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JULY, 74 CE As he shovelled another pile of manure out of the stall and peered around the wider stable to no sight of a groom, Manius had begun to believe he’d never left Greece. A hundred-thousand denarii in my hands and appointed to one of the most prestigious posts in the city, yet here I am... still covered in shit! A sudden commotion around the exterior of the building would alert Manius to a nearby presence. Resting his spade on the stall’s curtain wall and exiting through the gate, he continued on his path towards the ruckus. A distressed neighing, followed by the thumpi
JULY, 74 CE Ambrosius awoke to the aching of limbs and the cold press of iron shackles against his wrist. He’d managed to achieve some desperately needed rest in the night, despite his stilted position and the makeshift mattress his cage wall provided. Upon noticing the slave stirring, a Roman soldier kicked at the young man’s shin and barked, “Get up!”. Ambrosius’ eyes fluttered a moment, before his face assumed an irked expression. If looks could kill, his captors would currently be the ones at his feet. The Romans would prove to be in no mood for games, as Ambrosius suddenly felt