Wald Afire (The Wald Chronicles, Book 2)
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It is 8 B.C. The once numerous and independent tribes of Germania have been subjugated by a parade of Roman generals. The belligerent Sugambrians are exiled. Berengar is their only survivor. Ermin, the most influential of young Cheruscan nobles, is held captive. Separated from his beloved wald and his betrothed, Thusnelda, Ermin lives in the very palace of Augustus quickly becoming Romanized.
Yet, all hope is not lost. In the dark recesses of the wald, the hungry survivors of the wars cling to the visions of victory seen by the ancient priestess, Rike. Berengar and Thusnelda begin to scrape together a new coalition to free the tribes from Roman rule. They await a true leader. They wait for Ermin’s return.
But Berengar discovers that it is not just the legions he must fight. There are tribesmen who would prefer to accept the power of Caesar rather than the rigors of independence. Ancient jealousies resurface. And worst of all, Berengar battles his own promises as he finds that he loves Thusnelda. Will he steal her from his absent brother-in-arms? Honor and loyalty are in play, as is Germania. Hearts and trees of the wald are burning. It is Wald Afire.
the fort were standing to – apparently convinced that another tribal force may scurry from the woods opposite. Such good fortune could not last long. He grabbed another of his men by the scruff of his neck. “You! Take two men and turn that artillery around. Kill those men!” Berengar pointed at the soldiers on the opposite mound. The palisade groaned at that moment. The burning hulk collapsed inward where the earthen mound was still soft and had not settled hard against the wall’s posts. The two
was sent to Rome. The commander and his entourage had made it to the seaport of Limyra in Lycia. His frail body, burning with wicked fever, was roughly carried into a house Arminius had commandeered with one menacing threat from his cavalry spatha. Arminius was touched by the dedicated work of the medicus throughout the ordeal. The physician stayed by the general’s side until the very end when Gaius’ pulse had slowed to a sluggish, muddled thump. When the hand of the medicus, placed upon Gaius’
your men. Why?” Septimus shrugged. “I don’t know. My leaders tell me the battles are over for now. I am a soldier. I have no care for politics. Attack and defend, that’s my lot. I could ask the same of you. Why are you courteous to me? Is it because you fear some reprisal or because you try to befriend me so that you may shove a spear in my back once I trust you?” Berengar answered quickly, “For me, it’s the second part.” Kolman sighed. Septimus said, “I have no doubt that is your thought
feet. Surely by then the emperor’s own guards would find him hiding in a barn or in the low boughs of an olive tree. The punishment would be horrid and neither he nor his people any better off. And if he was honest with himself, Ermin also wanted to see what had Gaius so excited. Running away could wait. Ermin let Gaius run ahead of him a half step. The pair had run southwest away from the main palace, toward the northwest end of the Circus Maximus. Even though Augustus’ palace was attached to
trudging in the fields. Even his hands were hulking. Berengar won many a bet when he gathered in the halls of his young Cheruscan and Suebian friends. His hands made him Roman coin. After the other men had consumed ample ale, he would boast that if any man’s hands were larger than his, Berengar would give that man a season’s worth of hides. The men all clamored for the bet since he was already becoming famous for his hunting prowess and they knew of the hides covering his longhouse walls. Many of