The Last Roman: Absolution by B.K. Greenwood

Author:B.K. Greenwood [Greenwood, B.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bat City Press
Published: 2022-03-28T20:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Anyone who experienced World War I close-hand was

grossed out by it forever. It just was so awful.

—Amity Schlaes

December, 1917

Veneto, Italy

Marcus sat on the edge of a large boulder, his gaze fixed on the distant city of Venice and the bright blue Adriatic beyond. Below was the Venetian Plain, a vast, fertile valley that extended from the River Isonzo to the east and River Adige to the west. Behind him were the Prealps, a low set of mountain ranges that sat at the base of the Alps.

It was unseasonably warm, but that didn't mean it wasn't cold. A shifting breeze tugged at his winter coat and dug into the exposed skin of his face. He wore a knit hat under his helmet, and a pair of gloves. The latter he would shed to operate the rifle that lay across his knees. He thought about pulling one off to grab a cigarette from his pocket, but decided against it. He turned when he heard someone approach, his face splitting into a smile.

"Nico, when did you get here?" Marcus asked.

"Yesterday." He was bundled up and carried a thermos with two tin cups. "I had a few loose ends to tie up in London. The Brits got exactly what they wanted when you killed Rasputin, yet they're still grumpy as hell."

"It's just their nature."

Nico sat down beside Marcus and handed him a cup. "Hot coffee?"

"Absolutely." He leaned his rifle against the nearby rock and held the cup with one gloved hand. "I have had nothing warm in a week, unless you count shrapnel and bullets."

"No, those don't count." Nico poured himself a cup and twisted the lid back on the container.

Marcus took a sip, warming his mouth and throat. "This is possibly the worst tasting, best coffee I've ever had."

"Took me quite a while to gather the grounds and find this thing." Nico tapped the thermos. "As you can imagine, they are in short supply."

"Where did you get it?"

"Let's just say a general may not be happy when he gets to the front this morning."

"Generals don't go to the front." Marcus took another sip.

"It's beautiful." Nico looked out across the valley.

"Yeah." Marcus glanced over at his old friend. "Northern Italy is very charming."

"Not so much if the Germans and Austrians get through."

"No, not so much." He nodded toward the valley. "And there's nothing down there to stop them. If they break through, they flank the rest of the Italian army, and there is nothing between us and Rome."

"Then you'll stop them here."

"I suppose." He took another drink, his mind drifting. "We are down to the last summit. Grappa. I'm not sure how much longer we can hold. They use this terrible gas… and flamethrowers." He lifted his left arm. "They can shoot the flames thirty meters."

Nico nodded and looked over at the Roman.

"At least we got some more ammunition today. But if the snows don't come soon…"

Nico nodded. "I know. It'll come."

Marcus didn't reply, he just looked out across the horizon. "I lived down there.

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