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Writer's pictureMark Sanders

Chapter Two: Blood

Blogtober 2021 Story Project

The girl moved her lips in silent prayer, her eyes closed. Lucius made his grain and wine offerings to Jupiter as the Legion required, but he had killed far too many men to believe that the gods existed. The old man watched him but didn’t move or speak. He recognized Lucius by his uniform and didn’t approach him.


The Libyan’s eyes followed Lucius as he knelt beside him. Lucius could see fear, but it wasn’t for him, and it wasn’t for death, either. He knew both of those expressions from the battlefield as well, but this was something different.


Lucius placed his hand on the Libyan’s chest, holding it still to let the man know he meant him no harm. The soldier relaxed, and Lucius saw the blood oozing from the wound in his belly. He tore off the hem of the soldier’s tunic and pressed it against the wound to stem the blood, but the soldier pushed it away and shook his head.


“What is he doing?” Lucius asked in Latin. No one answered, so he repeated the words in Greek.


“It’s better that you let him die before the guards return,” the old man responded.


“Why is that?” Lucius asked.


“There were three others here when I arrived,” the man said. “They were unharmed. The guards stabbed them in the belly one by one, then came and took them away.”


“What kind of torture is that?”


“Not torture,” he answered. “Preparation.”


“For what?”


“Like lambs to the slaughter.”

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