Chapter 25

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Chapter 25


The night was still and calm as Dareios was relieved from his watch.

The torches along their walls burned in the night sky as they stared out towards the enemy camp, lit up by hundreds of campfires flickering in the distance until, eventually, the fires merged into one gigantic bonfire.

It made his skin shiver to think of all the men crowding around the warmth. It made him think of the last time he had seen a roman army and what it had meant for his friends who no longer walked this earth.

Turning from the sight of what would inevitably be on their doorstep, Dareios headed down the steps and into the courtyard, looking for some food to calm his stomach.

The courtyard was empty, the mud slugging beneath his boots, as he crossed the opened space when he heard something fall towards the far corner.

Lifting his head, his hunger forgotten, Dareios grasped the sword at his waist as he took a step forward.

After a few more steps, his eyes adjusted enough to see a door swinging open in the soft wind.

His heartbeat quickened as a figure appeared from the closet, his arms ladened down with junk.

"Who goes there?" Dareios shouted, drawing his sword, and the figure poised.

Covered in shadow, Dareios could see the person lift their head and regard him curiously. They were deciding what to do next when they spoke and Dareios paused.

"Dareios, stop, it's me. Lazarus!" The voice spoke in a loud whisper as they carefully shut the door and stepped towards him.

Dareios's hand remained on his sword until Lazarus stepped beneath a flickering torch and the flames lit up his face.

Dareios let out a slow breath of relief, sheathing his sword as he did so.

"Lazarus?" He stepped forward, "What are you doing?" Dareios's voice trailed off when he saw what Lazarus was carrying.

It was the uniform of a roman infantryman, the same uniform which Lazarus and his mother had been wearing when they smuggled themselves back into the stronghold.

Lazarus saw where he was looking and his body stilled.

As Dareios looked into Lazarus's eyes, the eyes of his father, he could almost see his youthfulness being stolen and replaced with the burden of being a man.

The boy that had asked Dareios about his mother was gone.

Lazarus said only one sentence and Dareios did not need to hear anymore.

His voice was controlled as he said it, "I need to get her out of there."

* * *

The candles were burning low as their arguments continued and they were still no closer to formulating a plan.

"What about a diversion?" Frieda asked, throwing out any idea that would save her daughter.

"That's how Marcia was captured," Frieda sent Cato a warning look, "Octavia didn't fall for our last diversion, she wouldn't fall for another." Cato quickly added.

"An all-out attack then," Diomed paced the far wall, unable to remain still.

"No," Argyle shook his head, "I cannot permit my men to be-"

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