Oathbreaker: One man's stand against the tyranny of empire by Adam Lofthouse

Author:Adam Lofthouse [Lofthouse, Adam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-10T22:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

I walk through a small town. Children dart around my knees, entangled in a frantic game of tag. The smell of fish oil is strong on my nostrils, causing a burning sensation as the rank smell invades my senses. I can taste it on my tongue, its presence so strong on the air it makes my eyes burn. I blink back tears and try not to think of the lake by my father’s farm, the one he had thrust me in and watched as I writhed and flapped in the endless blue. I used to love fish as a child, but since that horrid day anything to do with water just brings back the pain of betrayal I felt as I slowly drowned, sinking into the silent depth of my doom.

It was autumn when I left, and now the first signs of spring are in the air. It has been a tough winter. Scrounging and stealing food, sneaking into barns after nightfall and praying to the gods the owner doesn’t appear at the threshold with a drawn blade and send me on my way.

Every morning I start with the resolve that this day will make me stronger. Each night I lie on a cold, hard bed and cry for the loss of a mother taken before her time. I wonder how my father is, if he has been able to survive a lonely winter without the comfort of his wife or only son to keep his hearth roaring and stomach full. Thoughts of him turn my mood to ash; my eyes harden and my resolve doubles. Whatever the fates have instore for me, I will not go grovelling back to that bastard. I will not set foot on that lonely farm and admit that I was wrong, that I am too weak to survive on my own. He is dead to me.

There is a commotion to my front, people streaming past me, forming a giant crowd on the edge of something I can’t see. More people rush past, their breath steams the air with their excited gasps and shouts. I push forwards, barging my way through the throng. I’m forced to a standstill and result to craning my neck over the bobbing heads, trying to catch a glimpse of what has caused the excitement.

I see nothing, but the people at the front of the crowd appear to be looking down. I stare around in confusion. Atop the streets of mud and debris there is a collection of huts. Up the top of the hill to my right is a great hall; they say that is where the king lives. The Marcomanni are a big tribe, and their king rules over a great swathe of land on the Danube border with Rome. All winter it has taken me to get here; I am disappointed to find it is not what I expected. Where are the great buildings, the flagstone roads and high walled towns they talk of in the north? The tribes on the shores of the great grey sea talk of the Marcomanni as if they are legends of old.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.