Sol Invictus by Ben Gartner

Author:Ben Gartner [Gartner, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Crescent Vista Press

By the time Crocus returned with two dead animals slung over his shoulder, Aurora and John and Sarah had set up a nice little campsite. They’d cleared an area, built another lean-to shelter, and formed a circle of rocks for a firepit. Aurora stuck a couple of Y-shaped branches on either side of the fire ring where a stick could be laid across as a spit to roast the meat.

While Crocus used the fine edge of a sharp rock to skin and gut the two fat marmots he’d managed to spear, John used the flint to start a fire. It took a few attempts and his hopes waned with the damp kindling, but then Aurora added some dry needles that erupted into flame. John nearly jumped for joy.

“Oh man, I’ve never wanted to eat marmot more in my life,” John said, eyeing the large squirrel-like creatures. He’d seen a few marmots in the Rockies, but the Alps version had a stockier build.

More meat, he thought.

“Like you’ve ever wanted to eat marmot?” Sarah chided.

“Yeah, um . . .”

“These are two big ones,” Crocus said. “We’ll eat plenty tonight!”

“Thank you, Crocus!” John exclaimed. “Three cheers for Crocus!”

“Woo-hoo!” Sarah added.

Crocus nodded once as if he wasn’t used to being thanked for hunting and providing.

Aurora laughed at their exuberance, but John was sincerely giddy. He couldn’t wait to eat. He was starved!

Things were looking up. Well, besides the fact that they were trapped in time again. But John didn’t want to think about that right now. In fact, he could barely think of anything except the meat slowly spinning over the fire, the gristle popping and the barbecue scent driving him mad.

“Is it ready?” he asked again.

“You’ve waited this long, just a few more minutes,” Crocus answered. The sun had gone down and the cloud cover had sunk all the way to the ground. A thick fog surrounded them in a cocoon of firelight.

John warmed his hands over the crackling coals, tempted to wrench a leg from the animal spinning in front of him, teasing his belly. The flames threw shadows across Crocus’s face, his eyes wide, mesmerized by the dancing blaze. John wondered what he was thinking about.

While Crocus stared at the fire, Sarah stared at Crocus, then wondered aloud about the tattoo of LIV along his right jawline. “Who’s Liv?”

Crocus realized Sarah was speaking to him and did a double take. “Who?”

“Liv, your tattoo.” She gestured to his face.

Crocus rubbed his cheek on his shoulder, dropped the poker stick from his hand, and pulled up the fabric of his tunic in a failed attempt to cover his face.

“It’s no one.”

“You’re embarrassed to talk about her?” Sarah prodded.

Crocus scrunched his brow. “It’s not a person. It was my number.”

“What d’you mean?” John asked, curious to hear it wasn’t a name as he and Sarah had suspected.

“After Lingones, where my father was killed by the scar-faced Roman—”

“Marcus,” Sarah said.

“Yes, Marcus,” Crocus sneered. “I was taken as a slave and sold to a man who bought me for his venator school.

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