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Two barbarians don't make a horde


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There wasn't even the variety in fabrics worn by the Romans, not really - linen and wool and cotton, leather for belts and sandals and vambraces and the like. But no fur (well, that was understandable - it was far hotter here than it was for a great deal of the year on the steppes). Jason had seen silk, though only on the extremely wealthy women; his own people had traded much further east for that, but it wasn't limited to just the women of his people.

Of course Cinnia couldn't stay out here; Jason couldn't stay for too much longer himself. He looked up at the sky, too, marvelling how small it seemed here, though it was just as clear and blue as it was on the vast plains of his home. "I am glad you did come out here; it was nice to talk with you and get to know you better."

He showed his own wrist, the small cut now scabbed over. "I hope it scars," he said. It didn't matter too much if it didn't, but if it did, it would be a tiny permanent visual reminder that they weren't alone here any more.



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