22.01.2024 Views

The Tyrant's Tomb

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

told me some prophecy lines, just for me…. Only fire could stop the

emperors, kindled by the most precious firewood, on the bridge to camp. I

guessed that she meant the Caldecott Tunnel. She said New Rome needed a

new Horatius.”

“Horatius Cocles,” I recalled. “Nice guy. He defended Rome by holding

off an entire army single-handedly on the Sublician Bridge.”

Frank nodded. “I…I asked Ella not to tell anyone else. I just…I kind of

had to process it, carry it around by myself for a while.” His hand went

instinctively to his belt line, where the cloth pouch no longer was.

“You could’ve died,” Hazel said.

“Yeah. ‘Life is only precious because it ends, kid.’”

“Is that a quote?” I asked.

“My dad,” Frank said. “He was right. I just had to be willing to take the

risk.”

We remained quiet for a moment, considering the enormity of Frank’s

risk, or perhaps just marveling that Mars had actually said something wise.

“How did you survive the fire?” Hazel demanded.

“I don’t know. I remember Caligula burning up. I passed out, thought I

was dead. Then I woke up on Arion’s back. And now I’m here.”

“I’m glad.” Hazel kissed his forehead tenderly. “But I’m still going to

kill you later for scaring me like that.”

He smiled. “That’s fair. Could I have another…?”

Maybe he was going to say kiss, or sip of nectar, or moment alone with

my best friend, Apollo. But before he could finish the thought, his eyes rolled

up in his head and he started snoring.

Not all my bedside visits were so happy.

As the morning stretched on, I tried to visit as many of the wounded as I

could.

Sometimes I could do nothing but watch as the bodies were prepared for

an anti-zombie washing and final rites. Tarquin was gone, and his ghouls

seemed to have dissolved with him, but no one wanted to take any chances.

Dakota, longtime centurion of the Fifth Legion, had died overnight from

wounds he received fighting in the city. We decided by consensus that his

funeral pyre would be Kool-Aid scented.

Jacob, the legion’s former standard-bearer and my former archery

student, had died at the Caldecott Tunnel when he took a direct hit from a

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!