The crossing was rough; the roughest that Aureliana had ever known in all the years she had been sailing across the Mare Britannicum. Germanus had known it rougher and gave no indication of being scared.  Quite the opposite; for most of the voyage he was at the front of the lead boat standing up in the bow, almost like a figurehead, rock solid, bolt upright, unmoving. Not to be outdone, Aureliana stood behind him, her long red hair blowing like a vexillum at the mast. Lupus, Lucius, Nonus and many of the soldiery were too ill to be inspired by this vision. When not throwing up, they were too busy thinking about throwing up or even, at the height of the storm, whether they were going to live. Occasionally – very occasionally - when less ill, Lupus wondered what Aureliana would think o...

Please subscribe to keep reading.