to where they came from. They marched in close formations, and the barbarians started to disperse. It was a sign that the battle was not absolutely lost.


    But the enemy reformed their ranks and attacked once again, this time, they pierced through. The phalanx was completely obliterated, they rode on, their mounted archers quickly taking down the ones posted above the sanctuary.


    "Ready!" he said, calling on his cavalry unit. "Charge!" he shouted, and he led, his spear forward, ready to meet the enemy lancers and archers. Both armies clashed on the small piece of charred land, but why . . . How could it be . . . Florianus feared their blades. Their arrows too precise, even on their mounts, pierced through the vital organs of Itruschian warriors. Their spears were too fierce. And they kept riding, impaling the fallen ones, destroying the lancers and cavalrymen. The defense of Thrachia was falling.


    As their cavalry fell back, Florianus and his men retreated to the hills. He was one of the last, as he had been at the very front of the battle. The barbarians scattered, trying to reach the heights of the valley, and then, the furtive arrows of the Itruschian elite pierced through them. From the forest, from the heights, the Itruschian men held their ground. Florianus smiled when he saw the black spears impale their enemies. They scrambled towards the hills, bit by bit, a few of them did, still engaging in battle with the Itruschians left behind, who defended the path that led to the hills with all their might.Florianus smiled as they fell like flies, desperately trying to reach the village. A black-top hill ballista was fired directly at one of the middle-aged generals, impaling his ugly face against a tree.


    The barbarians were already starting to weaken. They were weak in those areas. The phalanx strategy had weakened them, making it no longer easy to push through.


    "Surrender!" he shouted from the hilltop.


    A disgruntled barbarian aimed and shot at him, but he quickly blocked with his shield. Their bluff had been exposed as a lie. Florianus saw fear, frustration, and rage disfiguring their faces, while the Glorious Itruschian Empire prevailed, alongside their sons and daughters from the Holy Peninsula, the Suevian, Kaltanian, Habeshian people, and the people of the Three Rivers.


    "Hail our great Empire!" Florianus cried.


    And then, the earth shook. Florianus'' horse stumbled, raising its nose as if a catapult had struck the great Titan holding the earth on his shoulders. Florianus turned around. The battle below seemed to slow down as both friend and foe paused their blows and turned around to see what had happened. Had a star fallen? Florianus had heard of such accounts, of great craters dug in the ground and sometimes of great earthquakes that split the earth in two. He remembered there had been an earthquake a few months prior.


    When he turned, he felt as if his soul had escaped from his feet and left him alone. A few people fainted on his side, but he just raised his eyes to ensure that what he was seeing was not a delusion or a dream.


    A huge creature stood in the midst of the village. From there, it looked as tall as a mountain. Florianus'' heart started pounding as if in a trance, and the being that towered over the trees and houses seemed strangely familiar, like a fragment of his own memories. Its flesh was bronze-colored, its muscles imposed upon each other like segmented armor, and its face resembled a helmet. No eyes, nose, or mouth could be seen, only a void shaped like a cross.


    What was that?


    The creature grasped the trunk of a birch and pulled it out like a farmer harvesting carrots. With it, he swept the ground around him. Although partially hidden by buildings and trees, Florianus could not miss the armored human bodies cast into the air like dandelions blown away by a strong wind.


    "It''s the giants! They were right!" one of the infantrymen by his side shouted, falling to his knees. "We are doomed."


    Julius was pale. He could not believe it.


    Florianus stepped back, his mind rattling inside his brain. What should he do? Should he order their soldiers to run? No, a real warrior, a proud Itruschian, a man of honor, had to fight.


    "Archers, defend the line against the barbarians. We shall deal with that creature. Horsemen with me, let us march on."


    "Sir," a soldier whispered by his side."I need six archers¡ªyou, you, also you. Not you, you. Let''s go, quick!"


    They passed through the main road, and Florianus opened his eyes in awe as the creature kicked down the barbarian sanctuary, tearing the roof away and crushing the pillars. From the high boulder, Florianus saw the priest and a soldier crouching like scared animals.


    "Archers, aim at the beast!" Florianus shouted.


    The archers prepared their bows and shot at the beast''s head. Their arrows flew and crashed against its massive chest, bouncing off and breaking in two. The creature did not flinch.


    ***


    "Grandfather!" Kassius screamed, feeling his throat tighten up as the creature pulled the roof out of the shrine. Dust spread through the air, and the pillared walls tumbled as if made of clay. A creeping fear pierced his heart like an iron spear. His grandfather, old, wise, but fragile, had probably stood beneath the shadow of those marble pillars.


    "Well," Kassara said, strangely calm. "Hell, I did not want to die like that. Trampled like an ant. It''s terrible."


    "Damn, damn, damn them," Kassius yelled again, gritting his teeth. Even if he were not chained, his body would still be paralyzed in shock and fear. He knew about giants, and he had survived one at the beginning of the year. It had been only luck. His grandfather, if he could only run downhill, take his hand, and run with him to the old charred forest. His mind struggled to find an answer but gave it not to him.


    "I''ll be damned," Kassara said, her pale face unflinchingly fixed on the beast. As was everybody''s.


    "It''s fine, Kassius," she continued. "It was time for your old man to escape this miserable world. Lucky for him."


    "We''re . . . probably not going to die, Kassara."


    "That giant . . . You said he flew away," Raxana said, craning her neck to get a better look at Kassius. "Why on earth would he come back?"


    Kassius took a deep breath.


    "I have no idea," he growled. "No damn idea. Oh gods, gods, gods, no . . ."


    "I am sorry, Kassius. That doesn''t look good," Raxana said.


    "Oh hell, it doesn''t."


    Kassius pursed his lips. All that traveling, all those victories and triumphs, amounting to nothing. Becoming an ant. It couldn''t be. He tried to look ahead to the future. Yes, he had seen more things, more visions. There was something else destined for him and them. But how? His father had probably died. That, he had not expected. For days he had yearned to see him. He had been locked up in a cell so near to his grandfather''s shrine and hoped, at least for a miracle, to give him a last look, maybe even a word of thanks before his demise.


    But Kassius knew, where there was faith, there was hope.


    "Keep praying," Kassius said. "There must be a way to escape."


    The beast took a step back and stepped on a house, crushing it completely."


    "That''s where my cousin lives . . ." Raxana said.


    "Stop him, Kassius, my mother is around," Irema said. "I think I just lost my grandfather. Hell, if only he had left the place . . . If only he knew."


    And then, a catapult rang and launched a huge rock at the giant''s face. Its head rattled back, like a man eating a sucker punch. But it did not even knock it out.


    "It looks like they made him really mad."


    "Blast . . . Damn them all to Hades. How could they be so stupid?" Kassius yelled, his breath agitated.


    The guards who were behind them held their spears.


    "What, you knew about this?"


    "Yes!" Kassius yelled.


    "What . . . Did you summon it, you damn sorcerer?" The soldier pressed his steel lance against Kassius'' stomach. "I heard you could do magic, that damned slave talked about it?"


    Kassius gasped.


    "Well, no . . . But the stars were clear to see, of course I knew. They rose three months ago, when Larius died."


    "You bastard!" the soldier said. "You unleashed this upon us."


    The earth shook again. Kassius turned his head, the giant had jumped down into the old burnt forest, between both armies. That catapult strike had not been pleasant. The giant waved his arms, like the blades of a windmill, swinging and throwing horses and men alike. Kassius watched in fear as the giant stepped on men and beasts, leaving nothing but puddles of flesh and bone.


    "Can you expel him? Sorcerer?" cried the other soldier.


    "I . . . Yes! I can."


    "How?"


    "Let me go."


    "We can''t let him go," the short guard said. "They''ll open our guts and hang us like traitors."


    "Kill you? You won''t even survive."


    He sighed.


    "I say we kill you, what if you''re controlling the beast."


    "What? That''s absurd."


    The soldiers'' sweat poured.


    And then, a rider approached, its horse short but sturdy. It was Florianus. He dismounted, his short sword glistening in his hand with the last ray of the sun.


    "Sir, " the soldiers straightened and stood tall. "This young..."


    "There''s no time," Florianus shouted. "Kill them quickly. We can''t let them survive."


    He approached, with his blade out, and stood in front of Gitara, looking down at her.


    "I did what I could for your son . . ." he said, looking into her eyes.


    Gitara glared at him, clenching her teeth. Suddenly, she leaned in and spat on his face.


    "You ungrateful whore!" Florianus shouted, wiping his face with his naked wrist.


    "Overseer!" Kassius yelled, and started talking as fast as he could. "Listen to me! There''s a secret refuge beneath the forest."


    "What?" Florianus stopped short.


    "That''s the way we hid from you all this time," Kassius continued. "Please, release us, and we will take you there. It''s the only way to survive!"


    "You disgusting scum you did it." Florianus clenched his teeth in rage, he looked offended. "Release him, only him!" he cried.


    "Wait, release the rest of my people, please," Kassius said.


    Florianus giggled like a child, then frowned like an angry parent.


    "You are in no position to negotiate, foolish boy," he scowled.


    "Sir, please." The guards released Kassius from his shackles, and he fell forward, barely managing to regain his balance.


    "Please let them go," Kassius said.


    "I''ll let them rot in here," Florianus hissed. "Now tell me how to get to that refuge. Quickly! We do not have all day."


    "I won''t go without my friends!" Kassius said.


    "Do you prefer to die then?" Florianus said.


    The earth shook again, and they all gazed into the battlefield, where hundreds were mercilessly crushed by the creature. Kassius'' heart pounded fast, and fear glimmered in the gaunt faces of both soldiers and prisoners.


    "Go, Kassius," Kassara said. "We will be fine. You can continue our struggle."


    "Stop being foolish; his sentence shall not be overturned," Florianus said, mocking Kassara''s optimism.


    "Lead me there," Florianus ordered.


    "I won''t go without them!"


    Florianus snapped his fingers at the guards, and they walked toward Kassius. One of them quickly punched him in the stomach. Kassius fell to his knees, gasping. He clenched his fists, grabbing rocks from the floor, and looked up.


    "Make him come!" Florianus said.


    "It''s a lot of walking!" Kassius muttered in pain before being interrupted by a right haymaker to his cheek that knocked him to the side. Then, a kick to his ribs felt like a hammer tearing through his bone.


    "Leave him alone!" Kassara screamed.


    Another kick brushed the back of his head, followed by another in the stomach.


    "You fools! He is the only one who can save you all!" Kassara said. "You''re killing him. If you make him fall unconscious, he won''t be able to help you."


    The soldiers suddenly stopped.


    "Ask your commander if he''ll take you to the refuge! He won''t!" Kassara yelled.


    "You will take us, won''t you?" one of the soldiers asked, looking at Florianus.


    Florianus took a deep breath, continually looking back at the giant monster tearing through his armies.


    "Yes, yes, pick him up. Let''s do it."


    "Listen," Kassius muttered, wiping the blood off his face. "There are three or four refuges we can take. Let them go, as they all know the way. Try to get as many people as you can. But let us take our loved ones."


    Florianus clenched his teeth.


    "Fine, let them all go."


    "Yes." The soldiers quickly disengaged the locks of their shackles, and the company was free again.


    "Fine!" Kassara said, stretching her neck and arms. "Kasha, if you will, let me take charge."


    Kassius nodded.


    "You," she pointed at Kassius. "Tor, Raxana, and Aliya, go to the forest. I will take them to the refuge beneath the shrine, and Raxana will take them to the cave."


    "Agreed," they said. Kassius limped out, attempting to stand straight. "Let''s go. We have the quickest way."


    "You say we go to the forest? That''s ridiculous," Florianus said."Follow me!" Kassius said, limping down from Alana''s house, passing through the bushes and trees, leaving the village behind. From there, he could see the Itruschian archers assembled behind a wall, beneath which lay a long stretch of charred land. Florianus, who was riding below, looked back at the archers. They had to defend themselves; they still had to protect their area. How could he run away like that? Who could he save?


    "Sir, let''s save ourselves," Kassius muttered. "Later, we can find out how to defeat them."


    But the giant was sweeping across the land, killing dozens with a single step.


    "You know what?" Kassius asked. "Let''s all go down to the shrine."


    "What do you mean?" Florianus asked. "Is there a refuge there?"


    "Yes, most of it has been locked, but yes."


    "Alright, let''s get out of here," Florianus said. They turned around, running and riding back to the village.


    "We''re all going to the shrine," Kassius said.


    "Alright," Kassara said. "You''re correct, there is no other option now."


    As they kept going down, they saw hundreds of women rushing down along with Kassara.


    "You may think you and these women are safe, but I will punish you all after this," the commander said to Kassius. He did not answer.


    Florianus spurred on his horse, leaving them behind, making way for himself through the crowd. He would be the first.


    "Make way, women!" he cried.


    As the battle raged below, he pulled the reins. He faced the giant, swearing he would not die a coward.


    He trotted to the side, where his men were warring against the beast. They were to die. If he lived, he would live as a coward. That, he would not allow himself to be.


    ***


    As the Overseer''s horse neighed, something fell off his bag. Kassius ran to grab it; it was not the book he took from Tor. It was an older volume encased in leather straps. Whatever it was, it had to be valuable. He grabbed it quickly and rushed towards the refuge.


    The shrine had been completely defaced, but there was no sign of his grandfather. Now, hundreds of people had rushed there and were descending the steps of the secret passage that had remained hidden for ages. Raxana had been smarter and tied the curtains and ropes to the grand pillars, helping the sturdier women to get down into the tunnel.


    Kassius saw Irema embracing her mother. He pushed through and saw dozens of women descending. Each would have to take their turn, and it would take some time. He also wondered where the general had gone.


    As it would take him time, he took a look at the book. It was all in cuneiform, an ancient language, too ancient. He flipped to the pages and was bewildered when he recognized the sigil of the Sword. He had done it before when enchanting the sword.He flipped through the pages, looking at more illustrations. Some of them were of ancient dragons encircling the earth, others of heroes with luminous swords, and one was especially interesting. The same sigil, the hexagram and the cross, a man standing in the center, his arms raised. The next page showed a city built upon the symbol. What could that mean? He could not understand the language.


    Suddenly, he fell to his knees, along with all the people who had not managed to grab hold of the pillars.


    The beast was at the center of the village, its iron face rigid and frightening. It stepped forward, sinking the ground beneath its feet. The women and warriors screamed in fear.


    The cavalry rushed toward it, standing in its way. Kassius saw Florianus in the front, holding his battle spear in hand. He could hear him curse the giant and call on the name of "a hero who will come". Florianus pulled his arm back and threw his spear up, aiming at the center of the beast. It hit its target, sinking for an instant, but the beast pulled it out in rage, recoiled its leg, and kicked Florianus'' horse with him. His body flew many yards, scratching and peeling the ground. He landed close to the entrance, where the women who were once oppressed by him were paralyzed in fear.


    He tried to stand up but could not.


    And the beast sprung up, landing with its legs open on each side of the shrine. He waved his hand above them, huge like a giant pendulum of rock. Kassius crouched, barely missing its huge grasp. Screams echoed around him. People were now scrambling out of the shrine through windows and pushing through.


    And then, the huge hand sunk a finger into the tunnel.


    It pulled the ground open, rock and debris descending over the tunnel, where now dozens of women covered their heads in fear. The giant hand descended again, pulling the earth and stone, pulling the roots of the trees, destroying the tunnel, unveiling a secret chamber.


    "Grandfather!" Kassius screamed when he saw his forefather, dressed in white, his white beard unruly and dirty, way thinner than before. He was standing in front of an altar, his hands up high.


    "You shall not pass!" he screamed.


    "Grandfather!" Kassius yelled, but Aranus the Elder remained still, unmovable even when the rest fled, and the giant hand reached for him and pulled him out and crushed him like a bug underfoot.


    "No!" Kassius screamed with all his might, as anger and tears broke through, and he wept.


    The last javelins and arrows, both from barbarian and Itruschian, perpetually aimed at the beast. Most of the Hunatians had fled, but the ones who remained fought with their lives.


    He crawled out, as the beast dug below the altar, into the earth.


    The beast that had killed his grandfather. Not even the Itruschians had.He turned around, and his vision revealed Kassara, her body still muscular but emaciated, her hair shining like black onyx under the flames that surrounded them. Her right hand wielding a sword, and beneath her, Overseer Florianus. Tor and Irema observed with rage in their eyes.


    "Kassara, no!" he screamed and ran toward them, tears already becoming sticky on his face.


    "He''s a murderer."


    "Stop, stop!" He knelt beside him. "Listen! Can you read The Elder Script?"


    "What is this?" he muttered through drops of blood emerging from his mouth.


    "This! What does this say?" Kassius asked, presenting the book, the page that showed the man inside the circle.


    Florianus struggled to his feet as the beast scavenged through the tunnels behind them.


    "The . . . Seal of the Protector . . . A city was built beneath it. To protect men from monsters of iron and stone."


    "Tor!" Kassius said. "I need you to draw this sigil."


    Tor nodded.


    "You''re the best artist. Let''s do this."


    Tying a rope to Florianus'' neck, Tor and Kassius stood outside. They pulled the rope out and drew the circle just as big as they could fit inside the fallen pillars. Then, Tor drew the first triangle, from one pillar to two on the side. In the meantime, the figure lifted its metallic neck, turning around. It noticed them.


    "Tor, faster!" he cried.


    "He''s finished the squares," Irema announced, holding on to her mother.


    "No!" Kassius shook his head. "Can you write on the rock?"


    Tor shook his head.


    Kassius took a deep breath. The beast was done. It was crushing the riders that stood in his way. It would lock their eyes on them soon. It was too late to escape.


    Kassius pulled out Florianus'' sword.


    He took a deep breath.


    He lifted the gladius with a sudden and intense impulse not to do it. He gathered strength and smote his own elbow with the sword. He growled, gritting his teeth together, and blood started pouring like a stream. He lifted the sword on his right once more and smote his own arm again, with a scream that could have torn his throat in two.


    He growled again, as the arm tumbled on the floor in a pool of blood. Part of the bone popped out, red and grotesque.


    As if in a dream, he lifted it with a trembling right hand. He fell on one knee and faced Tor, who was as white as snow.


    "You can write it with this," he muttered and threw his arm across the floor.


    Tor nodded. He grabbed the arm and moved it across the floor, walking, letting the bloody arm drip like a brush with wet paint.


    Around him, he could hear Kassara''s laughter, as he fell on his head and squeezed every muscle of his body, as the greatest pain he had ever felt surged within him.


    The beast looked back. It seemed to recognize the shape.


    It growled so loud it penetrated the depth of Kassius'' ears and vibrated within his brain.


    Tor stood on the other side, his hand shaking as he drew an angle with blood.The beast ran out of the tunnel, making the ground tremble with its steps. Kassius glanced at its hands, which held some kind of treasure chest. It was encased in black, shiny metal and was as large as a tree.


    The beast hurled toward them, and the ground shook beneath its feet, as if frightened by its might.


    A blue light emerged from the ground around Kassius, blinding him for an instant.


    Kassius pushed his head back.


    "Come in, come in!" Kassara said, and the women around her glanced in fear from the pillars where they hid. "Enter the circle!"


    The beast attacked again, crashing its head against the wind. Once again, the blue light was seen for the blink of an eye, forming in the ground, following the lines of the sigil, and rising up like a barrier around them. It was built with ancient magic.


    More people started pouring into the circle. The beast attempted to attack again, but the angles around him struck him like lightning, and the magic wall, visible for seconds only, seemed to extend to the heavens.


    "You did your best," Kassara''s soft voice rang out behind him, but darkness circled him like murderous stalkers. He leaned on his knee, panting like a drowning man.


    "And I thank you," Kassara said. "Now, because of you, we are all safe in here."


    His energy seemed to drain from below, and then his head hit the ground.

 BOOK 3: Chapter I - The Capital of the World

    The Great Capital was as splendid as ever. Cladius had missed the beauty of the harmonious marble walls, the multi-storey houses, and the Temple of Jupiter with its hundred pillars, which made him feel small. He missed the protective gaze of the Huntress Goddess, overseeing the eternal red roofs and bustling streets of the greatest city in the world.


    His wooden carriage took him to the Patrician District, to a vast villa on the high terraces reserved for the elite of the Itruschian Empire. The place was guarded by armed Teutish men wearing riveted chain mail and bronze helmets. They looked at him with caution, perhaps never having seen a black man before.


    He retrieved his identification, a scroll hanging from a golden vial around his neck. The Teutons glanced at the unmistakable seal of the Senate, surprised, and allowed him to pass. Inside, he was greeted by a northern slave and soon found himself facing the Consul on a high balcony overlooking a thousand red roofs and countless pillars. He took a deep breath. He had decided to meet Consul Kalius before seeing his family; he couldn¡¯t afford to be late.


    ¡°Thank you for welcoming me again, Consul,¡± Cladius bowed his head. ¡°I felt it necessary to discuss the matter in person, rather than through correspondence.¡±


    ¡°I understand, young senator,¡± said the consul, his voice tired and sad. ¡°Before we begin, may I offer you some wine?¡±


    ¡°Not for now, thank you,¡± Cladius replied with a polite smile.


    ¡°You¡¯re sweating like a pig, old Cladius. Your journey must have been exhausting, no?¡±


    ¡°Do not worry about me, sire. The trip was long, but necessary. I would like to be brief.¡±


    ¡°Stop being so formal, senator,¡± Kalius said, turning around and snapping his fingers.


    The old man signaled to two northern slaves dressed in purple tunics and wearing gold rings. They bowed their heads and headed towards the cellar. The old Consul lounged back on his gold-coated couch, resting his chin on his right hand. Each of his fingers was adorned with rings made of gold and precious pearls.


    ¡°I have read your letters,¡± the old man said. ¡°I had a bad feeling about the entire situation. It spiraled out of control. So, you believe Larius is guilty of murder, correct?¡±


    ¡°Indeed. He is responsible for the deaths of more than eleven hundred innocent men,¡± Cladius murmured. ¡°You read my report; there was no evidence of a conspiracy. The operation only brought suffering, and the spoils of the assault were minimal, while the local industry was destroyed.¡±


    ¡°Well, it seems you¡¯re the one keeping it alive.¡±


    One of the slaves returned, carrying a tray with vases, olives, and thick grapes in deep red and pale green colors. Two clay vases were placed on the carved table before them. The other slave brought a tall jar adorned with a Hellenian motif painted on its long body and poured aromatic wine into the clay vase. The sweet scent of fermented fruit and spices wafted through his nostrils.The Consul was the first to pluck a grape and chew it with his mouth open.


    ¡°Enjoy yourself, young senator,¡± the Consul said. ¡°It¡¯s just some light snacks, as you said you have more business to deal with. I hope I can invite you and your family for dinner one of these days.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for your hospitality.¡± Cladius extended his hand and picked a plum olive. He savored it, the sour and oily taste caressing his tongue. That was the flavor of Itruschia, and he missed it like a dog yearning for its owner.


    ¡°You may continue your story,¡± the Consul said. ¡°Oh, how blessed we are to live here. Try the wine, it comes all the way from Hispanya.¡±


    ¡°Oh, does it?¡± Cladius held the vase close to his nose and smelled its spices. It was deep purple and looked pretty thick. He tasted it. ¡°It¡¯s wonderful,¡± he said, and sipped it like a thirsty man in a desert oasis. Maybe that was what he needed before meeting his wife again.


    He cleared his throat; he still had important things to talk about.


    ¡°About preserving the industry,¡± Cladius continued. ¡°I have tried, sir. I would not like to brag, but that land is seriously deficient for farming, and my efforts along with the few artisans that are left in the village are the only things producing any profit. We are wasting the year since we have not found enough personnel to work on the fields, and with the battle they¡¯ve been preparing for, the land will be ravaged further. Those lands are a waste. The only thing of value they had, economically speaking, was its gold industry. What Larius did destroyed the place.¡±


    ¡°Young man,¡± the Consul said, his bronze teeth almost falling off. ¡°And yet, you keep talking about Larius. The perpetrator is already dead. No one can bring the dead back.¡±


    ¡°I would only like to ensure the welfare of those people and bring prosperity both to them and the empire. They have suffered much. Commander Florianus keeps terrorizing them. I would like to take charge as Governor and rebuild it, not on fear and warfare. I know I can make the village and the entire province prosperous and happy. I just need your help to take full control of it.¡±


    ¡°I cannot do much, but you have my recommendation at the senate, I will support you in your campaign. But this Empire is ruled by laws, not by the whims of the powerful. By law, we must work. You need a sponsor.¡±


    And yet, Cladius knew there were groups of power competing for control and for their own whims and wishes. Others built their policies on mere hate, like Larius had.¡±I would like the truth to be known,¡± Cladius continued. ¡°So that it doesn¡¯t happen again. I want their terror to end. I know they can be free and not suffer. Their husbands are soldiers, part of the same army that killed their fathers and previous husbands. They¡¯re the most miserable people in the world. On top of that, Florianus keeps threatening them. I have never met a people so disciplined and orderly, and yet, they fear for their lives in their own homes.¡±


    ¡°But what can you give them?¡± the Consul asked. ¡°They don¡¯t have a leader. According to their reports, those women have been deprived of everything.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Freedom and prosperity. I brought you clothes of their making. A great industry lies there, hindered by Florianus, who doesn¡¯t let them work.¡±


    ¡°Women artisans?¡±


    ¡°They are women, but they¡¯re the best. Think of it commercially, clothes with a quality so great it matches the silk robes of Qin, for less than half the prize. Produced within the empire. But now, Florianus has only authorized one production center.¡±


    The Consul scratched his white beard.


    ¡°You know what? I will help you. Let me just find the right connections, and you¡¯ll have a secure post on the Provincial Government.¡± The Consul sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve invested money and time on proposals that have turned out to be scams, but I trust in your abilities.¡±


    ¡°Scams? May I ask you about them?¡±


    The consul chuckled.


    ¡°Right before the war, someone told me he had developed a sort of¡­ magic. So invincible that he could destroy a barbarian army on the move. He had a research building, the blueprints are at the senatorial plaza. His wonder weapon did not work, only killed four of our men. He just left with all my money and went East, never to be seen again.¡±


    ¡°What was the name, may I ask?¡±


    ¡°The name is not important, anyway, don¡¯t think about that, Cladius, just brings me bad memories.¡± He laughed at himself. ¡°How could I have been so foolish? Anyway, I am sure I am not making a mistake with you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Consul. The souls of hundreds will be thankful for you.¡± He raised his vase. ¡°To a glorious and holy Empire!¡±


    He drank his vase dry and placed it back on the table, bowed his head and stood up.


    ¡°I must go now, I thank you for listening.¡±


    ¡°I wish you luck, Senator Cladius.¡±


    He said goodbye and walked out. He would have to visit more politicians in order to make his cause known. He knew he could not appeal to their sense of morality, instead, to the prospect of economic growth. That had been the reason why his friends had fallen into Larius¡¯ game. Now, he would have to play smarter.


    His carriage driver was sleeping under a small canopy of wood, snoring and drooling over his green toga.


    ¡°I¡¯m back,¡± Cladius said with a smile.


    The man jumped in fright. ¡°Where to, sire?¡± he asked, shaking his head after coming back to his senses.Cladius climbed the carved wood of the carriage and sat on the padded seat, almost squeezed by the gifts and packages he brought for his family. ¡°Go to the Temple of Jupiter and I¡¯ll guide you from there.¡±


    ¡°At this time of day? Do you want me to go through the main road? The festival is starting soon. It will be full of people, sire. I usually go through the Hill of the Sun if I may.¡±


    ¡°Whichever you think is best. You know what, I don¡¯t need to get there fast, the longer you take, the better.¡±


    ¡°As you wish,¡± the old driver said and lightly whipped his horses. Cladius gave a long sigh and reclined his head back into the pillow. Coming back unannounced was frightening. He expected Lucretia to react as always, with screams and accusations. He was prepared to listen, or rather, to pretend he did. And yet, how he missed her. He could not afford to lose her. And he could not survive losing his young children.


    The road to the temple was crowded, hundreds of people assembling stands of wood and blocking the crossing chariots and pedestrians, as the festival for the Jupiter Crown would start the very next day. People made way for the carriage, but it took a long time, and the crowds seemed to make the horses nervous.


    They steadily advanced through the temple street, the wide, gargantuan stairs leading to the statue of the Thunderer, shielded by tall pillars, eternally crammed with devotees, priests, and merchants. They crossed through it in awe. Cladius thanked the Thunderer for bringing justice and begged once again, in his mind, for a brighter future to shine over the people of Adachia.


    ¡°Now, sir?¡± the driver asked.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Turn on that corner, the narrow road.¡±


    ¡°That one? Sir, with all the packages you¡¯re carrying...¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s safe. They know me.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± the driver pulled the reins and guided the horses to turn.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± Cladius said with a wide smile, as the driver seemed more frustrated than he was. Almost there. He counted the packages, making sure he had not forgotten any of them before entering the city. They contained gifts for his children and wife. A fine hemp dress for his wife and a mirror of gold auctioned from Gadalian treasures, a ragdoll made especially for little Lenna, a wooden doll for Lana, and a sword of bone and wood for his boy Heracles. He had been away for almost an entire season and received few letters.


    Suddenly, the carriage bumped upward, as if they had passed through a pothole.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Cladius said, looking back at the narrow street, where people seemed as confused as he was.


    The driver peeked back, surprised, searching for the mysterious pothole with his eyes.


    And then, it happened again, it sounded like a wall cracking down over the city.


    ¡°What?¡± Cladius recognized the sound, the shaking of the ground. It brimmed in his mind, and he paled. He had felt a similar quake months prior, the day Larius¡¯ head was found in the snow-covered forest. The carriage had stopped.


    ¡°Give me one minute,¡± Cladius said to the driver. ¡°I will go and take a look.¡±


    He stepped outside of the carriage, still holding onto the wooden walls.


    Behind him, the cries of the multitude¡¯s screams pierced the air. The earth shook again, and again, each of the tremors becoming more destructive, cracking the walls of the buildings, tumbling people and wooden structures to the ground. The driver¡¯s face became pale.


    Cladius turned, his head held high. A figure had emerged among the buildings, towering over them like a tree. Its body was red, like cinnabar, and its torso seemed solid, almost shiny, as if covered by a blood-painted cuirass. Instead of a face, it had an elliptical mask covered with bulging eyes. Cladius looked away in fright.


    Cladius¡¯ heart shrank inside, and he remained paralyzed as the creature stepped forward, tearing down a wall and causing the bricks to descend upon men and women at the edge of the street.


    The horns of the Battle rang again, after fifteen years, sounding an alarm for the Defensive Squadron to form. And yet, what could they do against that creature? Was this not the greatest city on earth? And yet, mere men, not Titans, had challenged it a decade ago.


    What could they do against the evil gods of yesteryear?


    And then he saw a catapult go off, crashing into the giant. It stumbled back, losing its balance and crashing into a consulate building. How many had been sacrificed there?


    But the beast sprung up, as if nothing had happened. It kept moving, crushing devotees of the Thunderer under its feet, destroying the stairs to his temple, and tearing down pillars as if they were made of clay.


    The roof collapsed, and Cladius wished he was dreaming.


    Another tremor shook the earth, and Cladius looked back. Another creature walked towards them, taller than any building around, even covering the hills with its back. Its skin was as white as snow, and it had one eye in its white face, devoid of a nose or mouth. Cladius lost control of his body and wet his fine toga, his eyes fixed on the beast. The creature¡¯s body resembled a human, completely white, except for the pinkish streaks that crossed below its neck.


    The creature pierced its arm through a reed roof, then extracted it, grasping human figures. Cladius felt his insides scream like a man condemned to the rivers of Hades when he saw the white hand bathed in blood, holding pieces of cloth and flesh. The beast reached towards the ground, where the screaming multitude fled for their lives, evading falling walls and rubble. The beast grabbed three screaming men in its giant hand, as big as a carriage, and crushed them in one swift motion, like a sadistic child learning to kill pigeons for the first time.


    Then, a loud creak rang out beside Cladius. The driver had fled; he alone remained paralyzed. Beside him, the wall cracked upside down when part of it gave way, collapsing beside him. The rest started breaking, releasing dust and small rocks until it dangled above his head, and sharp pain poured onto his skull.


    He hit the ground, and the world around him faded to black.

 B3 - Chapter II - A New Power is Rising

    Four thousand years had passed by like a dream not remembered. The Land Beyond All was transformed. It had become a desert of white and blue, and eternal ice covered what once was a sunken paradise.


    Arkas stepped forward, the snow sinking deep below his foot. His soul yearned for the ancient temple, and he looked at the sea of pristine white ahead, as if he could find the shapes of the old towers in it. It was white and flat like a never-ending valley, except for his bloody tribute of human bodies and the sea of red beneath.


    He could feel the power emanating from beneath the ice, like a hot furnace brimming in the eyes of its handler. After all, the ancient Heavenstones were beneath, as if mummified by the freezing cold, all charged with supernal magic, with the power to rule the earth and its miserable creatures, the power to make them submit and worship forever.


    A power that lay beneath the ice.


    His tribute was the only thing that challenged the pristine landscape, and Arkas hoped it was good enough. He hoped that it pleased his Master. After all, the blood of hundreds was still fresh and dripping, painting the snow red. Upon it, like a mountain of bodies, was a fresh sacrifice. Far ahead, where the Altar Tower would be, there was an open treasure chest, longer than a battering ram. Its contents had been placed like an offering upon an altar. There, over an iron casket lie the bones of a giant, his loins and legs of diamond.


    Where were his brothers? He knew Leviathan had finished his task. He expected the Titan to come down and offer a sacrifice equal or greater. Arkas did not care about killing the most. He needed not that, only that the purpose was achieved.


    And then, Leviathan descended from the sky, bursting into the earth like lightning falling. He was colored like lead. The giant stood, crouched, held what looked like a mountain on his back, with severed roots and trunks, rocks, and earth that fell like water from an overflowing vase.


    ¡°Brother!¡± Arkas spoke in an ancient tongue. ¡°What took you so long?¡±


    ¡°Silence! I was the first. This offering will please Him.¡±


    He quickly let the contents of the mountain slide down, falling like a river of yellowish grey; bones of men, women, and children, skulls and bones, all clean and intact, pouring down like flour.


    ¡°Dry bones, dry bones! No blood for your master? Have you drunk it all?¡± Arkas asked.


    ¡°My Master needs the bones!¡± Leviathan shrieked, still holding the mountain on his hunched back. ¡°He needs the bones! They please him, the bones!¡±


    ¡°Foolishness. Extra work,¡± Arkas muttered. ¡°And where are the Treasures?¡±The treasure appeared at the end of the pile of bones, preserved in an ancient chest made of iron, leather, and wood. Leviathan stretched his long, grey arms to retrieve it. The treasure was almost as big as his arm. He solemnly placed it on top of the mountain of bones, crushing the cover of the chest as he did so. From it, he extracted arms made of diamond, shaped like human bones, but perfect and indestructible.


    Soon, Azrel emerged from the sea, cracking the ice as he did so. His body was blue like the sea, constructed from it. He presented his tribute on a huge stone dial, possibly aligned with a heavenly body.


    He dropped the bodies, hundreds of them, but their exact number was not counted. They all appeared to be alive, as if they were merely sleeping, except for their pale clammy skin and closed eyes. Azrel loved to drown them and preserve them in his underwater realm.


    Arkas gazed back at the eternal white and red sky and the endless expanse of white stretching out behind him. From there, he saw the others descend from heaven like bolts of lightning. Both of them carried what resembled the upper dome of a grand temple, along with fragments of pillars that had been torn apart by their power. They carried the bounty. One of them was Armaros, the Red, whose three hundred eyes seemed to penetrate Arkas¡¯ soul. The other was Kokubel, the One-Eyed giant, also known as the White One, now with his body painted in blood.


    Armaros held something under his arm, another treasure that had been perfectly preserved. It seemed to be a breastplate for giants, adorned with shiny, green plates resembling emerald, like the scales of a serpent. It was made of an ancient mineral not found on Earth, but from a realm beyond.


    ¡°Once again, you¡¯re late,¡± Arkas remarked.


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    ¡°Time is eternal,¡± responded Kokubel, the cyclops. ¡°Time is one.¡±


    ¡°Well, you made us wait,¡± Arkas retorted.


    ¡°Wait longer, for eternity will unfold before you. We are one step away from total domination.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not just one step, Kokubel,¡± Arkas corrected. ¡°There are sorcerers on Earth.¡±


    ¡°Sorcerers?¡± Leviathan inquired. ¡°Have they challenged you?¡±


    ¡°Warriors? How could they?¡± Leviathan scoffed. ¡°What other way than with ancient magic? Isn¡¯t the power sunken? We have already plundered the greatest city of this time, and no one could harm us.¡±


    ¡°Silence!¡± cried Kokubel, the One-Eyed giant. ¡°Our master must rise. Save your talk for later. Right now, we must perform our ritual.¡±


    They arranged the treasures, the remains of their king, and faced the sacrifices ¨C the pile of bodies, bones, and blood ¨C with solemn eyes. They extended their gargantuan hands, feeling energy flowing through their immortal bodies like water. They stood in silence as the sun remained motionless in the sky, casting defiant light upon the now-submerged holy altars.


    And their voices reverberated like thunder.


    ¡°We summon you, O master. We have returned.¡±


    Their voices shook the icy sea. They recited the ancient incantation in the Elder tongue ¨C a chant that chilled the bones of men, possessing a magic so profound it could lay waste to cities, it could slaughter thousands with a single word.¡±Myriad souls, bones, and souls to you, bones and souls to you, our lord, Samaysa. Blood and souls!¡±


    Suddenly, the ice below began cracking, from the center of their offering, growing to encircle the Tributes. The blood drained inside the open ice, staining the water below with red.


    ¡°Bones and souls!¡± they chanted for the third time, and the ice burst like a crystal breaking into myriad pieces, and everything sank into the depths. The giants exchanged confused glances, except for the Cyclops. He remained still.


    And then, the earth shook beneath them, and streaks of pink and purple light emerged from the water. The light of the midnight sun was opaque with their mauve vapors and lights. The pink turned to blue as the ice around them sank, and a new structure emerged from the depths as they ran, not to fall into the sea, making way for the things to come. The building emerged, and water overflowed like huge waterfalls. It was a tower of crystalline stone, marvelous and monstrous, with spiked pillars covered in diamond-shaped tips, high curved walls, hollow and grim. Along with it, the Throne emerged, an altar of stone, shiny and green and opaque.


    The last one to emerge was the Fallen. He rose, floating in the air. His splendor spread like the sun, accompanied by pink thunder that rained from heaven and lit the darkened sky around him. He emerged from the center, his entire being radiating white light, reflecting the green beauty of his serpentine armor. He emerged and stood above the altar.


    He looked human, except for his size and the perfection of his features. His head was bald like a pearl, his eyes green like emeralds, his nose like an ivory jewel, his muscles like marble. He rose over the dark sky like a new heavenly body, his own splendor surpassing that of the moon, and soon, it would overwhelm the sun.


    ¡°Hail, Fulgurous one, Iapetus, oh Samaysa!¡± the Cyclops shouted.


    He had his eyes closed, ecstatic, and slowly descended and stood straight upon the altar. A set of stairs led to the tower, or rather, the pillar, and a gargantuan throne stood at its feet. Soon, the mauve smoke dissipated, and the Giants glanced at the majestic construction that supported the tower. Thousands of skulls, bones of arms and legs, rib cages supported each platform of stairs, extending from the surface to the water below as a sure foundation of death, all crystallized into stone.


    ¡°My sons!¡± the Luster screamed, his voice like the echo of ice and snow through a thousand years, low and dark.


    ¡°Our king!¡± the giants bowed to the ground. Finally, he was awake.


    ¡°You paid your debt well.¡±


    ¡°Our king,¡± the Cyclops, High Priest, spoke. ¡°We were banished for four thousand years, but those who cast us out have left. They abandoned their earth when they saw their puny creation. They left, never to return.¡±¡±I see,¡± the King of Giants stepped down the stairs. His entire armor reflected the light of his countenance into the world. ¡°I have dreamed of this for years. I awaited death in my dreams, and I knew.¡±


    ¡°It is time, nothing can deter us!¡± Leviathan shouted.


    Samaysa took a deep breath and smiled coyly.


    ¡°It is indeed time.¡±


    ¡°We shall conquer the whole world, our lord,¡± the Cyclops shouted, the blood on his body turning black, coagulating over his cold skin. ¡°We shall lay waste to the empires of the earth, we shall baptize the world in blood and fire.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± the king¡¯s voice resounded through time. ¡°But hear me, oh sons of heaven.¡±


    He lifted his head to the purple sky, to the midnight sun veiled beneath mauve clouds.


    ¡°What do we yearn for?¡± the King shouted.


    ¡°Power!¡± they claimed. ¡°Power is what moves us gods, power is our currency.¡±


    ¡°It is, and you, my children, you have been born and cursed. Through me, I built bodies more perfect and powerful than any others. You feed on blood, you feed on destruction. But I feed on something else. I need the whole world to worship me.¡±


    The giants exchanged glances.


    ¡°I will be king, but let me give this world what it desires. You shall get your share of blood and death, but this is the way. This is the way.¡±


    ¡°We are linked to you, our king!¡± Arkas yelled. ¡°You gave us undying life.¡±


    The King of Giants smiled. He was pleased.


    ¡°I shall find a way for our rule to be cemented. But hear the words of your master, as I have dreamed many things through the centuries. Hear my words, for in them there is wisdom. If you march into the world and force them to yield, they shall fear and rebel until there is no more blood to drink. Nay, there is another way, for I have already devised a plan for you.¡±


    ¡°What is it, my lord?¡± the Cyclops asked.


    ¡°Feed them, like they feed cattle before the slaughter.¡±

 Chapter III - Redemption

    Kassius woke up and felt as if he were in a marketplace; the voices and languages around him were too familiar. He opened his eyes and immediately shielded them from the light with his pillow. His body seemed to rest on the clouds, and that strange sensation of sleeping somewhere other than the hard forest soil troubled him. Was he in the Elysian Fields? He forced himself to open his eyes. He was surrounded by half-broken walls, like the ruins of ancient Hellenian cities. Voices, sunlight, and a fresh breeze filtered through them. A canopy hung over his head, nailed to the trees and the walls, and next to him, women and soldiers whom he had never seen ¨C some of them in Itruschian armor ¨C were sleeping or lying down with defeat and frustration in their eyes. Was it the medical tent of the Itruschian army? His eyes drifted down and noticed the reddened bandages around the man next to him... He had no legs.


    The one next to him, too, had lost a foot and an arm.


    Where was he?


    He tried to move to the side, but a sharp pain overcame his body. He groaned and clenched his right fist. His left did not respond. He blinked, getting used to the light, and caught a glance of himself. Red and brown painted the bandages around him, especially around the area where the pain was the greatest. But something he saw made him pale.


    He tried to lift his shoulder; his arm responded in pain.


    But half of his arm was missing.


    A scream surged from the bottom of his lungs, piercing the entire world around him.


    "You''re finally awake!" said a female voice that crossed through the curtains.


    Kassius was panting, his right hand tensed around his blanket.


    Kassara opened the curtains, with the light behind her black hair drawing her like an apparition. Her presence was comforting. She walked in and sat by his side.


    "You smell like hell, by the way," she said with a smile, and her fingers drifted up and covered her nose.


    "What... What happened?" Kassius asked.


    "You saved us all. You''re a hero. They think you are the god Mercury. Silly them."


    "What... Is..."


    "Don''t you remember?"


    He shook his head. Yes, he knew it, he felt it, but going there felt horrible ¨C felt worse than the pain.


    "You..."


    "I... I think I know," he said, but he glanced away, as if looking beyond the canopy, beyond the trees, beyond the forest. "What happened to them? Where is everybody?"


    "Try to get some rest, in your body and your mind. We need you to get better before we make any move."


    "But what about the village?"


    "Many died, but you saved hundreds. The Itruschian army is also here."


    "But..."


    "It''s all good," she winked an eye. "Alana''s friends too."


    "What friends?"


    "A bunch of mounted weirdos. They fled when the Giant appeared and camped nearby. Later they came back to see what happened. They''re helping us with their provisions."


    Kassius sighed and let his head down.


    "How many days..."


    "You''ve been asleep for six days."


    Somebody pulled the curtain again.Tor stepped in, with a wide smile on his face. He rushed to Kassius'' side.


    "Tor, you made it too," Kassius said.


    The curtain remained open, and a young woman with dark blonde hair entered, followed by an older woman with streaks of white hair, a thick body and an embroidered white tunic with flowery patterns. They were Irema and her mother, Zita.


    "Kasha!" Irema said with a wide smile on her face. She was holding a clay bowl on a silver tray, white steam escaping from above. "Here, I heard that you love stew. We have been making this every week, hoping that you''d wake up from the smell."


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    "Thanks, Irema," he said. She stepped in and rested the tray on his lap. The smell of vegetables and meat made his stomach and tongue yearn for a taste. He grabbed the silver spoon on the side and sunk it to grab a piece of pumpkin.


    "Hey! Give something to us!" cried one of the soldiers on his side.


    "Keep quiet!" Kassara hissed, fixing the man with a freezing glance. "You''ll have your rations. If this man hadn''t done what he did, you wouldn''t even be alive."


    Kassius kept his eyes open wide, his stomach was empty. He opened his mouth and felt the soft savory flavor of the stew, tasting bites of soaked carrots and cabbages. Another spoonful and he chewed on soft lamb meat.


    "Thanks," he said. "Well, thank you. Has Alana come back?"


    "Not yet," Kassara said, then pursed her lips.


    Kassius closed his mouth and sighed. He moved the tray forward with his only hand and placed it on the bed.


    "I will keep fasting, I need to know how she is."


    "Eat your food," Kassara said, pointing at the bowl. "You need it."


    Kassius sighed. Where was Alana? He concentrated on the center of his soul and asked to see where she was.


    But there was no vision, not even a glance.


    "Kassius, relax, it will all be fine," Kassara said.


    And then, the memory of what had occurred to them crossed his mind like lightning. It caused him to shake in his bed. That creature. The walls trampled underfoot like mere ant hills, his grandfather shielding the Sanctuary with his life. Hundreds dead before his eyes.


    "What if they come back?" he said, and started to pant.


    The people around him remained silent. Only the chirping birds in the trees above continued to sing. His friends paled.


    "Good boy," Kassara said, running her fingers through his hair. "You did well. Do not worry about that, no one knew what was happening, and what you did was very brave."


    "We''ve never doubted you''re sent by the gods," Mother Zita declared.


    The Itruschians moved their glances away, as if overcome by shame.


    "Did we lose anyone?" Kassius asked.


    "Raxana died guiding people to the shrine," Kassara said with a solemn tone.


    Kassius pursed his lips and sighed.


    "Kassara," he looked up. "I need you to do something for me."


    "What?"


    "You know how to tattoo the skin, don''t you?"


    "I do, Kassius," she raised an eyebrow. "What do you need?"


    "I need you to tattoo the sigil on my chest.""Well," she ran her hand through her dark hair. "I can do that. Just tell me when you want me to."


    "And I have another question. What about the commander who caught us? Where is he?"


    ***


    The tattoo did not hurt much, as he procured the best numbing herbs, but the process was really bloody. Anyway, even without the herbs, it would not have hurt as much as his missing arm.


    After a day of rest, Ira took him to see the commander. The new prisoners were held at the lowest level of the new administrative building, among them, the Centurion Julius, who had been there when the attack started, and a few more who the women of the village denounced as the worst.


    The other two were in their own cells, the ones that Kassius and his friends had occupied before the battle. But Florianus was at the very end, and instead of sitting with shame in his eyes, he was chained by the hands and legs to the wall.


    "He''s been trying to kill himself," Kassara said, leaning on the wall. "I was waiting for you to see."


    "Let me go, let me end it all!" Florianus ordered. "I cannot bear to live like this. I¡­ I did not torture you, I do not believe in torture¡­ Please grant me my own wish¡­ Please grant me death."


    "And yet you threatened to sell us to a circus to be eaten by lions, you took my friend''s baby girl and wanted to destroy the child''s identity." Kassara crossed her arms.


    "Please have mercy on my soul, there is no greater torture for me than to live as a captive."


    Kassara advanced and looked down at the man, clenching her teeth.


    "We will not let you die."


    The man''s blue eyes sparkled with rage.


    "Do it! I''ve had enough of this life." He breathed heavily. Kassius could see tears forming in his eyes, but the man turned his face to hide them. "Enough! I lost everything, I lived my life for this very struggle, and now there''s nothing left to fight for."


    "Stop it," Kassius said. "I have come to ask you about that book. That book saved you and all of us. What is it about?"


    "What do you care?"


    "I care about this world. What you saw was one of the first attacks. There is not only one giant, there could be hundreds. This world, even your beloved empire, is at risk. There''s a way to stop it."


    "It''s the same as your book, but written in the East, it''s just¡­ prophecies and legends."


    "What you did was very brave," Kassius said. "We may not agree with you, many of my people have a good reason to hate you, but we cannot afford to think that way anymore. There are horrible monsters roaming around and the least we can do is unite to fight them."


    The man looked up at him, attentive.


    "You have a chance to save this world," Kassius said. "But I need your help. We are putting away our enmity. Our hatred. For this. You know the language in that book, and I''m sure you know many things we don''t. Things that can save us."


    The man lowered his head and took a deep breath. He did not yet speak."Are you willing to help us?" Kassius said. "I issued an order; no one will touch you, and your soldiers are still loyal to you. I can promise to let you out if you play by the rules. The Hunatians are still with us and outnumber you."


    "Don''t let my men see me. No, I can''t face them. Let me die, for the love of Jupiter!"


    "What are you fearing? They see you as a hero. We have heard them call out for your freedom, for us to forgive you. We all saw you charge against the Giants, while you could have come with me to hide. You are a warrior, so now, this is the battle you have been waiting for. So stop lamenting and show that you''re a true Itruschian."


    The man''s glance distilled with fear.


    "You are just a traitor," the man said.


    Kassius chuckled.


    "But I want to fix things," Kassius answered. "You can save your world, but instead, you''re willing to let it rot in order not to lose your pride."


    "Alright, alright," Florianus growled. "What do you want me to do?"


    "Tell me about your book and teach me how to read the Elder Script."

 Chapter IV - Where the Gods Once Dwelled

    Claudius gathered his last bit of strength to push the fallen stones. A cloud of smoke and dust arose as his eyes wandered among the rubble. Weeping and wailing shrouded his hearing. He blinked many times, but specks of dust kept finding their way into his eyes. Terror crept into the back of his mind, but he remained strangely calm, as if walking through a dream.


    Slowly, his eyes adapted, and he looked around. At first, part of his mind tricked him into believing he had awoken in a different place. Then, he assured himself that he was dreaming. But there was no denying, as reality entered his mind, as he glanced at the crushed pillars, the bygone roof, the walls, the multi-storied residential buildings torn in half. Red tiles and collapsed bricks now covered the streets. He crawled out from under the wall that had almost crushed him, the bricks that had fallen on his back. He limped, although he did not think any of his bones had been broken. He felt as if he had been beaten up by a gang of bandits with iron boots, his body left covered in bruises, especially on his legs and back.


    Then, a horrid thought entered his mind.


    "Lukrezia!" he screamed and climbed the piles of bricks that now covered the city. He could see things below the dust, painting the landscape before him. Legs and arms were interred by the weight of their homes. Weeping children desperate to find their parents. He rushed down the road, crawling and climbing through the rubble, heading to the main plaza where hundreds of bodies had been assembled to be cremated. Many people stood on the sides, most with their clothes torn, their bodies covered in ash and dust. From there, he could see that even the lower districts of the city had been attacked. He had seen it¡ªtwo demons ravaging the capital. A cyclops and another being. Before, he had thought monsters like those were myths, dreams, and symbols conjured by ancient philosophers. But seeing them made him shake to the core.


    His heart hammered inside as he rushed through the gloomy streets, looking from side to side. He stopped short of the entrance to his home and fell to his knees.


    "Damn you, demons!" he shouted, while he stared at what he had worked hard to build and provide. The entire structure of his villa had collapsed under the fallen pillars. The roof had fallen. Some of the quarters remained standing, but most of the walls had been crushed, as if the giants had stepped right through them.What should he do? He remained on his knees, clasping his fists tight. He had to go in; there was a chance that they were still alive. If he did not find them at all, they had survived and were somewhere else in the city. He rushed through the garden toward the door. The main hallway was still intact, but as soon as he crossed to the inner garden, he glanced at the fallen walls that covered it entirely. Where could they be? He passed through, inspecting the lower section, and he entered his room. He saw a human arm sticking out from a pile of rubble, and his heart jumped. He rushed to grab it and pulled. Impossible; it had been crushed by a lot of weight. He leaned in and did what he could to lift the rock that covered it, but when he saw the crushed skull of his servant, he let go and sighed. Tursan had been loyal and noble for years. Now he could not go back to his family in the village. His sick mother was probably waiting for him to go back, as usual, at the end of the year. Not to see him again.


    Cladius swallowed, looking around, wishing in the depths of his soul that his wife and children were not there, that they had survived. He walked into the main living room, all crushed and destroyed, and rushed to his children''s quarters. There, the walls had collapsed entirely, and he frantically started pulling fallen bricks and broken segments of the collapsed wall.


    "Can anyone hear me? Is anybody there?"


    Half of the wall was still assembled; the other half had collapsed on the side. He jumped down, grabbed it from beneath, tried to push it up with his legs and shoulders. He clenched his teeth and growled as he struggled to make it stand. There, he saw a hand he recognized, small, palms up. Cladius screamed as he pushed with all his strength, and the wall finally stood. He pushed it to the side, and it collapsed in the other end of the room. He rushed to move the stones away.


    "Lukrezia, love, please, please." He lifted a cluster of bricks. Her face, although covered in dust, had been preserved by the angle of the table where she had hidden. But as he lifted the rocks off her chest, he discovered something horrid. Lana and Heracles were still holding onto her body. They were also intact. Maybe they had suffocated below the rubble and concrete.


    Cladius knelt over the hard stones and caressed the face of his beloved. Her curly red hair now whitened by the dust and sand.


    "Why couldn''t I be here for you?" he said, as tears descended freely. "Why? I beg you, forgive me¡­ Please¡­" His hands lowered, and he touched the hair of his children. Heracles had died. His son, his pride had died so young. Lenna, his sweet girl.


    "P¡­ Papa?" he heard a soft voice on his side.


    "Lenna?" He lifted his head. "Lenna, is it you?" He jumped down.


    "Papa, please help me?"


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    "Lenna, tell me where you are?"


    "Papa, I''m scared."


    "I''m here, sweetie, I''m here for you. Daddy''s here, where are you?"


    "Under my bed¡­" "Under the bed, under the bed¡­" He lifted his head, scanning through the rubble.


    "I can''t get out."


    "Hold on, I''ll be there for you."


    "Where''s mommy¡­" she asked, and Cladius couldn''t help but look back at what he had uncovered. That would be too much for her to take.


    "I''m here, sweetie," he moved to the other corner and lifted the rocks. It was hard, so he used another brick as a lever to help him lift the bed. The bed had collapsed on one side, and Lenna had remained cornered against the wall.


    "Daddy."


    "I''m almost there," he said.


    "Daddy!"


    "I''ll get you out of there." He grasped one of the logs of the bed and pulled with all his strength. It disassembled the bed and he collapsed on his own back, but his daughter could now look through it.


    He looked at her; she had stayed there by chance, or rather, by a miracle, healthy and intact.


    "Daddy, why are you crying?" she asked.


    "It doesn''t matter, Lenna," he said, pulling another log out of the bed to make way for her to escape. Then he extended his hands and pulled her out, he turned her around and embraced her, her soft warm body was intact, unharmed by the wicked giant.


    "I''m so glad I found you," he said, holding her tight.


    "Where is mommy, where are they? I heard them, daddy, I heard them."


    "We''ll see her later, Lenna. Now, let''s go to the city."


    "Daddy, why was everything falling? Everything."


    "It''s alright, I''ll explain later, please hold me tight and no matter what, don''t look back. I won''t let anything else happen to you."


    ***


    A man and a little girl walked through what once had been the glory of the kingdoms. Now, half the people they knew were gone. Cladius avoided the main square, as he knew hundreds of bodies had been taken there for cremation. But what could he do?


    He carried his daughter in his arms, the long-legged rag doll he brought for her cupped carefully in hers.


    "Daddy, why is everything grey?"


    He sighed before voicing it.


    "There was an attack."


    Cladius did not want to scare her more.


    "Who?"


    "It doesn''t matter. It''s gone. A very bad person."


    "Heracles went out, he told me about a monster. Was it the monster?"


    "Yes, sweetie, there were very bad people who came, but they''re gone now, they can''t hurt you anymore."


    "Do you think mommy is with them?"


    "Your mommy is fine where she is now," he said, only hoping that her soul found rest.


    Cladius scanned the horizon, looking for a part of the city that had not been damaged, but from up on the Hill of Jupiter, he could see that the creatures had intentionally tried to tear the city down, as most of the monuments had been crushed, most of the temples, and very few districts seemed untouched by their rage. As he went down, heading towards the Southern district, he encountered hundreds of people marching in that direction. From afar, it seemed like the least affected area.


    "What are the authorities saying?" he asked a man in a patrician''s toga. "Authorities? Didn''t you see? The Senate was destroyed with most of the senators inside. In the midst of a meeting. The consuls are dead. We''ve seen three senators close to the city center, one of them had the idea to find the bodies, but it seems like they don''t have any idea how to deal with the situation. Some centurions are trying to organize the people, but it''s all a mess. No one knows what to do."


    "So everybody is heading south now."


    "It''s the only normal place. Everything else was turned upside down."


    "Daddy, is mommy at the place where we''re going?" Lenna asked.


    "We''ll see her later," he said, unable to tell the truth but feeling his heart ache every time he felt forced to lie for her child not to know. How could he deal with that? He had never thought his wife would die so soon and had never thought about what he would tell his child in that case.


    Claudius soon reached the southern district of the city, it was dirtier and more humble. A temple for the Goddess of Crops was built close to a large circular plaza with an ancient obelisk in the middle. He glanced at a centurion directing groups of people, the setting up of military tents, and people sitting on their hunches on the corners.


    Claudius rushed towards the man, who glanced at him.


    "Sire," Claudius rushed toward him.


    "What is it, foreigner?" the centurion asked with slight mistrust on his face.


    "Sorry to come across this way, I am a senator who just came from an official journey in the west, these are traditional clothes. I''m your compatriot."


    "I am no compatriot of yours, brown scum."


    Claudius took a deep breath. He hated having to deal with that attitude, especially when he was around his wife. He couldn''t believe he had lost her. He reached for the necklace and pulled it out, revealing the scroll with his credentials.


    "Claudius Duodecimus, patrician. Senator," he said and emphasized the latter word.


    The centurion growled.


    "What do you need, sir?" the centurion muttered.


    "I would like to address these people."


    The soldier turned toward the multitude and clapped his hands.


    "Attention, please," the centurion shouted from the center, his voice amplified by the acoustics. "The gentleman here is a senator."


    He gently put his daughter on the ground, holding her by the hand, he walked to the center, while people stared at him with wide eyes. He did not look like the typical native Itruschian, and yet, he hoped a few of them would notice.


    "Fellow citizens and subjects of our Holy Empire, listen to me!"


    The people observed him with curiosity, some bewildered at his looks, but most cooperative, some begging, some crying, but they all were attentive. A good thing came out of the rigid social dynamics of the Empire."I am a Senator of the Empire. I, like you, was present when it happened. I was coming back from a trip to the East for which I missed the senatorial meeting. Please let me know if other members of the Senate are alive. I, like you, have lost many loved ones in this horrible attack. However, no matter what, our great Empire lives and fights back. I see that you are setting up tents, but many people have called for sustenance. I propose something. If your family stowage is still intact, let us gather together, donate at least part of it, and we will feed the ones who need it. Let us show restraint and discipline in this crisis. It is the only way our community may survive."

 Chapter V - Gifts of Love

    Warm days passed in the northern forests where Alana and the new Legion of the Bear rode and camped under tall evergreens, fending off rival gangs of bandits and hunting rabbits and deer. Alana and Ira rode together. But Alana did not ride like a warrior. Her body faced the horses'' flanks, protecting her sex and her belly. Ira had told her it had been around three months of pregnancy, and she had to be taken care of. She yearned to see her husband again and tell him of the life that was forming inside her. Her mind was full of questions and nostalgia for things long passed, and a growing fear of losing all her dreams.


    Once, she had prided herself on developing skills in the sword and lance, but her body was growing fearful of battle and training, her mind became sluggish and melancholic, and Ira forbade her from training. Alana felt like a withering rose. She was becoming weaker every day, and the progress she had built at the sword abandoned her like water flowing through her fingers. She needed Kassius by her side. She had never missed him so much in her life. Ira was a great help, and although the men were her friendly and kind, she felt more vulnerable than ever.


    The bandits who had accompanied them stayed in the forest. The legionaries donated some of their weapons, including Alana''s Parzhian dagger, and bought some horses and provisions. They left and crossed the dark woods, riding by the banks of a clear river. Alana narrowed her eyes, peeking from behind Ira''s back. Gentle fumes flowed up to the blue sky above the village with a small fenced wall of wood and thatched roofs. A red flag hung from the main wooden gate, and red canopies could be seen from a distance. She and Ira had passed by that same village a few weeks prior, but there had been no canopies or flags.


    "There must be some kind of carnival," Ira said. "It might be the feasts of Jupiter, they''re around this time of the year."


    "Do you think they''ll have lamb chops?" Alana said, suddenly overcome by hunger. She could even taste the fat and feel its soft aroma.


    "Do you want to ask the men?"


    Alana felt an impulse surge within her. She wanted lamb chops, and she was going to get them, no matter what.


    "Let''s just pass by, like last time. Quickly."


    "Well, you tell the soldiers?" Ira asked.


    "You tell them."


    "Aren''t you supposed to be the leader?"


    "I don''t feel like telling them, Ira," Alana said with a sigh.


    Suddenly, she heard the rumble of hooves in the distance. Alana narrowed her eyes. Three men were riding out from the village, carrying official flags and ceremonial armors.


    "Stop," Alana said to Ira, and timidly lifted her right hand."Stop!" Ira repeated. The troop halted, one by one. A few soldiers whispered behind her, questioning what those riders might want. They advanced with fluttering banners and relaxed expressions on their faces. Their armors were kingly, and colorful capes hung from their backs. The one that rode ahead had pink cheeks and a bun on the side of his hair.


    "Greetings, travelers," the messenger said, bracing his horse before the group. The other two did the same. Their horses nickered, with their black eyes half-open.


    "Greetings," Alana said from her steed, craning her neck from behind Ira''s back. "We are just passing by, going south, back to Itruschian lands."


    The man smiled, revealing six teeth.


    "We were wondering who you were, as I see both Itruschian and Eastern armors," he continued.


    "We are Gadalians and are not in league with the Itruschian Empire anymore. We only wish to pass through your lands in peace," she said.


    "Well, of course," the messenger said, stroking his red mustache. "Rest with us if you may. Indeed, you may pass through our village, rest, eat our banquets, and be joyful. Please, fellow travelers. Join us."


    Alana looked back at the company of mounted soldiers, then back at the messenger and his escorts.


    "Is there a fair going on?" she lowered her voice.


    "Alana?" Ira looked back at her, with narrowed eyes.


    The word "fair" brought terrible memories to her but also positive ones from when she was younger and her father would shoot darts and dance with her along the maypole. She was curious about what kind of delicious food they could have. Her stomach groaned for lamb chops.


    "Not a fair, nor a festival, but something far greater," the man announced, with eyes sparkling with joy. "We were greatly blessed by the Great Gods and would like to share that bounty with all men and women in these parts."


    Alana cleared her throat.


    "Not a fair? But there''s food, isn''t there?"


    "Certainly, my lady."


    "What about cheese?" Alana asked, thinking of her friend Ira and how cheese usually improved her mood.


    "We have one of the most famous cheese farms in the Teutlands," the man said with a proud grin.


    "Then you may expect us there, good sire."


    The man bowed his head, the Suevian bun of hair bounced on one side.


    "We will be expecting you," the man said, lifted his head, and spurred on his horse. They galloped back to their village.


    "Finally, some rest," said one of the legionaries behind her. Alana overheard some others wondering whether they''d have fresh beer, as theirs had run out some time ago. A quick trot echoed behind Alana. She turned to find Elkas with a frown under the thick eyebrows.


    "What do you think you''re doing?" he said. "We''re supposed to keep moving and arrive early."


    Alana sighed. She hated explaining things, especially to Elkas.I know, Elkas, I know we need to get there as soon as possible. Believe me, I really want to get there, but... I''m tired. We''ll just stay one night and tomorrow we''ll ride the whole day. What do you say?


    "Now you sent those men to prepare places for us, and it''s dishonourable to leave them like that. But I warn you, we are a team. Next time, consult with me," he said, pointing his finger at her.


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    "Yes, Elkas, yes," she muttered and sighed. He said no more, pulled the reins, and went back to his troops to tell them all about the change in plans.


    "And what if it''s a trap, Alana," Ira said, twisting her neck to see her better.


    "Who would set a trap for us?"


    "The Itruschians, Alana. Everybody''s looking for us!"


    She scoffed.


    "Well, let''s keep our eyes open then."


    "Alana, don''t be so trusting," Ira whispered and spurred again, pulling the reins and guiding Tistirya toward the village.


    "Well, we have been here before. Besides, they''re not allied with the Itruschians."


    "And how do you know?"


    Alana pursed her lips.


    "Well, let''s just keep our eyes open." She turned. "Keep your eyes open, people," Alana said to the group, and they responded with an aye, all in unison.


    The wooden gates stood wide open, but two armored Suevians with bronze breastplates stood on each side, leaning their tall bodies on their long spears. Ira rode in the front, Alana gazing from the flank position behind her back. The troop stopped before the gate.


    "Good day," Elkas said. "We have been invited by your men."


    One of the guards nodded slowly.


    "The weapons," the man said, exposing black teeth. "Leave them here with us before you enter."


    Elkas looked at Alana with a frown, then returned the glance to the man.


    "We shall not give up our weapons."


    "Give them or leave," he said.


    "Then we shall leave," Elkas said.


    "Wait," Alana interrupted them, raising her hand. "Is there a middle way? What if we camp here, next to your gate, and leave our weapons here."


    "You are armed to the teeth," the guard said. "Leave your weapons or leave."


    "Elkas," Askar spoke from a horse behind them. "What''s the big deal? It''s normal procedure. Don''t tell me they haven''t asked you to remove your weapons when you''re entering a town?"


    "I''m still your decurion."


    "Come on, man," Adna complained. "It''s just a small town."


    "Yes, comrade," said another soldier. "What can they do to us?"


    "You''ve all become too loose." Elkas faced them with a cold glance. "If you want to get skewered here, go for it."


    A voice echoed behind the tower walls. The messenger approached them again, this time on foot.


    "What is taking you so long?" he said with a cheerful smile, stepping out from the gate and crossing his arms.


    "They don''t want to give up their weapons," the guard responded, aloof.


    "Oh, I''m sorry I didn''t tell you," the man said, scratching his red mustache. "Please, don''t think too much of it, it''s just a general rule. You''ll leave them here and can take them when you want.""But I won''t give away this one," Alana said, pointing at the Sword of Ares, bound to the saddle.


    "Well, we can make a few exceptions," the man said. "Just a few, but please, put them back. You may set camp outside, yes, but the ones who desire to ride in must do it. Understood?"


    Alana looked at the men. They looked eager and hungry. Elkas remained with his arms crossed.


    "What do you say?" Alana asked out loud.


    "Let''s go," most soldiers responded.


    They crossed through the main dirt road. The first few village blocks were covered with houses of timber, square walls constructed of upright posts, and roofs thatched with straw. They seemed silent, and a great number of men and women stood a few blocks from there. The smell of fish filled Alana''s nostrils, and she darted her eyes around to know what exactly it was. As they approached, it became evident. There were stalls and crowds of people. The entire company glanced bewildered at the sight of people trading in baskets full of fish.


    "What is all this?" Askar asked.


    People approached them, gifting them with brioches with grilled fish, still steamy and crunchy. The soldiers thanked them shyly. Alana''s stomach grumbled. She had expected to find lamb chops, but river fish also seemed nice. An old lady stood next to their horse, her white hair falling down to her hips, extending two skewers with grilled fish to Ira and Alana.


    "Thank you," Ira said, smiling at the woman and grabbing a skewer, but when they had passed, she gave her treat to Alana.


    "I don''t eat fish," Ira said.


    "Come on, Ira, it''s a gift," she said.


    "I don''t like it. Can''t eat it."


    "Fine," Alana said. Now she had two, and the savory smell called her. They had also been seasoned with herbs and pepper. She took a bite of the side and chewed on the soft and savory skin. It was good-quality fish. Looking back, the soldiers were also enjoying it.


    "Fish soup!" said a woman stirring a giant cauldron; her assistant sunk a big ladle inside and served the people who passed by holding their own bowls. Warm steam flowed up from the bowls and the cauldron, carrying the smell around.


    "I pass," Ira muttered.


    "Come on, enjoy what''s in here," Alana said. "When will we get a chance like this again?"


    "They have good cheese, but it seems like today is fish day," Ira said, guiding her horse to turn on a corner of the village. "I''m not really down for fish day."


    "Well, we''ve got to be thankful," Alana said.


    They followed along on their horses. The red-mustached messenger guided them to the mayor, a thick man with black hair and a long dark mustache, red cape, and dark trousers, held by a belt with a golden buckle with solar signs.


    "Welcome, travelers," the man said with a slight nod.


    "Thank you," Alana said. "May the gods bless you for treating us so well."


    "Who are you, young travelers, who were wandering around our lands? We wish you the best, whoever you are.""We are Gadalians, wronged by the Empire," Alana said. "Looking to go back to our people in Adachia and liberate them."


    "I see, a noble effort indeed. We enjoy our freedom, and now we want to give it freely. We have been blessed by the sea-god. He visited us," the man said with a smile. "He came to these shores and blessed us with mountains of fish, to feed and to share. He climbed to our shore, and we were afraid, but he called us, and bid us not to be. He told us to share these blessings with all the world, so the world can be better. So the world can be born anew."


    Alana narrowed her eyes.


    "You say a god of the sea came and spoke to you?"


    "Indeed!"


    "And did he ask for anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "Yes, young lady, he asked us to share it with all those who came near."


    "And what did he look like? I mean, it is, no doubt, a wonder, what you saw. But we''ve never heard of anything like it."


    "Well, for now, worry not, tell your men to rest of their burdens. They may camp nearby, if they desire, and we have fish to share all day and all night."


    "Indeed," Alana said, looking from side to side. She glanced at Ira, who understood immediately. Alana turned and dismounted steadily.


    "Well, my men can rest, and I''d like to see what you told me about. Along with my friend, Ira."


    "You may," he said, lowering his head.


    They followed the man, leaving the group of soldiers behind to enjoy the festivities of their newfound fish bonanza, and Alana walked with him to the rocky riverbank. The mayor walked steadily in front of them, his cape fluttering lightly, and the sun reflecting pure light upon the pristine waters.


    "There," the man turned toward her and pointed at a wide gap among the rocks. Some of them had been crushed, as if recipients of a gargantuan weight. Alana pursed her lips and swallowed. She directed a glance toward Ira, then looked back at the man.


    "What did he look like?" Alana asked.


    "Blue like the afternoon sky. But he was good. Full of love. We have heard of the giant that attacked people up north. But we know this one was good. He had nothing but good intentions. He took out the fish and many great treasures of gold that were lost in the bottom of the river. He spoke of love and peace."


    "Interesting message," Ira muttered. "What was that peace he talked about?"


    "Peace between the nations, and an end to all wars and hunger. An end to pain and disease."


    "Peace sounds good," Ira said, looking at Alana.


    "Well, that''s very strange," Alana said, running her hand through her hair. "I guess he was a good guy, right?"


    "Indeed, all we had to do was swear allegiance to him and the king who will come."


    "King?" Alana raised an eyebrow.


    "Yes, he is called the Luster and Dragon, but his true name, he did not say."


    "I see," Alana glanced at Ira, who kept her arms crossed.


    "I told you not to eat the fish," Ira said in the Gadalian speech.


    "Ira, everybody is eating them."


    "You saw what the giants did to those people up north, didn''t you?"


    "There are good and bad giants, it seems," the man said. "But we''re lucky to have a glorious, peaceful giant on our side."


    "I see," Alana cleared her throat. But for her, things were not as simple. She had to know more. She remembered that line from the spell they had recited. The last section, according to Kassius, said, "I challenge the eternal evil."


    Alana and Ira walked back to the main square. When the sun started to go down, it was time for the horses to rest.


    The feast continued late into the night, in front of a burning bonfire in the village''s main square. Alana sat next to Ira, on a corner.

 Chapter VI – Rebuilding a Dream

    The village of Adachia was slowly being rebuilt. The women who, months ago, had lost their husbands and sons, and who only days before had seen their houses crushed before their eyes, sat with their forced Itruschian husbands and made adobe bricks. Others gathered straw and grass to build roofs. Even the Hunatian archers got down from their horses and helped.


    Kassius fasted and recited the incantations every day to see visions of the future, particularly of Alana. He saw her, blurry like a dream, marching through the forest towards him. After a blink, he saw her in the desert, running and hiding behind yellowish stones. Where was she?


    Kassius was perplexed by his fate, and many times thought that he was dreaming. What he had thought impossible happened before his eyes. Florianus, the terrorizer of his people, his oppressor and jailer, stood next to him, directing the reconstruction work. When the labor hours were over, Florianus instructed him in the Elder Script. However, Florianus had a priority. He would look at the Imperial Road, glancing from afar whenever he found a chance, awaiting news from the Capital. He even sent a rider to the West to deliver a letter that detailed the conditions and the attack, and even mentioned the truce that the Hunatians had made with the inhabitants.


    Tor was the most dedicated when it came to redesigning buildings. There was not a lot of wood, but large stones were abundant on the hillside.


    Kassius and Florianus had waited for days, waiting for the return of Alana and the messenger. One day, they saw him riding hastily from the West. The sentinels at the top of the hill alerted them, and both Kassius and Florianus went to meet him.


    He came back with sweat on his forehead, a harbinger of bad omens. He pulled the reins, dismounted wearily, and Florianus said, ¡°Hail the Holy Itruschian Empire,¡± bringing his fist to his chest. The soldier did not return the greeting; instead, he just bowed his head and looked at his commander with trembling eyebrows.


    ¡°My commander¡­¡± he panted. ¡°The great¡­ The great city...¡±


    ¡°What took you so long, Claius, you good-for-nothing?¡± Florianus asked, hands on his waist.


    ¡°It has been destroyed!¡± Claius the messenger cried, his voice turning into sobs and moans. Kassius also felt a shiver run down his spine, and Florianus¡¯ face lost all color. ¡°The giants, my commander. The giants came; the giants destroyed our great capital.¡±


    Kassius gritted his teeth. And though the orders to destroy his people had come out of that city, he still felt connected to it through both blood and imagination. He had been there only as a child but remembered its sweet essence and glorious architecture, its pristine beauty and glory. However, Florianus looked as if a carriage had run over him.


    ¡°The senate was crushed while they were holding their daily meetings,¡± the messenger continued. ¡°Sire, the consuls died. The senators too. Commander¡­ It¡¯s all gone.¡±¡±Who¡¯s in charge then?¡± Florianus asked. ¡°Is it the military?¡±


    ¡°Senator Cladius was arriving, and now he is directing most of the relief effort¡­ I left the letter with him, and he put it away. But sire¡­ The city has been destroyed, people from other cities in the peninsula are sending help, but it¡¯s not enough...¡±


    ¡°So, Cladius. That traitor,¡± he muttered through his clenched teeth. ¡°Damn them! Damn these evil bastards.¡±


    ¡°The city¡­ The city is in ruins, they¡¯re rebuilding, but they¡¯re doing worse than we are. It will take time.¡±


    Florianus lowered his face.


    ¡°So I guess we can¡¯t count on them. And Cladius¡­ What was that fool doing directing the city? He is a danger to the Empire. He would turn it into a decadent commercial market, destroy the Empire¡¯s warlike roots, and lose its internal cohesion.¡± He clenched his teeth. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get back and show them how it¡¯s done.¡±


    ¡°Commander Florianus,¡± Kassius looked at him. ¡°You have to stay here.¡¯


    ¡°You don¡¯t have the right to tell me what to do, boy. What¡¯s left for me in this barbarous loo, let me ask you.¡±


    ¡°First, we have to learn how to deal with the giants. And I need you.¡±


    ¡°Fool! If we have a chance against them, it is through the Empire and its arms!¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± Kassius asked. ¡°Tell me, commander, how is the Empire going to defeat them? Crossbows? Catapults? Let me remind you that all your catapults and ballistae couldn¡¯t even scratch the giant. We need magic, and I know you also believe in it.¡±


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    Florianus was about to answer, enraged, when the soldier interrupted them.


    ¡°My lord, there¡¯s something else...¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Florianus scowled.


    ¡°The towns around¡­ On the coasts of Dlamatia, on the shores right below the capital, even in New Odessos, close to the sea...¡±


    ¡°Were they destroyed too?¡± the commander asked.


    ¡°Nay, my lord, they have been visited too, but they say...¡±


    ¡°Visited?¡± Florianus pointed at the crushed buildings. ¡°Do you call this a visit? What are they saying, Caius? What are they saying? Spit it out.¡±


    ¡°The giants¡­ They are worshipping them.¡±


    Florianus lifted his head, he remained silent and blinked in surprise.


    ¡°That was it? Is that how they defeated them? And I thought the boy here had something. So they knelt before the giants and they forgave them?¡±


    ¡°No, on the contrary, sir, they said the giants came with great gifts, with cattle, golden treasures, many things. They told them to worship their King.¡±


    Florianus raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Tell me more.¡±


    ¡°They only asked for one thing. The people asked what they should give to continue receiving all that, you know, the treasures, and¡­ They promised peace. In exchange, they would take the brightest and most beautiful children.¡±


    ¡°Children?¡± Kassius raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes, they did, they took hundreds of them, and the giant told them they were going to be raised with the gods in their courts, to the sides of the north.¡±


    Florianus took a deep breath.¡±That is in the book, isn¡¯t it?¡± he eyed Kassius. ¡°Sorcerer, have you read that part?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s what you¡¯re thinking about,¡± Kassius answered, narrowing his eyes.


    ¡°If it is, may the gods help us.¡±


    ***


    Florianus and Kassius studied that afternoon, sitting across from each other, comparing both the Hellenian book and the one written in the East. The cuneiform was difficult, and Kassius had to keep up with Florianus.


    ¡°So the information of their King was missing, on mine,¡± Kassius said.


    ¡°Yours only deals with the giants and their power, not what happened before.¡±


    ¡°It is obvious,¡± Kassius scratched his chin. ¡°This is the truth, he...¡±


    ¡°Say it, you fool. Are you afraid to speak the truth? I¡¯ll read it out loud for you. The serpent king lives on. His food is the blood of the innocent, of children and of those who lived too long, whom he despises. He takes them as offerings, they bleed under his heel, and thus, their blood he drinks.¡±


    Kassius clenched his fists. He felt his whole body and soul were covered in filth. The giants had risen because of him. That being, the one called the Serpent King, lived on because of him. Those horrible things were happening to innocent children because of him.


    He wished the ground would swallow him up.


    He lowered his head and ran his fingers through his locks of hair. He squeezed.


    ¡°It¡¯s worse than I thought,¡± Kassius muttered, almost inaudibly.


    ¡°It is. Do you see?¡±


    ¡°We have to get Alana,¡± he said.


    ¡°Your barbarian wife? What does she have to do with this?¡±


    ¡°She was my partner when we created the sword.¡±


    ¡°When you awoke the giants? When you did it, and brought down the death of millions just for a whim?¡±


    ¡°I told you, it just had to happen¡­ It was a line¡­ I challenge the eternal evil,¡± Kassius said, trying to defend himself, but he could not flee from the guilt.


    ¡°You caused all of this.¡±


    Those words, which he repeated in his mind, felt like a bucket of ice and water.


    Kassius clenched his teeth.


    ¡°And yet, we¡¯re the ones who can stop it. Tell me about the other sigils in your book.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not all complete, but here you go,¡± Florianus went through the fragile pages of the tome and reached another sigil. ¡°This text uses a word I don¡¯t understand. Well, it says, the consecration of¡­.¡±


    ¡°It must say something somewhere else in the text.¡±


    ¡°It just goes on about the story of how he was destroyed by the Hero.¡±


    Kassius always believed the Great Warrior of the Parzhian text was the god Ares, or Hermes. It was intriguing how different groups, separated by thousands of miles, had similar stories, and yet, the way they told them was vastly different.


    ¡°You know what the worst thing is? Your sword doesn¡¯t even have the magical powers it¡¯s supposed to have,¡± Florianus snapped. ¡°It¡¯s like ordering a pie to find that it has no filling.¡±


    Kassius gasped, lowering his head and wrapping his fingers around his hair.¡±Yes. I have been thinking about that, but I believe I know the answer to that.¡±


    ¡°Well, boy, you say you did the ritual. You even sacrificed her blood. It should have worked.¡±


    ¡°It does, but there¡¯s something missing. It¡¯s missing a gemstone. We have to find that. For now, we must search for powerful spells to use against them.¡±


    ¡°Spells? But how would we know they will work? If you stand in front of him, you¡¯ll be mashed to a pulp, boy. Besides, imagine if you were to defeat them, imagine the surrounding villages, especially now that the empire is basically dissolved and out of central power. Imagine all of them gathering to fight us.¡±


    ¡°I know we can beat them, we just need to research more. There must be a spell or a sigil. We¡¯re just one step away from finding it,¡± Kassius hissed.


    ¡°And what about those fools who are now licking the soles of those monsters? We¡¯ll have to deal with them now.¡±


    ¡°We just have to tell the people the truth.¡±


    ¡°Listen kid, if all these years taught me anything, it¡¯s just that there are two powers out there. You can play with them, you have to master them. In this case, they¡¯ve outclassed us. The people, not you, nor the idealist, nor the warrior. I¡¯m talking about regular people. They want a roof over their heads, they want their children to eat. Not to starve, at least. These bastards deliver. On the other hand, you have fear. I¡¯ve used it. Widely. It works, but it will never be as powerful as the other.¡±


    ¡°We can teach them. They don¡¯t want to lose their children, do they?¡±


    ¡°How can you prove it? They won¡¯t believe you, kid.¡±


    ¡°The myths! They believe in them.¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± he blurted. ¡°We¡¯re alone. We¡¯re all alone. Got to find your magic. I believed the Empire was the only thing that could stand against the Evil. Now, I¡¯m not even sure the Empire will stand.¡±

 Chapter VII - The Promise

    The feast at the Suevian village had been full of fish dishes and draft beer. Alana remained in a corner of the town square, watching the soldiers and townspeople dance to frenzied lutes and harps. She sat, eating so much fish she could no longer take it, and almost at the break of dawn, she fell asleep. Alana was one of the last to wake up, with her neck against a tree, close to the town square, glancing around. A few Suevian guards remained on each corner, squatting and rolling dice, with their spears on the side. The bonfire that had lit the night lay still in the centre, now turned to ash. Ira was within her range of sight, slowly chewing on cheese and chatting with a dairy farmer with little hair and a big belly under a brown tunic.


    ¡°Good morning, Alana,¡± Ira said from the barn across. Her hair was tied on a bun, not to make it messy.


    ¡°Morning,¡± Alana said, quickly realizing she had slept in public and her hair was probably a mess. She carefully arranged it, or intended to in the absence of a proper mirror. She finally decided to cloak up and hide her hair under the hood, although the day was not even chilly.


    ¡°What time is it?¡± Alana said, clearing the sleep from her eyes.


    ¡°Almost noon,¡± Ira said from afar. ¡°The soldiers were wondering how much more you¡¯d like to stay. They really liked it last night.¡±


    Alana stretched her arms, then placed them on the side, feeling the short grass. She moved her hand around, then turned her body, looking down.


    It wasn¡¯t there.


    She stood up.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Ira asked. The dairy farmer next to her nodded, quietly said goodbye and went back into his barn.


    ¡°Have you seen my sword?¡± Alana asked, looking behind the tree, and throwing glances around the town square.


    ¡°The sword?¡± Ira approached her, raising an eyebrow. ¡°It was with you, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I think we should get going,¡± she said, scratching her head, trying not to panic. Probably one of the soldiers had taken it to guard it well. Hopefully. If not, she would have to ask the town mayor. ¡°Where¡¯s Elkas?¡± she asked first.


    ¡°Right here,¡± Elkas said, his voice coming from behind her. Alana turned and found him walking toward her with arms crossed, his full armour on. Alana stood to her feet, barely reaching his chest. He looked down at her.


    ¡°I need to talk to you,¡± he hissed.


    ¡°Me too,¡± Alana blinked in surprise. ¡°You go first.¡±


    ¡°I mean in private,¡± he whispered.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You can say it out loud.¡±


    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s not  simple,¡± he said through clenched teeth.


    ¡°We have nothing to hide.¡±


    ¡°Alana, please.¡± He turned around, as if to . ¡°It¡¯s something else, something that concerns you,¡± he whispered as softly as possible.


    ¡°Well, this better be good,¡± she followed him to the bonfire, where the logs were ashen white and red. Elkas stared down with an icy glance.


    ¡°They don¡¯t want to let us go.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Alana asked, narrowing her eyes.


    ¡°They¡¯ve got the entire camp surrounded, no one can move from there, not even to the toilet. They¡¯ve left it like that since yesterday.¡±


    Alana felt her heart turn inside her chest.


    ¡°And did you talk to the mayor? What about your men?¡±


    ¡°Yes, they were waiting for you, I told the guys to stay alert before they...¡±


    The sound of marching steps through the plaza echoed, Alana turned and saw the village mayor striding toward them, his belly wide, bulging from his tunic. More than a dozen bodyguards marched behind him, all in chain mail, halberds and bronze helmets.


    ¡°So, you show up, our generous host,¡± Elkas said, lifting his chin and crossing his arms.


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    ¡°Good morning, guests. I hope your night was restful,¡± the mayor said with a wide smile, hands on his wide hips.


    ¡°It was, we¡¯re ready to go now, so please give us our weapons back,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°As you wish, we shall return them to you shortly. There is only one thing we wish you do,¡± he said, lifting a short and fat finger.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Alana said, crossing her arms. Ira stood next to her, shielding her, along with Elkas.


    The legionaries, who remained in the plaza quickly formed next to them.


    ¡°There is no reason for threats and, being all defensive, miss,¡± the mayor explained, while in the meantime, the men around the town square emerged from their homes wielding butcher knives, swords and rusty spears. Alana glanced around, squinting her eyes. She started to feel dizzy.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re the ones who are unarmed,¡± she said.


    ¡°These are just precautions,¡± the mayor said, smiling even further.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Alana asked.


    ¡°Your tall friend knows already. We, as a people, have an oath with the gods that visited us from the water below. Everyone who steps inside this town, no matter if he came through land or through sea, must kneel and declare allegiance to the Giants and the Dragon.¡±


    Alana laughed.


    ¡°Great...¡±


    ¡°Over our dead bodies, you fat traitor!¡± Elkas shouted, pointing his finger at the man.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do this to us! We came in respectfully, and respectfully disagree.¡±


    ¡°Then, you shouldn¡¯t have come here in the first place. Please, young travellers, it is only a small bend of the knees, and a few words of allegiance.¡±


    Alana pursed her lips, she looked at Ira, as if asking for guidance, but her glance was fixed on the men.


    ¡°Come on, guys, I cannot be held up for such a little thing,¡± Askar said from behind them. He stepped forward, the sun reflecting on his segmented armour, and dropped to his knees.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Elkas strode toward him and forced him to his feet. ¡°Are the deaths of those thousand in vain?¡±


    Alana gave Ira a short piercing glance. Ira winked her eye. It was time for one of Ira¡¯s stealth operations. Ira slowly stepped back through the walls of the houses, her eyes always forward, went to fetch water at the well, all perfectly innocuous. She would change her clothes and disappear, to ride back and find her bandit friends. Alana watched from the corner of her eye, to see whether she made it.


    In the meantime, she had to keep the mayor and his men focused.


    ¡°Well, I think we need good reasons to do it,¡± Alana said. ¡°Those giants are not to be trusted.¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Elkas scowled. ¡°I spit on your fecking giants. I wipe my ass with their fingers, and your words. Feck your giants. We will never bend, only if you mean squatting to soil in their faces.¡±


    The mayor¡¯s grin immediately turned into a face of disgust.


    ¡°You ate their food,¡± growled one of the soldiers. ¡°Now you better be thankful.¡±


    ¡°Just do what they say!¡± Askar screamed.


    ¡°It¡¯s about loyalty,¡± the mayor crossed his arms. ¡°These are gods; gods shall not be mocked with half-hearted oaths. And shall not be blasphemed.¡±


    ¡°My point exactly,¡± Elkas said. ¡°Alana, we shall fight for this!¡±


    ¡°Wait! What if you let us think about it?¡± Alana said. ¡°We came here in peace, we expect the same thing.¡±


    The man took a deep breath, as if containing his ire.


    ¡°We shall show our mercy to you,¡± he muttered, his face still red at the offense. ¡°Our gods are merciful. Then, you shall stay here, you cannot go. You shall not eat of our food, until you bend your knee.¡±


    ¡°No one of you guys,¡± Elkas interrupted them. ¡°Not one of you dares to swear fidelity to them, not one. That, we will count as treason.¡±


    ¡°The question is what you will be waiting for,¡± the major smiled with confidence.


    ¡°Summon the God of the River!¡± said a devoted woman from the crowd of pan wielders.


    ¡°Yes!¡± the voices of the townspeople echoed around. They called for it, Alana looked around and felt like a mouse, or part of a family of mice surrounded by a cat pack. And there was no way out.


    ¡°Oh, our masters will come,¡± the mayor said with a sly smile.


    ¡°Alright, deal is done!¡± Elkas stepped forward, clapping his hands. ¡°Now let us go back to our tents in peace.¡±


    ¡°As you wish!¡± the bald mayor bobbed his head slightly.


    ¡°Come on, Alana,¡± Elkas said, almost reaching for her hand, but she took it away quickly. What was Elkas thinking? That would be embarrassing even for himself, in front of the company. The soldiers kept marching on.


    ¡°Hey, this one was trying to get out!¡± they heard a villager shout. Alana looked back only to see Ira being held by two muscular men, they held iron spikes against her sides, and one of them had a hand squeezed against his own rib. ¡°She cut me with a spoon,¡± that villager said.


    ¡°They attacked me!¡± Ira exclaimed.


    They pushed her to the ground, and she fell on one knee, she lifted her eyes.


    ¡°Tie her to a pole,¡± the mayor scowled.


    ¡°No!¡± Alana yelled and ran toward her, she held her by the hand and lifted her to her feet.


    ¡°Leave her alone,¡± Alana said.


    ¡°What happened here,¡± the mayor strode toward them.


    ¡°Spoon,¡± the wounded man said, his face contorted in pain, and a single tear sliding down her cheek.


    The mayor directed a poisonous glance toward Ira.


    ¡°You injured one of our villagers. An attempt on a life is no laughing matter. She will be punished. Take her to the rack!¡±


    ¡°Stop it!¡± Alana shouted. ¡°Stop it now, she is one of us, we won¡¯t let you touch her! Take me, if you want, but do not take her.¡±


    ¡°Alana, don¡¯t do that!¡± Ira screamed at her, still on the ground. ¡°Don¡¯t put yourself at risk.¡±


    Two halberd-wielding guards stepped forward in unison, like choreographed dancers, pushed Alana away and grabbed Ira by the wrists. They pulled her to her feet and bound her with ropes.


    ¡°Let her go!¡± Alana screamed, as they dragged her to the centre, behind the bonfire, where they shackled her arms to a pillar.


    Elkas and the legionaries stared in anger as her arms were pulled up. She closed her eyes, and remained silent like a lamb.


    ¡°Do you want us to let her go? Swear your allegiance!¡± the mayor screamed. ¡°This is for your own good.¡±


    Alana tensed her fists.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Alana,¡± Ira screamed, her hands up, tied like a virgin sacrifice to a cruel god. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°I am sorry, you know I had to do it to her¡± the mayor let out a smile. ¡°We are being forced to do this, by you. You are being stubborn and cruel, we gave you everything, the gods themselves did. And now, you reject their alms. Thus, you shall be punished.¡±

 Chapter VIII - Ancient Dreams

    Kassius had watched from the hilltop as that strange mass of people emerged from the horizon, crossing through the rocky road from the wide steppes and fields toward Adachia. Watchmen stood by Kassius'' side. They recognized people who had been known as loyal Itruschians, people from the local government, and the Thracians who were exemplary when it came to assimilation into the empire. They had shed their national clothes and changed into a strange vision of white and mauve tunics. They advanced through the long roads, marching as if on a pilgrimage. And yet, Kassius could see their long lances, the armors upon the tunics, the same old Itruschian armors. How could it be that in only a few weeks, the entire province had become full of believers? As if a plague had swept through the land, a fever, a disease.


    Gharkan galloped up the hill from where Kassius and an Itruschian decurion gazed at the distance.


    "Hey, Kassius boy," the Hunatian general said. "The wind brings these strange tidings. What is this? Are these friends of your Itruschians?"


    "Good morning, Gharkan." Kassius looked down from the rock where he sat, feeling the wind through his brown hair.


    Gharkan kept pulling his black hair away from his face.


    "I would tell our men to form defensively at the gates. By Tengri, I have grown tired of all the nothingness that happens in this village. Hopefully, this is at least something to stay for, huh?"


    "Sir Gharkan," Kassius muttered. "Come see them from here. It''s much better."


    The rider loped up the hill, where the trees had been trimmed next to the hilltop forge, where Alana used to live. He stared down, scratching his chin.


    "It looks like a damn festival," Gharkan said. "That is strange. They''re dressed like nuns and are wielding their swords. What the hell is that about?"


    "They''re armed, Gharkan," Kassius said. "They are armed to the teeth."


    Gharkan scoffed and spat on the ground. His slimy spit slid down a blade of grass, and Kassius held back his gag reflex.


    ¡°So let me get this straight," Gharkan said. "Those fools are worshipping the devil that attacked us. Hell, they''re weak-minded. And they''re coming to get us for no reason."


    "Well, according to Commander Florianus, they''ve been doing that all throughout the province, announcing their king, they call it. If we don''t accept it, they''re going to force it with their swords." He turned towards him. "I need you to send someone north with me. We need Alana. I don''t know where she went, whether she''s still at your village or not. All I know is I need her by my side."


    Gharkan wiped his nose with his fingers and chuckled.


    "There''s not much fun here, anyway. I doubt anyone will want to go unless you pay, and frankly, there''s not much to pay. We''re arguing with the old men whether to go back or not."


    "I''ve already talked to your friends, Gharkan. No matter where you go, this fever will reach us. I need her to do my magic. And she has the sword, it''s the only way to face the giants and be rid of this problem."


    "Well," he scratched his head. "I''ll see what I can do."


    He looked at the vast landscape.


    "Yes," Kassius said, staring at him. "I need to be sure I can trust you. Kassara and Florianus may be the best options, along with anyone you may suggest."


    "That old skinny fool is good for nothing. I say you should imprison him. What has he done for you? And women are a hindrance, you know that."


    "Kassara is a great warrior, Gharkan."


    "She should be washing dishes."


    Kassius clenched his teeth in frustration.


    "But especially that old fool," Gharkan continued. "The Flowery man. I think you should have killed them all. I know the story, they raped your women and killed your relatives. Why are you forgiving them?"


    "Hey, barbarian, who the hell do you think you''re talking about?" the Decurion next to Florianus stood up, holding the lance up.


    "Ah, you want to fight, toy soldier?" Gharkan said. "Get that down and let''s fight like men, if you may."


    "Both of you, calm down," Kassius said. "Gharkan, this is not how you should act. We''re at peace, did you forget that?"


    "You don''t meddle in this," Gharkan dismounted quickly. "Here, toy soldier," he said, facing the Decurion. "Let''s do it like real men, hand on hand."


    "Gharkan, behave yourself, Decurion Brutus, I''ll tell your Commander if you¡­"


    "It''s this barbarian of yours who is acting like a beast," the Decurion said, tensing his teeth. "I''ll get the hell out," the Decurion said, turning his back and walking down the rocky road.


    Kassius looked at Gharkan with fiery eyes.


    "Why do you keep doing that, Gharkan?"


    "It''s only natural," Gharkan said. "They hate us for no reason."


    "You started it, Gharkan."


    "This time. I don''t usually start it."


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Kassius sighed.


    "And you''ll have to talk to Florianus about that," he pointed at the crowd marching in the horizon. "I want to talk to you about the other issue later. Now, are you going to do something about these people? What do you think?"


    "Well, they''re our guests, we better show them our legendary Hunatian hospitality."


    ***


    When the Tharcians arrived at the entrance to Adachia, a contingent of fifteen Itruschian soldiers awaited at the gate, along with some Hunatian warriors who had traded their traditional clothes for Itruschian armor, at least momentarily, to give the delegates an image of having things under control. Florianus advanced, mounted on his war horse and stood on the rocky road, surrounded by his men.


    The man who headed the group was a military commander named Nautis, who had been posted there by Larius and had held the same position for two years. Florianus had met him before and recognized the pale face, square jaw, and early white hair.


    "Nautis," Florianus muttered. "It has been thoughtful of you to come and visit us unannounced."


    "Ave, Florianus," Nautis said with a sneaky smile. "Good to see you, especially after the news of the battle you were to face. How was it? I wish to hear of your exploits."


    "You will soon find out, old friend. Why have you come here?"


    Nautis cleared his throat.


    "We have come here to deliver the unfortunate news of the fall of Itruschia, city of wickedness and injustice. However, we also carry glad tidings."


    "Oh, I was aware of our great city falling," Florianus spewed. "And I sincerely hope that order can be restored. And yet, you have my curiosity. What glad tidings do you speak of?"


    Nautis lifted his chin. He stood silent for an instant, as if trying to make the situation more solemn. Then, he raised his voice with pride:


    "The great gods have returned!"


    Florianus scoffed, then giggled. The men around him stood silent. Florianus focused on Nautis'' eyes; he noticed a subtle twitch on his lashes. Then, Florianus'' laughter grew louder and scandalous.


    Nautis'' smile turned into a frown.


    Florianus coughed.


    "I beg your pardon," he muttered through laughter, then looked at Nautis with a grin.


    "You do not understand," Nautis said. "The Itruschian Empire has fallen, the Great Old Ones have returned to usher us into a new golden age. We have come here to tell you to welcome them into your lives, or you shall be destroyed."


    "He has tried," Florianus looked back at the village for an instant. "Your gods did come; he did not come to offer peace, instead, he killed our men, he killed their wives and destroyed their city. And yet, we repelled him. We were half as many as you are. We do not need evil gods. For I have studied the olden texts; I have read the prophecies. Now, depart from here."


    "Then, are you rejecting the gods of the sky? Are you opposing them? Then, you shall be called ''enemy''."


    "So be it," said Florianus, leaning over his horse. "We are ready to battle. We shall never be subjects of your evil gods. Now, go away. And if you wish to fight, we shall fight to the death."


    Nautis delivered a shy glance to the mounted troops behind Florianus, the horde that extended back through the torn buildings, even up throughout the hills.


    "Who are these men?" he asked. "These mounted men with dark skin and hair black as coal."


    "Allies," Florianus spat. "Allies in our fight against the giants."


    Nautis took a deep breath.


    "I warn you, Florianus. We shall give you a week; we shall return."


    "No, Nautis, you will not return," Florianus signaled to the troops; they lowered their lances. Archers from the hills above hid behind leafy branches, their faces painted like the forest, and their weapons pointed at the Tharcian delegation. Nautis looked up and swallowed.


    "This is foolishness," he said. "So, you heard," Florianus said. "You will not return. If you approach even a league from here, we shall be waiting with archers and barricades. We shall ambush you in the forests, we shall destroy each and every one of you. Now, you are outnumbered. It was foolish of you to come. If you want to die for your new gods, so be it. If not, go away, never to return."


    "This is madness!" Neutis shouted.


    "You talk about madness? I have sworn to defend the Empire, and so have you. No matter how dire the situation is, I shall live and die for it. Now get out of our lands, if you desire not death."


    "Madness!" Nautis said, extending his hand; his men looked at each other. Florianus saw sweat dripping from their foreheads. Florianus had given a clear signal, and the archers above spoke for themselves. Nautis could die.


    "Retreat!" Nautis called, and his men turned around. Florianus chuckled. They fled like cowards, giving their backs to them and departed in silence. Florianus shook his head, bewildered at the weak wills and minds of people who had been proud to serve the empire. Now, they had sold their souls to strange gods who had done nothing but buy them and instill fear in their hearts.


    Florianus returned to his office, where the young mutt was waiting, sitting in front of his desk. His missing arm bandaged from the joint to the shoulder.


    "Waiting for me?" Florianus said, hanging his red cloak. "They''re gone. If they return, we will make them eat the dust beneath our feet."


    "Good," Kassius said. His green eyes were piercing and determined, and had a certain eeriness to them, like a man who knew magical secrets. "But I need your help with something else."


    "What do you want now?" Florianus scoffed.


    "I told you before, I need to find Alana and bring her with me."


    Florianus laughed.


    "And what do you want me to do? Now, get off my seat."


    "I need you to come with me." Kassius stood up.


    "Why would you need me? I have to stay here. I have to take care of the legion. My legion and my post!"


    "Because I saw you in my vision. I need you in case something happens."


    "Stop it, boy. This is my responsibility. Now, if you don''t mind, I have things to do. Letters to write, reports to read."


    "Sire, I need you. I saw you in my vision. You are the key to achieving this. Please."


    Florianus laughed, but the word "vision" made him shudder. He knew many great things were at play, larger than himself, and even larger than the Empire and ideals he served. He pursed his lips and glanced at the tall boy with deep emerald eyes, strange, frightening eyes.


    "If I were to go, boy, who would stay in my place?" Florianus asked and found his own answer to be weak. Why was he giving so much importance to a boy, and a traitor, for that matter?


    "Kassara and the Mounted Men."


    Florianus shook his head.


    "I am in charge of the Legion," he said, grabbing a glass bottle with black ink inside and opening it.


    Kassius looked down."I understand that you don''t want to lose Adachia, but it is not yours to keep. Tharcia is not yours, nor anyone else''s really. I cannot promise you that I will give you this or that land, only that we will fight against the giants to the end. Then, we shall see. Now, maybe only Itruschia, and by that, I mean the city and not the land, they may be our only allies in the whole world."


    "Boy, get out. I''m busy."


    "I need you by our side. You hold the key to our survival."


    "What is there for me in your little camping trip?" Florianus looked up.


    The boy pursed his lips.


    "Alana and the sword are the key. The giants may come, and you have the knowledge to fight them. You and I can combine our knowledge of the ancient writings and face them."


    "You already know the sigil. What more do you need?"


    "Believe me, you are the key."


    Florianus crossed his arms. He glanced at the boy, whose body was frail and now even more useless as he was missing an arm, but his strange eyes were fierce, determined, and truthful. Did he have magic in them? And that very boy had saved his life, and that of many of his men.


    "I will think about it. But first, I must write a letter to that foolish merchant in my old home. And if I go, we''ll just get your wife and come back immediately."


    "Good. Now, let''s get ready and be done with it."

 Chapter IX - Deliverance

    Alana crouched on her tent, by herself, sitting with her body curled, but her thoughts were miles away from the camp, beyond the small defensive fence, on the town square. Her stomach turned within; she felt weakness in her limbs, and tears bathed her cheeks. Guilt pressed over her mind like a multitude stomping her underfoot. Ira had been whipped and remained chained against the pillars. And it was her fault.


    She did not want her to be hurt anymore, but the mayor had said they wouldn''t release them until they all yielded to the giants. What would the soldiers think? They would not kneel, she would show weakness, and what would Ira think?


    There was always a solution. That, she knew.


    She tensed her fists. She could attempt what she had done months ago. Could it be feasible? Why had she been so adventurous and brave only a few months ago, and now she feared for her life? Images of battle rang constantly through her mind, of arrows piercing her body and reopening old wounds. They bore on her mind like open sores.


    And she placed a hand over her own belly, gently, over the life that was becoming.


    Suddenly, she heard steps around the tent. She lifted her head and remained attentive, eyes narrow on the entrance.


    A hand passed through, manly, tan, and calloused. She moved back. If she had a weapon with her, she would brandish it in defense, notwithstanding feeling vulnerable and weak. She looked around for small items she could use, like the iron nail she stuck in Larius'' eye. Yes, maybe she could pull that off again with a bronze nail clipper.


    But it was Elkas, and he entered silently, with a finger over his lips.


    Alana stared with a frown.


    "Elkas? What the devil are you doing in here!" She hissed, then stood up. "Get out."


    "I need to talk," he whispered.


    "We talked already, get out! I did not tell you to come into my tent. What are your people going to think?"


    "Relax, they know. They''re outside, guarding us."


    "What in Hades?" Alana raised her hands.


    "We have to make sure the Suevians are not hearing," he cleared his throat. "I have a proposition."


    "Elkas, please stop."


    "It''s not what you think. It''s about Ira."


    Alana released a long breath. She looked around and sat in front of him. She lowered her voice even more.


    "Tell me. Do you mean¡­ A plan to release her?" Alana asked.


    He nodded.


    "I thought you''d never ask," she smiled. "Tell me your ideas, and I''ll tell you yours."


    "Well, Raxana''s brother is trying to make smoke signals, but I doubt the bandits will catch them." He cleared his throat and lowered his voice even further. "I''m going to go get Ira. We managed to steal a few knives, and I have some swords that we kept inside. There are four Suevian soldiers patrolling our camp. They take turns and just walk around, looking for anything suspicious."


    "Why didn''t you tell me you had weapons? Let me have one."


    "Sure," he said with a sigh and passed her a small curved dagger. "And I''ll go."


    "Wait, wait," Alana said, checking the dagger. It was the usual pugio, standard army issue, encased in a sheath of hardened leather. She drew it - eight inches of slightly corroded iron that hadn''t been taken care of as it should have. Its body was shaped like a gladius or the body of a female figurine. "Good enough. But do you see how they are guarding us? If they see you, they will find you and punish the rest of us. They could even catch you. I saw the four soldiers too, but they can see each other. If they notice something wrong, they will spot you."


    "They won''t catch me."


    "If only Kassius was here to guard us with the sigil," Alana sighed.


    "What sigil?" he asked.


    "He had one not to be seen. I didn''t really believe back then, but just to be sure," she said, lifting her head.


    "Give me another idea then."


    "You''re used to battle in front, not stealthy stuff," Alana scratched her chin. "Kassara gave us some ideas on that. Because if you try to incapacitate one of the soldiers, he may scream and they''ll get you. That would alert the whole squad. But if we have a solid plan to infiltrate..."


    "You said ''we.'' You mean you want to come with me? And what do you mean, ''infiltrate''? I say I''ll hide until the guards are not watching, run to the side of the camp, and climb the walls."


    "Climb the wall? That ditch is covered with spikes. Can you even climb it? It''s like six yards tall," she cleared her throat. "Listen, what if we dress up and go in through the main door."


    "Are you kidding me?" Elkas scoffed. "How do you want me to do that? They won''t let me in."


    "If they don''t, we''ll try something else. I mean, give them an excuse. I know, they have taverns inside, so you can tell them you''re going to the tavern to get a drink."


    "Do you think they''ll let me in, just like that? If they do, they''d keep their eyes on me like archers."


    "Well, we can do that. But we can also do magic," Alana said, scratching her chin. "I''m thinking of something. What if I come with you? Hiding."


    Elkas raised an eyebrow, and Alana stood up, walked to the corner, and put on her cloak and a blanket that reached down to her feet.


    "Do you have a winter coat?" she asked. "A big one, I can hide behind your cloak and when you enter the bar, I''ll get close to Ira and let her go."


    Elkas started laughing with his big white teeth and shook his head.


    "This is the dumbest thing I''ve ever heard," he muttered between laughs. Then, he opened his eyes wide and pointed at Alana. "If they catch us, it''ll be worse."


    "It would be, but... Do you prefer attacking up front?"


    "Well, if there''s a way of telling the odds. It''s a bet, but this idea is frankly stupid. No offense."


    "Let''s try!" Alana said, jumping to her feet. "Just find a big coat and..."


    "This is the dumbest thing ever," Elkas scratched his head. "I''m just picturing it in my mind, and it would look terrible."


    "Elkas, let''s give it a try." "Are you walking behind me? I will look like I have four legs. What if Askar and you impersonate a horse?" he added sarcastically.


    "Alright," Alana said. "If you think it won''t work, what about impersonating one of them?"


    "My hair is too short to imitate that bun. Besides, I''m taller than most people here, they would tell."


    "What do you think?" Alana asked with a smile and her chin resting on her hand.


    "Fine," he said, looking out into the night. The noise of crickets filtered through. "Hey," he whispered outside. "Adna, bring us that long overcoat."


    "What?" Adna asked from outside the tent.


    "Yes, quickly."


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Adna returned with a long overcoat made of wool and passed it through the curtain. Elkas straightened it and shook it off, a cloud of dust emerged from it, then put it over his shoulders.


    "Wait." Alana jumped to her feet. "Take it off again."


    Elkas complied, and Alana stood back to back against him. Her head leaning against the middle of his back.


    Elkas sighed again, frustrated.


    "Alright," he said, and put the coat on, covering her face with it too. "Are you comfortable?"


    "I can''t see, but let''s try to move," she said, trying to keep her legs pressed to his. The coat, however, smelled rancid.


    "Hell, it smells terrible," she sighed, trying to breathe as little as possible. "Alright," she muttered. "Ready."


    Alana heard the curtains being pulled and someone walking in.


    "What¡­" It was Adna''s creaky voice.


    "Don''t laugh, please," Elkas muttered.


    Adna cleared his throat, and Alana heard him chuckle.


    "Well, you look like someone is hiding on your back and she''s very uncomfortable.


    "Are you happy, Alana?" Elkas asked.


    "It''s really dark in here."


    "Can''t you hear their music? They''ve been playing since before dawn. It''s still a feast for them. For some reason. It won''t be dark at all," Elkas said.


    "Alright," Alana said, and turned her face to the other side, now, her cheek was pressed against Elkas'' bulgy back, and the outside of her knees against his calves.


    "Now it looks like he grew a hunch overnight," Adna said.


    "See?" Alana muttered, trying not to breathe in the sweaty smell that oozed from Elkas'' tunic, worse than the smell on the coat. His back was hard, and each one of his muscles bulged like a mountain.


    "Well, let''s go," he said, stepping forward. Alana followed the rhythm of his legs; when his foot touched the ground, she stumbled forward. She had to stay close to him in order to advance without any problem. They tried again.


    "I don''t think this will work¡­" he said, stopping his movement.


    "Let''s try. If not, Adna may keep an eye on us. I think we should act fast."


    "Fine, most have their daggers still. Adna, you can direct them."


    "I already alerted them," Adna winked one eye."Perfect," Elkas said as it was time to try their luck. Elkas moved, Alana still in the dark, breathing slowly and trying to match his steps. Her vision grew even darker as he stepped into the night, and she heard both the singing of crickets and the chanting of people behind the walls, the clinking of vases and laughter of men. If she focused a bit more, she could even hear screams of pleasure.


    Elkas started moving forward.


    "Alright," he muttered, "there are two guards chatting near the entrance. Don''t make a sound."


    "Understood," Alana whispered, still trying to take small breaths and draw as little attention as possible. They walked on for what seemed like an eternity, and the noises of the feast grew louder with every step.


    Suddenly, Elkas braced, and she stopped her movements, attentive to any sound. From above, she could see timid lights illuminating the grass below, and heavy steps drew closer, accompanied by the clanking of metal.


    "Hey, where do you think you''re going?" said a voice, threatening, and in a coarse Suevian accent.


    "Eh, how are you, brothers?" Elkas responded. "All is well with me, I was just interested in the feast. It seems like the people are having a lot of fun like last night."


    "Yes, barbarian," the guard responded. "And it''s not for you, now go back to your sty and lie there, unless you wish to swear allegiance to our brothers."


    "Oh, that," Elkas said. "You know, I''m not sure yet, you know, maybe tomorrow, but I''ll let my friends know. Come on, just let me in tonight. I swear I may change my mind."


    "You know," another Suevian guard said, in thick Itruschian. "We can''t let you in."


    "Come on, it looks like fun. Listen, man, I just want a drink."


    "Go back to your tent, you infidel," said one of the guards.


    Elkas sighed.


    "Well, you asked for it." He reached for his bag. Alana felt Elkas pulling his jacket, and then his hand moved next to her hip, where his leather bag hung. He reached for it and put his hand inside. Alana wondered what he was doing. The coins inside the bag clanked.


    "What is that?" the guard said. "Ah, you are trying to bribe us?"


    "This money is not even good here," the other guard added.


    Alana let out a small sigh. Things were not working as expected. She tensed, handling the cold hilt of her dagger.


    "What was that?" exclaimed one of the questioners.


    "What was what?" Elkas said.


    "I just heard something," the guard yelled. "A sigh, or something."


    Alana felt her body tense up. She swallowed.


    "Who just swallowed?" said the guard.


    "It wasn''t me," Elkas said, lifting his hand and pulling the coat against Alana''s skull.


    "Yeah," Alana heard the voice of the guard ever closer. He was stepping just outside, close to her, and he was circling around Elkas. She felt his body tense up as well.


    "Let''s register him!" said the one with the high voice.Alana lowered her arms. There was no way out. She had to get ready. She had trained for months. But she was pregnant then! Panic surged up her spine and made her lose her breath.


    Suddenly, a fresh breeze caressed Alana''s face, as the coat let go of Elkas'' arms and revealed her in front of a short Suevian guard. The man stared in shock, the light from a nearby flame sparkled upon half of his pale face.


    He reached up for her hair, and instinctively, Alana reached for the knife under her belt and pushed it into the man''s chest. He tried to block it with his hands, but blocking a knife was foolish business. He lost his balance and fell to the ground, Alana held on, not to fall with him, as blood started to filter through the gambeson and tunic, staining his clothes and her hand with blood.


    She turned around, and Elkas had already unsheathed the dagger beneath his robes. He evaded the soldier''s attack and stuck it into the man''s neck. He reached down and unsheathed the man''s sword. Another guard prepared by lowering his lance, his black teeth under the dim fire made him look like a monster from below, then he lunged at Elkas. He dodged and attacked with his sword, but the guard blocked.


    "Help!" Elkas shouted, and dozens of Gadalian warriors stepped out of their tents, unarmed but ready to attack.


    Alana looked down at the man she had just killed. His eyes had lost their lustre, and his mouth was wide open. She looked back, the gate was open, and the path into the village was empty, now that Elkas struggled against the guards. Crouching and keeping her body from approaching the light, she dragged the guard''s body across, for six yards, took out his bloodstained tunic and belt, with a sword hanging from it, and put it on. The Suevian knot protruded from his head. It wasn''t that hard to replicate, she removed the brooch that held it together, grabbed a tuft of her own head in front of her forehead, slightly to the right, tied her hair around it and secured it on the brooch. It fell lightly on her side. She wore her cloak and pranced back to the path, then ran into the village, hiding between the first small houses with blackened windows she found. She crouched between two houses, looking at the path that extended from the side into the town square.


    The houses were silent, and probably empty, and yet she heard the sound of revelry, the banging of drums, lyres, and horns on the other edge of the village. She glanced from the edge of a round house of wood and hay, scanning the landscape around, rapid steps rushed through the rocky path, and she saw a guard running to help their comrades at the gate. That was probably a good sign, Elkas was not yet down.Please note that the following text has been proofread for grammar, punctuation, and clarity:


    She advanced with her back against the wooden walls, attentive to any sound, and praying in her mind. Now, she was more vulnerable than ever. The pain of the arrow that had hit her weeks prior was still burning in her back, and the knowledge that someone was growing inside her fed her mind with a sense of both guilt and dread. She took a deep breath and held the soldier''s sword in both hands, close to her left cheek, and advanced in the dark.


    Soon, she reached the source of their feasting and glanced at a wide open-air shrine that had once belonged to Mercury. The sacred tree stood in the middle, and burning flames illuminated the scene. Dozens of women danced, men and women drank grape wine, and an array of treasures was on display. Among them, Alana glanced at the Sword of Ares, with its green light coming from the sacred Emerald, among the pile of enemy swords. Was it a kind of ritual to thank the giants for delivering them into their hands? Alana blinked in disbelief.


    She had to get past that area, but the road in front was illuminated by the bonfire and wooden posts lightened with open flames. She had to be either quick or slow and innocuous. She decided a small person running could be a bad omen but noticed many of the people in the dancing crowd were wearing their armors. She took a deep breath and started walking through the main path.


    From there, she caught a glimpse of a human figure tied to the post. She started walking faster when she suddenly heard a cry that made her jump in fright.


    "Look, there!" said a voice from within the vast crowd.


    The multitude in the shrine groaned in awe and curiosity.


    "Oh, by the gods, they are fighting the rebels."


    The crowd rushed out of the shrine, and she kept striding, her face low, showing the bun on her face, trying to look like one of them. She passed through the illumined area and walked again towards the dark, where she narrowed her eyes.


    Ira was still bound, her hands tied above her head, her face and neck forward. Alana''s heart raged both in compassion and rage.


    From the corner, she saw two guards standing in the dark, their faces directed towards the road. She took a long silent breath and moved to the side, hiding behind the stall of the cheesemaker''s house. Alana knelt behind it and waited.


    The guards glanced curiously at the other side but would not leave their posts. Alana kept her head low and decided to circle the building. The wooden house was small, but the back was covered with a huge lawn.


    Suddenly, a loud bark echoed around her and made the hair on her neck stand. A spotted white dog jumped from the back side. Its eyes sparkled almost yellow in the dark, and its white fangs shone like sharp knives. She also jumped a foot away, and the dog barked in fury, its roar hammering her ears.


    "Damn dog," cried one of the soldiers on the other side of the house.


    Alana kept her back against the wall. The dog barked furiously, snarling and showing its demonic teeth. "Shut up, you damned animal!" scowled one of the guards.


    Alana kept her back pressed against the opposite wall and moved swiftly, staring at the enraged Alaunt.


    "Hush, little dog," she whispered, but when the dog jumped, she blinked in fear. The dog stopped mid-air, and the collar and chain that held it rattled.


    Alana swallowed and kept walking around. She got close to the other side, where she could see the pole to which Ira was still bound. The light did not hit that section of the square. The soldiers were still with their eyes turned toward the exit. She took a deep breath and walked on the edge of her heels, making sure her boots did not make a sound.


    Alana advanced, and from there, Ira''s hands and back could be seen. They were not moving at all. She hoped they were still fine.


    "Hey, who''s that?" screamed a rugged voice. Alana saw the soldiers pointing at her. The flames reflected off their chain-mail and the axes in their hands. One of them held a large bow, nocking an arrow and aiming at her.

 Chapter X - Noble Blood

    The red flags of the Itruschian Empire rose again among battered ruins, fallen walls, and crushed pillars. The night sky brimmed under fiery lanterns encased in iron and glass, while icy rain poured over the makeshift roofs.


    Sixty men gathered under a solid roof, guarded by fiery lanterns in golden frames, and the sound of the pouring rain resonated outside. Cladius stood in the front, next to a man with grey hair and a thin but muscular body. He was not wearing a senator¡¯s toga, but a green vest beneath a red cape. An Imperial flag hung from the wall behind his back, the Golden Eagle, a symbol of unity and power that now seemed superficial and vain.


    The men who had assembled sat back in orderly rows. Their appearance was noble, many of them sporting Eastern silk and bracelets of gold, rings adorned with rubies, and belts with silver rims. Most seemed to have taken a great deal of time and effort in reporting to the meeting.


    Cladius frowned slightly and raised his right fist. ¡°Hail to our great Empire! Hail to the Eagle of Jupiter!¡± he shouted, with his most effortful impersonation of military strength.


    ¡°Hail to the Eagle of Jupiter!¡± the attendants responded, except for an old man with a long grey beard.


    Cladius took a deep breath and commenced his speech.


    ¡°Welcome, free men, citizens, and leaders of our great Empire! Today, we share our grief for the thousands we lost, among them fellow leaders, brothers, sisters, and friends. We extend salutations and eternal honor for the many killed by the demons that attacked us. And yet, we shall show the world that its queen, the Sacred Itruschian Empire, lives on and shall fight and be a lighthouse to the ship of the world, no matter how difficult the task and how dire the times.¡±


    Cladius looked at the attendants, many glanced at him with respect, but he noticed others with crossed arms, defiant glances, and clenched teeth. He had met them sparsely and were not politicians but patricians related to the Imperial Family, the line of heirs that could be traced back to the founders of the city.


    ¡°Now, we would like to establish, along with you, a new senate, not quite a Senate, since we need the full support of the people, but a provisional one, a leadership council where we can share information and ideas. My colleague Adalbert, for now, the only other surviving member of the Senate, accompanies me today.


    ¡°So a man from beyond the southern sea and a barbarian,¡± muttered one of the patricians at the back. Cladius narrowed his eyes.


    ¡°Excuse me, who said that?¡± Cladius said, raising his hand.


    The one responsible straightened on his seat, kept his defiant glance, and frowned.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Kassius said. ¡°And yet, this is what it¡¯s left.¡±


    A commercial delegate rose from the middle of the group, looking back toward the place where the comment had started. ¡°Cladius Duodecimus is a good man, an excellent administrator, and a lover of this Empire, and so is Adalbert. These are good leaders, and if you don¡¯t believe it, let them prove it to you with acts.¡±


    ¡°Now, enough of these comments,¡± Cladius said. ¡°We must deal with the topics at hand.¡±


    ¡°We need the Empire to return to stability!¡± Julius, another patrician, rose from his seat at the back. ¡°We failed the gods. Our Empire was not holy but bureaucratic; it followed the will of men and not of the gods.¡±


    ¡°What do you suggest?¡± Cladius said, resting one hand on the pulpit of stone.


    ¡°To search for the blood of the Emperors, the purest patrician blood, and elevate them to the Throne. The world is going to face dangerous events. We need to stay united. I beg of you, Senator Cladius, to investigate Imperial heirs and build a government as it should have been.¡±


    ¡°Why would we need an Emperor!¡± stated Humbertus Claris, chief of the city guard.


    ¡°An affront!¡± cried Evarius, a man of the oldest patrician families, with skin so pale it was almost transparent and a thin nose shaped like a drop of water. ¡°Imperium is the foundation of this city.¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Adalbert stood up, next to Cladius. His accent was coarse and guttural. ¡°Can you not see what¡¯s at stake? Your women and children are hungry! We have received reports of the cities up north and to the west becoming hostile toward us. We have a problem of lack of drinking water, and yet you speak of royal families and blood?¡±


    ¡°Indeed, Adalbert,¡± Cladius said. ¡°It¡¯s necessary to cover those topics first. And let me know if you recognize this committee. I am not setting myself as a leader over us. Our voices are all the same, and stone me if I want to usurp power. I would like to address the first topic at hand. So, let me start: We have had a voluntary system of donations for the families in need, but unfortunately, it is impossible to distribute to most families.¡±


    ¡°There are priorities,¡± one of the patricians interrupted.


    ¡°What do you mean, sir?¡± Cladius asked.


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    ¡°There will not be enough food. You should deliver the basic food according to rank. Those of noble birth should have it first.¡±


    ¡°We are now talking about how to get food to everybody,¡± Cladius said. ¡°Some people are not able to provide for themselves. If your grain stowage bunker was destroyed, put it on a list.¡±


    ¡°Everybody, even slaves?¡± asked another.


    ¡°We are trying to feed everyone,¡± Cladius clarified. ¡°We will need each and every capable hand against what¡¯s coming. You saw it. So, on that accord, I would like to propose Adalbert¡¯s idea for a weekly fast that will pay for a community meal in each part of the city.¡±


    ¡°We eating with the slaves and libertae?¡± Julius almost fell off his chair.


    ¡°Yes, what is wrong with that?¡± Cladius asked.


    Evarius looked at his companions, his mouth turned in an expression of disgust, glancing at them as if the suggestion was obviously disgusting.¡±And we have another problem,¡± Cladius continued. ¡°You have heard the rumors, and we shall discuss all the information available on the subject. The giants we fought, in a strange and unknown way, have gathered support in the villages. We have to reorganize the defenses of the city. The North Wall has to be reconstructed immediately.¡±


    A man stood at the back of the room.


    ¡°You, black man, you are guiding this assembly like a dictatorship. Who selected you as dictator?¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± Cladius touched his own chest. ¡°No, I am just moderating this discussion. Whoever wants to talk may do so.¡±


    ¡°And who are you?¡± the man asked. ¡°Who is the barbarian next to you?¡±


    ¡°We are senators, selected by the People of Itruschia.¡±


    ¡°You are fools who are attempting to ensnare us and want the power for yourselves. What is your claim to power aside from bureaucracy and deceit? For it has been deceit that brought you to the senate. You are obviously not an Itruschian of the noblest birth, you do not belong to these people.¡±


    ¡°My blood is not of your concern,¡± Cladius said.


    ¡°We here are descendants of the gods, and you two are children of foreign slaves,¡± the man stood up, pointing at them with a finger of scorn.


    ¡°Kings or slaves, what is the difference? It is our deeds and actions that have brought us where we are,¡± Adalbert said.


    ¡°I shall not be part of this travesty!¡± the man rose from the seat and turned his back.


    ¡°That was the emperor¡¯s cousin,¡± Adalbert whispered in his ear.


    Julius got up.


    ¡°Come to me when you have an orderly plan,¡± he said before walking out.


    Cladius narrowed his eyes. Those men had grown apart from their subjects, even of the free citizens of Itruschia.


    ¡°We are loyal to the Senate!¡± said the chief of the guard, raising his head. ¡°You two hold the power of the Senate, and we shall follow you.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± repeated a few others, mostly smaller patricians and public servants. ¡°Hail the Senate! Senate and people of Itruschia.¡±


    ¡°We should be more careful, Cladius,¡± Adalbert said, as the last of the attendees departed through the damp main street.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Cladius raised an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s been fruitful. We know who is willing to help the people. Those are the people who are fit to rule¡ªthe ones who are ready to serve our Empire, not hold the power and wealth for themselves.¡±


    ¡°Those men who oppose you will not remain with their arms crossed while we reorganize their city.¡± Adalbert sighed. ¡°You are a threat to their power.¡±


    Cladius took a deep breath.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean you should be careful. Surround yourself with people who can defend you. I can provide you with some of my men¡ªthey are loyal and strong. The Praetorian Guard selects men from my mother¡¯s tribe.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Cladius ran a hand through his curly hair. ¡°What can I say? I think I don¡¯t need it.¡±


    ¡°Where are you living?¡±


    ¡°In the communal place, but don¡¯t worry about me, Adalbert. The people around me are kind.¡±¡±It¡¯s a bad idea. Come live at my place. Be careful,¡± Adalbert pointed a finger at him. ¡°These people are not to be trusted. They would do anything for power. They are ready to kill.¡±


    ¡°Me? Move to your place?¡± Cladius sighed. It had been stressful for him to move, and it had taken him days. He shook his head. ¡°Listen, Adalbert, my daughter has already made friends. It would be difficult for her, besides, it would take a whole lot of time.¡±


    ¡°Are you joking, Cladius? It¡¯s easy to get someone from the building to make an attempt on your life for a couple of gold coins.¡±


    ¡°I never paid for security, and I never had any problems, Adalbert.¡±


    ¡°You never experienced a serious crisis. Now you better be careful. Very careful.¡±


    Cladius took a deep breath. He had never felt fear. He knew nothing of fighting nor self-defense, but he believed in the goodwill of the Itruschian people.


    ¡°Things are going to change,¡± Adalbert said. ¡°It¡¯s already worse than when the barbarians invaded. Be prepared.¡±


    ¡°I will think about it.¡±


    Suddenly, they heard soft steps around the door. They both looked at the door, and Adalbert grasped the handle of his sword.


    The man who came through the door was of average size. His head was completely bald, almost shining with the reflecting light. His eyes were deep and green, and his clothes were like nothing he had ever seen. His robe was yellowish, almost golden, with wide shoulder pads and rhombus patterns of different shades. His face sported a sparkling white smile.


    The man did not look threatening, and Adalbert lowered his hand.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± the man muttered. His voice was deep and rich.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Adalbert asked.


    ¡°A wanderer.¡±


    ¡°And how did you get past the guards?¡± Adalbert shook his head.


    ¡°They were glad to receive my gifts.¡±


    Cladius narrowed his eyes. He felt as if he had seen the man before.


    ¡°You must worry not, I am just here to offer my treasures of knowledge and peace.¡±


    ¡°What treasures?¡± Adalbert asked, frowning and clenching his teeth in disgust.


    ¡°The gift of power and life unending.¡±


    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± Cladius asked.


    ¡°What you have heard, the power not to die, the power to live forever.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Cladius, another snake oil salesman,¡± Adalbert said.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Cladius said to his colleague, then looked back at the strange man. ¡°Tell us who you are,¡± Cladius said.


    ¡°I have been called by many names,¡± the man said, extending his hand and grasping Cladius¡¯ forearm. Cladius blinked in surprise and felt as if the weight of the stranger¡¯s hand multiplied, capable of pulling him down with a flick of the wrist. He felt strangely weak, as if he could die in that very moment. He opened his eyes wide. The man spoke again, revealing perfectly white teeth. ¡°I just need you to swear allegiance to me and my Master and your undying service.¡±


    Cladius sighed and tried to pull his hand away.


    ¡°You lost your family, Senator Cladius. Your poor wife Lukrezia, your children. Oh, my child, I pity you.¡±Cladius felt a shiver run down his spine. He felt dizzy and breathed rapidly. The man¡¯s green eyes pierced him as if delving into his soul.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Cladius asked.


    ¡°A man of power. Now, swear your allegiance or prepare to be condemned.¡±