Fists of Iron: Barbarian of Rome Chronicles Volume Two Read Free

to unleash their small but deadly missiles.
    Drilgisa focused his gaze on the rapidly approaching tree line. His breath came in heaving gulps and his leg muscles burned hot as the hill’s gradient took its toll.
    Reaching the spur he snatched a quick look to his sides. He saw that he had outpaced most of his countrymen and that he would soon reach the trees. He had no idea how many or how few were still behind him, and he dared not stop to look back.
    The forest called to him, only moments away. His breath now came in great painful rasps, his mouth hanging open. A few warriors had reached the forest ahead of him, great whoops of relief ringing out as they entered the canopy of trees. He felt his legs wobble, and then he collapsed forwards. His face cut a gouge in the earth, dirt and bits of grass forced into in his eyes, nose and mouth. His nose was bleeding and his eyes watered. He had little strength left but he knew he had to get up; the forest was barely twenty strides way. There was a tight pain in his chest and a buzzing web of blackness before his eyes. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision.
    Clenching his teeth, his muscles screaming their protest, he pushed himself to his feet. His head felt light but he forced his legs to move unsteadily forwards. Nearly there, a little further and I’ve made it . He grinned wryly, reminding himself that he was more of a man than his fucking pig of a father ever was.
    Nearing the tree-line, he sucked in the leafy odour. Then his vision cleared for a moment and he saw a large male fox stood watching him from the shadows at the forest edge, its eyes shining like burnished copper. He took another step forwards, this time a little steadier, his strength slowly returning. He studied the fox, saw its body shake. He looked into its eyes and saw the raw fear there and the sly cunning too. The fear of man and beast had always given him pleasure, as his own young fear had fed his father’s perverse tastes. Staring deep into the fox’s eyes he savoured what he saw.
    For an instant Drilgisa heard the rush of air, then darkness washed over him.

Chapter 2
     
    POMPEII 14 A.D.
    The villa of Magistrate – Gaius Caesilius Ralla
     
     
    Gaius rose slowly from his seat to greet his son as he entered the villa’s enclosed garden. He knew it was one of his son’s favourite places, where he had spent much of his time when his wife had been alive.
    He greeted his son with a kiss to the forehead. He smiled, realizing that his son was almost the same height as himself and growing fast. Holding him at arm’s length he inspected him closely.
    “I see your mother in you more each day,” said Gaius. He drank in his son’s gentle grey eyes, pale skin and light brown hair; so unlike his own dark locks and swarthy complexion, so un-Roman. He squeezed his son’s slim arms, adding with a grin, “I see we still need to build you up, put some muscle on your bones.”
    Clodian grinned in turn, taking no offence.
    “Come, sit, I have some important matters that I wish to discuss with you.”
    The Campania sun was hot despite the cooling sea breeze, and Gaius had placed two chairs in the shade of the garden’s apple trees.
    He cleared his throat before speaking, feeling a little uneasy, knowing that his son would not be happy with the decisions he’d already made. But hopefully not too unhappy, as he loved the boy very much and had no wish to upset him. However, being the son of an influential patrician like himself had responsibilities – responsibilities that Clodian would now have to face up too. Knowing the boy’s nature, he had put off this discussion for too long.
    “First, I wish to discuss your studies,” Gaius began.
    “Have I not studied hard enough father?” queried Clodian, wearing a puzzled look. “My tutor tells me I have not done badly in my Latin studies, and my study of history and arithmetic too?”
    Gaius sighed, knowing this would be difficult.
    “I have no concerns