was a short, squat redheaded man who was doing this with the nonchalance of someone performing a task he’d done countless times before. His face was blank, and a corncob pipe dangled from one side of his mouth. He took a puff between each stroke.
It is 1783 A.D. The world’s population is roughly 900 million, of which only 3.6 million are part of the fledgling United States, announced seven years ago on the 4 th of July; even though fighting with Britain had stopped, the war was technically not over on the 15 th of March; that would happen in September with the Treaty of Paris; Catherine the Great of the Russian Empire annexes the Crimean Khanate, finishing off the final remnant of the Mongol Golden Horde; the last celebration of Massacre Day is held in Boston; the first public demonstration of a parachute jump is done in France by a man leaping from an observatory; the 1783 Great Meteor passes over the North Sea, Great Britain and France prompting fear and scientific speculation; the Cedula of Population is made into law in Spain, allowing any who swears fealty to Spain and the Catholic Church to settle in Trinidad and Tobago.
Eagle was in a place he had no desire to be.
Some things change; some don’t.
“I do not take pleasure from this,” another man said. The early afternoon sun streaming through the barn door silhouetted his tall figure, easily over six feet. “It is the law and we must respect the law. It is what makes us a nation. You all know this is only a last resort. But she did not just attempt to run away. She tried to go to the British carrying some of my correspondence. That is treason and I have had white men executed for less. I am being merciful.”
The man was keeping his distance, as if by doing so, he distanced himself from the act of his overseer. “That’s enough,” he ordered after the whip struck home once more. The overseer wiped blood off the twisted leather braids with a dirty rag, then coiled it. He hung it on a hook on the side of his belt.
The man giving the orders stepped into the barn and Eagle recognized him. Dressed in a blue uniform, brocaded with gold trimming: George Washington.
Ravenna, Capitol of the Remains of the Western Roman Empire, 493 A.D.
ROLAND SLIPPED IN THE MUD AND BLOOD, which saved his life as the spear struck his chest armor obliquely.
The Goth didn’t get a second chance as Roland took his head off with a single swipe of the sword, the decapitated body tumbling to join three others corpses.
They really had to get better with the timing on this time travel thing , Roland thought as he spun about, ready for more enemies. Twenty feet away, a fifth person, a woman wearing a long black robe, took a step back and vanished into a black Gate. It was gone a second later.
That was different , Roland mused. Now there was no one on the cart path other than four bodies. He checked the forest to either side, not taking the time to ponder the vanishing woman or even the bodies, focusing on staying alive for the moment.
“Centurion!” Several soldiers came running around a bend in the path, swords drawn. Roland went on guard, but recognized they were equipped with the same uniform and armor he wore, and not that of the bodies, which Nada would have said didn’t prove they were on the same side. So, Roland lowered the tip of his sword a little less than an inch, until he could be certain they meant no harm. While one checked the bodies, the others spread out, providing security, which he took as a friendly sign.
It is 493 A.D. The world’s population is roughly 190 million humans; in China, Emperor Xiaowen of Northern Wei begins his campaigns against Southern Qi, which culminates against the opposing Emperor Ming; Patrick, who would become the patron saint of Ireland, dies; the Byzantine Empire, once known as the Eastern Roman Empire, besieges and captures Cappadocia under the command of General John the Hunchback; Christianity has spread far beyond
It is 1783 A.D. The world’s population is roughly 900 million, of which only 3.6 million are part of the fledgling United States, announced seven years ago on the 4 th of July; even though fighting with Britain had stopped, the war was technically not over on the 15 th of March; that would happen in September with the Treaty of Paris; Catherine the Great of the Russian Empire annexes the Crimean Khanate, finishing off the final remnant of the Mongol Golden Horde; the last celebration of Massacre Day is held in Boston; the first public demonstration of a parachute jump is done in France by a man leaping from an observatory; the 1783 Great Meteor passes over the North Sea, Great Britain and France prompting fear and scientific speculation; the Cedula of Population is made into law in Spain, allowing any who swears fealty to Spain and the Catholic Church to settle in Trinidad and Tobago.
Eagle was in a place he had no desire to be.
Some things change; some don’t.
“I do not take pleasure from this,” another man said. The early afternoon sun streaming through the barn door silhouetted his tall figure, easily over six feet. “It is the law and we must respect the law. It is what makes us a nation. You all know this is only a last resort. But she did not just attempt to run away. She tried to go to the British carrying some of my correspondence. That is treason and I have had white men executed for less. I am being merciful.”
The man was keeping his distance, as if by doing so, he distanced himself from the act of his overseer. “That’s enough,” he ordered after the whip struck home once more. The overseer wiped blood off the twisted leather braids with a dirty rag, then coiled it. He hung it on a hook on the side of his belt.
The man giving the orders stepped into the barn and Eagle recognized him. Dressed in a blue uniform, brocaded with gold trimming: George Washington.
Ravenna, Capitol of the Remains of the Western Roman Empire, 493 A.D.
ROLAND SLIPPED IN THE MUD AND BLOOD, which saved his life as the spear struck his chest armor obliquely.
The Goth didn’t get a second chance as Roland took his head off with a single swipe of the sword, the decapitated body tumbling to join three others corpses.
They really had to get better with the timing on this time travel thing , Roland thought as he spun about, ready for more enemies. Twenty feet away, a fifth person, a woman wearing a long black robe, took a step back and vanished into a black Gate. It was gone a second later.
That was different , Roland mused. Now there was no one on the cart path other than four bodies. He checked the forest to either side, not taking the time to ponder the vanishing woman or even the bodies, focusing on staying alive for the moment.
“Centurion!” Several soldiers came running around a bend in the path, swords drawn. Roland went on guard, but recognized they were equipped with the same uniform and armor he wore, and not that of the bodies, which Nada would have said didn’t prove they were on the same side. So, Roland lowered the tip of his sword a little less than an inch, until he could be certain they meant no harm. While one checked the bodies, the others spread out, providing security, which he took as a friendly sign.
It is 493 A.D. The world’s population is roughly 190 million humans; in China, Emperor Xiaowen of Northern Wei begins his campaigns against Southern Qi, which culminates against the opposing Emperor Ming; Patrick, who would become the patron saint of Ireland, dies; the Byzantine Empire, once known as the Eastern Roman Empire, besieges and captures Cappadocia under the command of General John the Hunchback; Christianity has spread far beyond
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