Eagles at War: The Shrine - a new short story, about the main character in my new novel, which comes out in April. I got the idea for the story when visiting the incredible little museum at the former shrine to Magna Mater and Isis, which lies beneath a shopping arcade in Mainz. Its been buzzing around my head so much since that I decided I had to write it before I began book two. I plan to make it available on Amazon and other media gratis. Mogontiacum, Germania 6 BC Lucius Calvinus Tullus let out a loud, luxurious belch. The soldier in front of him turned with a truculent expression, but seeing the optio’s helmet tucked under Tullus’ arm, kept his peace. The wine that Tullus had consumed had thrown him into a jovial mood, so he affected not to have noticed the legionary, concentrating instead on the road before them. Narrow, paved, winding, and lined with tombs, it led in one direction towards the large military camp and the town of Mogontiacum, and in the other to the settlement of Borbetomagus. At his back, adjacent to the River Rhenus, was the local amphitheatre, and on the other side of the road was the grand monument that honoured Drusus, beloved general of the local legions and stepson of the emperor. The thoroughfare was packed with hundreds of legionaries and civilians, come to watch the annual foot race that formed part of the celebrations commemorating Drusus’ death three years before. Tullus had done well to secure a spot in the last section, which afforded views right up to Drusus’ tall, marble-faced memorial, where the contest would end. A cluster of high-ranking officers and civic officials watched there, from the comfort of a wooden stand that had been erected for the occasion. Tullus, a solid individual with close cut brown hair and a long jaw, had been passing through Mogontiacum the day before, and it had seemed a fine plan to stay for the race, in which soldiers of his old legion, the Twenty First, would also compete. Although legionaries of the Eighteenth, his new legion, would also be taking part, Tullus didn’t feel he could support them. Thanks to his recent promotion to centurion, his entire future lay in Vetera, with the Eighteenth. Until his journey ended some two hundred miles downriver, however, he technically hadn’t yet joined his new unit. Tullus’ loyalties still lay with the ‘Rapax’, the legion in which he’d served since joining the army as a stripling youth, more than a decade earlier. To this end, he’d bet fifty denarii on both Fusco and Justus, the two best athletes in the Rapax. Winning twelve denarii to every one he wagered had been most appealing. Out of principle, Tullus had even placed twenty denarii on the best of the Eighteenth’s runners, although the fifteen to one odds made it unlikely that he’d ever see a return. More to come...
Posted on: Fri, 19 Dec 2014 16:20:51 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015