Chapter 11

“This is a fabulous tale you have me following.” Cato chuckled. “You say these men turn into wolves at night, it is truly a tale for the gods.”

“Is it not possible for such a thing to be?” Flaithri demanded.

Cato pondered over the boy’s response. He was elated when he had finally gotten the boy to speak. He could not stand the young man standing there, silently watching as he bathed in the frosty waters of the river.

The river itself was barely deep enough for Cato to sit waist-deep, yet Cato had made do. He was a Roman soldier; he was used to the harsh realities of the world. It was times like these that made him appreciate not falling for the luxuries of officer life.

“I would think,” Flaithri continued. “For one who constantly addresses his gods that the idea of monsters would be common enough.”

“The gods work differently in reality.” Cato mocked. “Such tales we keep for our children.”