“Alright lads, the new day is upon us.” Lingus’ voice echoed through the dusty dining hall.
Dawn had not yet broken, but Cato was determined to have his men prepared before the barbarian princess had the time to wake. He could still see that sly smile perfectly sketched across her elegant features.
Cato shook his head. He needed to focus. They had nine days to get to Eboracum and the rest of the journey was going to be through the dense forests many legionaries had come to dread. Some of the Iceni had called it the Moon Garden. From what Cato could gather, they would be venturing through a land that had been the source of many folktales.
“I heard we are to march through the land of spirits and faeries.” Cato heard one soldier mutter as they staggered out into the plaza.
“I’d be more concerned about the cold than the land of spirits.” Another commented. “AT least you can be certain that the cold will take your fingers.”