61 A.D. (Bachiyr, book 2)
“(Bachiyr, Book 2) @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } 8 Boudica stared at the walls of Londinium. Her horse shuffled, nervous, as though it sensed her reckless mood. She was not above racing into the city, sword drawn, and cutting down every person she found until they managed to kill her. The problem with that plan—as it was with the last two cities—was that her death would accomplish nothing. She would be able to kill a handful of Romans, maybe even a dozen, but the...y would stop her. If they didn’t kill her on the spot she would stand trial and they would kill her later, probably after raping her and beating her again.
The scars on her back burned. The wounds had healed, but faint memories of the pain whispered across the scarred tissue, reminding her that there was more at stake.
As if she could ever forget.
To her right, another horse snorted. She turned to look at Heanua, seated astride a large black mare. Her daughter’s eyes glittered with the reflected light of Londinium’s many torches.MoreLess
The scars on her back burned. The wounds had healed, but faint memories of the pain whispered across the scarred tissue, reminding her that there was more at stake.
As if she could ever forget.
To her right, another horse snorted. She turned to look at Heanua, seated astride a large black mare. Her daughter’s eyes glittered with the reflected light of Londinium’s many torches.MoreLess
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