Chapter IV

My sword stabs through his leg as if it were pulp. The warrior had briefly let his guard down, and that'd been his end. He drops to one knee and I quickly deliver the final blow. I am simply his death, not his executioner.

I cannot watch him collapse, as an axe comes at me from the corner of my eye. I raise my shield and take the hit. It drives me further into the mud, but at least I didn't lose my head.

I thrust my sword forward, under his shield, into his stomach. Blood gushes out of the wound and his grip on the axe loosens, causing it to fall to the ground in the middle of the fighting. His eyes are blank as he falls forward with his hands clutching the wound. I have to step back to prevent him from falling against me.

When he falls face-first into the mud, his helmet rolls away. When I look at it, all I can think of is Lucius. Some time ago, I lost him in the thick of battle. Now that the armies have thinned out and I have more time to breathe, fear locks unto my heart. I have to find him, I have to make sure he is still alive.

I grab a horse that's lost its rider and mount up. I gallop through the legions, mowing down Germans left and right. But no sign of Lucius. I must find him.

I am afraid. For I know that all heroes must die. I look over the fighting crowd, the red of the Roman uniforms mixing with the blood and mud. The field is slippery, but I gallop on.

Then I freeze.

No.