Excerpts — Historical Fantasy set in Roman Britannia

“I’ve never felt so scared,” Elly said and her words stirred her to action. She pulled herself up from the floor and looked at Prim. “We’re not done yet.” She gave a faint smile. “If they come through that door, we fight. We don’t give up.”

Elly retrieved Nico’s spare sword and his dagger, feeling their unfamiliar weight. She’d watched the guards train enough to understand the basics of grip and stance. She handed Prim his dagger.

“The pointy end goes in the other person,” she whispered, managing a weak smile before they both pressed their ears to the door frame, straining to hear.

The sounds of fighting faded. They heard Nico’s distinctive voice, calm as usual, giving orders to the crew, and relief flooded through them.

“Have we won?” Prim barely breathed the words.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Elly replied.

A knock finally broke the tension. “It’s over,” Tarkus called, and his steady voice was familiar and welcome. “You can come out now.”

When they emerged on deck, they saw Nico standing aboard the raiders’ boat, sword in hand. The crew were already securing the boat.

“Nico!” Elly called out. She gripped Prim’s hand tightly.

“He’s magnificent,” Prim said, squeezing back. She and Elly hugged and danced a little jig of joy, releasing the tension that had built while they waited below.

Nico’s voice rang out. Men leapt between the vessels, securing lines and adjusting sails. Two crewmen rummaged through the longboat’s stores, assessing their food and water supplies. The longboat was quickly readied under the control of half his crew. With a final command from Nico, they set course for home.

Just as the gap between the hulls widened, Nico landed back onto his own ship with a nimble leap. Elly and Prim rushed to embrace him, only to halt in shock as they noticed him covered in blood.

“Don’t worry,” Nico said, noticing their horrified expressions. “None of this blood is mine.”

“Thank the gods,” Elly said, springing into action. She swiftly brought a bucket of water and a rag, and together they worked to wipe away the blood that covered his face and bare body.

He dressed himself and assessed their position. Luckily, the ebb tide had pushed them eastward, which cleared their path home from dangerous sandbanks. Nico remained vigilant, watching for any sign of potential threats on the horizon.

The breeze picked up soon after midday, and the boats headed northwards. Elly and Prim eagerly accompanied him to his cabin, their laughter echoing throughout the ship. He admired their carefree attitude, treasuring how their vibrant personalities meshed so perfectly.

Elly picked up Nico’s dagger, which had dropped to the floor when Tarkus announced the battle was over. As she slid it back into its sheath, the blade sliced across her palm. She gasped, not expecting it to be that sharp. Blood welled up instantly, dark and vivid, and began to run down her hand.

Without thinking, Nico brought her hand to his lips, kissing the wound. He sensed something unusual before he could name it. Not taste exactly, something deeper, as though a chord had been struck in him that he hadn’t known was there. It moved through his entire being, a resonance that harmonised in ways he could feel but didn’t understand. His body responded as though recognising a forgotten melody, ancient and familiar all at once. He felt suddenly alive in ways he’d never thought possible.

He lifted his head, mind reeling, and forced himself to reach for bandages. His hands moved automatically while chaos erupted in his thoughts. What did this mean? Was she immortal like him? Impossible. She was ageing normally. One fact he was sure of. There was a resonance between them that called to his immortal nature.

It was a pleasant, sunny afternoon when they saddled two horses and rode out along the banks of the river, towards the sea. They passed by the Roman track that crossed the river at low tide and rode on until they discovered a secluded spot beneath a shady tree.

Enjoying the peace, they lay down on a blanket and shared a light meal, then arm in arm, they strolled along the deserted beach. Elly sensed Nico was going to say something important and waited, giving him space to begin.

For the first time in centuries, Nico’s usual confidence deserted him. He had lived through plagues, seiges, and countless dangers without fear, yet the thought of revealing his true nature to Elly scared him. His immortality was his most closely guarded secret, carried alone through the centuries. His feelings for her were beyond anything he’d ever experienced, and she deserved the truth, yet that same truth could send her running away screaming.

He had seen it before, the fear, the turning away, the violence that followed. Once, a death, long ago. But he couldn’t hide behind centuries of careful deception, his love for her demanded honesty, whatever the cost, and he steeled himself for a conversation that could determine the fate of their relationship.

He stopped and Elly looked at him expectantly.

He turned to face her, took a deep breath, and began. “When I was a young boy, I was attacked in the woods.” He paused, watching her expression.

“I woke up more than ten years older, looking as I am now.”

Elly stared at him, searching his face for signs of jest, but found only earnest vulnerability in his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely above the whisper of the breeze through the riverside trees. “How is that possible?”

“Are you saying you somehow… aged instantly?” she asked, trying to make sense of the impossible. She studied him intently, looking for some explanation.

“When was this?” she asked, suddenly realising this was beyond strange.

Her questions came faster than he was prepared to answer.

He swallowed, hesitating, knowing this was the critical moment. He looked at her with all the love he had, and said, “Several hundred years ago.”

“Hundreds of years?” The words struck her like a physical blow. Elly stepped back, her legs suddenly unsteady. Her rational mind screamed in disbelief. This defied everything she understood about the world. Part of her wanted to run, to dismiss his claims as the ravings of a madman.

The inexplicable sensations when their souls had connected flashed into her mind, recalling those moments when she’d glimpsed something ancient within him. There had been signs all along. His profound wisdom, his stories that seemed too vivid to be second hand, and the strange way he sometimes spoke as if from another time.

This tempered her surprise. She had always sensed he was extraordinary in ways she couldn’t define.

“Why? How?” she asked to give herself time to adjust. She already knew it didn’t matter what he said, her love for him was enduring and complete, nothing, not even this could shake it.

Nico’s expression became solemn as he carefully chose his words. All the years of keeping this secret, of never truly being known by another soul, pressed in on him.

“I was attacked by a creature,” he said in a low voice. “I crawled into a cave to hide and fell unconscious. When I woke, many years had passed, and I had changed.” He paused, watching her face for signs of fear or horror. “The attack transformed me in ways I still don’t fully understand, giving me abilities no human should possess.”

He reached for her hand, hesitant, uncertain if she would recoil from his touch. “I’ve watched generations pass, Elly. I’ve seen cities grow from villages, wars reshape nations, and the world change in ways you can’t imagine.”

He paused, giving her time. Then whispered, “And in all that time, I’ve never told anyone what I truly am.” His face softened. “Until now. Until you.”

His eyes held hers steadily, vulnerable yet resolute. “I don’t know why I don’t age, or how long it will last. But I know that in all those years, my love for you is unlike anything I’ve ever known, something deeper than I ever thought possible.”

She knew his love with certainty, but the strange word, “abilities,” caught her attention. If he was speaking truth, she needed to see it with her own eyes.

“Show me,” she said.

Without hesitation, Nico vanished. One moment he stood before her, the next he was gone. Elly gasped, her eyes darting frantically around the empty space where he had been.

“Elly!” His voice called from across the river.

She whirled around, spotting him on the opposite shore of the wide river, impossibly far away. Her body reeled from the staggering truth. She raised a trembling hand in response. Here was proof of what a part of her had always suspected. Nico existed beyond the boundaries of normal men. The evidence before her eyes agreed with the whispers she had sensed when they first met, and she found herself embracing this incredible reality with surprising readiness.

Instantly he was back, pulling her into his arms and kissing her, his actions faster than thought. Startled by the rapid sequence of events, perhaps not even recognising it was him, she wrenched herself free.

She hated him.

This was his worst fear. Nico fell to his knees before her, clasping her hands in his. His words tumbled out, revealing the raw terror beneath.

“I love you, darling Elly,” he said, his voice catching. “Please don’t leave me. I won’t live without you. I can’t. I’ll do anything you say, please, give me a chance, anything, please don’t turn me away, stay…” His voice carried the raw honesty of someone who had finally found something worth losing.

Elly erupted in nearly uncontrollable laughter, prompted by the shock of the moment and his earnest expression as he knelt before her. Her mirth cut through the tension, a stark contrast to Nico’s intensity. With a wry smile and a twinkle in her eye, she said fondly,

“Some hero you are.” Her gentle mockery highlighted the beautiful humanity of his fear.

Her laughter masked a profound acceptance of who he truly was. She looked into his eyes. “I should be terrified,” she said gently. “Any sensible person would run. But when I look at you, I don’t see a monster or a demon. I see…” she paused, reaching for words to describe the ineffable. “I see you, Nico. The same soul I recognised the moment we met.”

All their resilience was tested weeks later when the steep paths of the Via Aurelia challenged even divine endurance.

“Neptune, Mars and Epona,” Pegasus wheezed, ears drooping as he climbed yet another slope. The sun grew more intense with each passing day, harsher and drier than anything he’d known in Britannia.

SHE was walking beside him, patting and encouraging him, but Pegasus was too focused on his own laboured breathing to notice this kindness. HE was also on foot. Pegasus knew what HE was. He’d seen that day with the wolves, though he’d never speak of it. HE should know where they were going, probably HADES judging by the heat.

Pegasus surveyed another winding path ahead, grateful that SHE had insisted they start climbing while the air still held dawn’s coolness. He appreciated her thoughtfulness toward the common horses behind them. He was relieved that the Karvan hadn’t made this journey. Last year’s circuit of the fairs had been challenging enough with that colourful wagon. These Mediterranean slopes were steeper than anything in Britannia, climbing endlessly into the burning sky.

The route along Via Aurelia’s coastal sections tested his endurance. His nostrils flared more than usual as he worked to supply his magnificent body with air, and he found himself carrying his head lower than befitted a steed of such noble bearing. But really, what else could one expect?

These weren’t the gentle hills of home.

Behind him, the pack-horses were making pathetic throaty grunts, their loaded backs heaving with each step. Pegasus felt secretly relieved when SHE called for another rest stop, clearly for their benefit.

Near Menton, where the climbs grew more challenging, one of the pack-horses caught its leg against a jagged stone, a shallow cut appearing along its shin. Clumsy fool, but the delay was welcome. It allowed him to rest his trembling legs.

Beauty seemed to mock them all, bounding effortlessly up the slopes. Pegasus chose to ignore her show of superior mobility. After all, the wolf wasn’t carrying anyone, was she?

The constant up and down left his legs trembling in ways he preferred not to acknowledge, and his appetite wasn’t what it should be during their breaks, due to the inferior quality of Mediterranean grass, of course. While carrying HER was always his special duty, these days he preferred less work and more pampering. His flanks quivered slightly, and his joints ached, but surely that was just excitement at conquering another peak?

SHE noticed though. She always did. Each morning they set out earlier, taking advantage of the cool air, and she kept their pace steady but gentle. Pegasus appreciated her discretion. She never mentioned his occasional stumbles or his laboured breathing.

This road was steeper than the last, and never-ending. His legs were shaking with each step now, though he tried to hide it. SHE was walking beside him, stroking his nose and looking concerned at the horses behind him. He saw her exchanging worried glances with HIM.

Then HE was there, running gentle hands along Pegasus’s legs. The touch in many places was painful, as if HE knew exactly where the pain was. HE vanished, that thing HE did sometimes, and returned with water that tasted sweeter than any mountain stream.

The cool splashes on his legs were heaven, though Pegasus maintained his dignity by pretending not to notice how good it felt. When HE offered an apple, Pegasus made sure the other horses could see, and he noticed they only got carrots.

The apple was sweet, but the core tasted wrong, a strange, bitter warmth spreading in his mouth. He couldn’t spit it out, not with the others watching, so he swallowed it and looked around, eager to see if there were more.

Soon, his legs felt lighter, almost floating. The constant aches that had been stabbing through his joints seemed to fade, drifting away like clouds on the wind. His breath came easier, his muscles loose and relaxed. A contented sigh escaped his lips. He might have swayed once or twice, but surely that was just the mountain air.

He heard THEM talking. “Poppy!” SHE said, and “Better loopy than lame,” HE said. The words meant little to him, but he understood the feeling. He felt free, unburdened by the weight of age that had pressed on his joints.

It was the first time in weeks he’d felt like himself again, not the sore old horse with stiff joints and aching bones. He could almost feel the winds of the open sky brushing past him. He wanted to fly, like the stories he’d heard of his namesake, to spread his wings and soar above the peaks, but they wouldn’t unfold.

Perhaps SHE had strapped them down to keep him from flying away, but he wouldn’t blame her. He would take HER with him. Lovely thoughts floated through his mind, and everything seemed soft, hazy, and pleasant.

He barely noticed whether the road was uphill or down, every step seemed lighter, as though he were gliding across it. His body felt so easy, the aches gone for the first time in years. He snorted contentedly and swayed sideways. It must have been a pothole, but it didn’t matter. In his mind, he was already flying.

Elly and Prim arrived and saw a monstrous beast towering above them. This wasn’t the way Nico had transformed before, this creature was born from the black depths of melancholy, forged from months of helpless despair watching Elly’s life passing, breath by breath.

The beast was unnaturally dense, its massive form seeming to pull everything towards it. Each footstep shook the earth beneath, and the air around it felt thick, making breathing laboured. Dark fluid streamed continuously from its hulking frame. It was like liquid shadow, pooling in expanding darkness around the creature’s feet.

The beast devoured illumination. Torchlight bent towards it, flames guttering as brightness was drawn into the voids that marked its form. Parts of the beast appeared eaten away from within, hollow spaces where despair had consumed substance, leaving gaps of absolute nothingness.

It gripped lifeless bodies in writhing tendrils of black matter, dashing the limp forms against the ground. But as the creature’s rage began to exhaust itself, something more terrible emerged. Its massive jaws opened wide in a silent roar. No sound came, only hollow silence, as the beast choked on its own anguish. Its red eyes glowed with malice, unable to voice the crushing weight of its despair.

The silent screams were somehow more horrifying than the roars that had first shattered the night. This was grief incarnate, despair given monstrous form, and darkness spread from it like foul black blood.

The creature hurled the limp bodies into the night and picked up two more. The traders would be coming, drawn by the terrible roars, and Elly’s heart hammered as she realised what would happen if they saw Nico like this. The secret they’d guarded so carefully would be exposed, and worse, these good people might try to fight the creature that Nico had become.

“We have to call him back,” Elly gasped, grabbing Prim’s trembling hand. The beast continued its rampage, oblivious to their presence, lost in its fury.

“Mindvision,” Elly said urgently. “Shout ‘Nico’ on three.”

Prim’s thoughts scattered, her mind reeling from the sight. Tendrils of shadow writhed around a massive form like living things, and its feet shook the ground. She didn’t believe this was their Nico any more. Terror had frozen her completely. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Some ancient darkness had consumed the man they loved, but she managed to nod, trusting Elly’s desperate plan.

Elly grabbed her hand. “One,” she counted, her voice barely steady.

“Two,” Prim whispered, forcing herself to focus despite the fear clawing at her throat.

“NICOOOOOOO!” they sent together, pouring every ounce of strength they possessed into the mental cry, their combined will reaching out through the darkness towards the beast.

The creature continued its destruction, showing no sign that it heard them. Two more bodies hurtled into the night, their trajectory suggesting they would travel many miles.

“Again,” Elly commanded, desperation making her voice sharp.

The beast raised the final corpse, dashed it on the ground and threw it far away.

“One, Two, NICOOOOO!”

Something flickered behind its burning eyes. The creature stopped. Its massive head cocked to one side with bewildered confusion, like a puzzled child. From its monstrous throat came an incongruous sound.

A confused grunt.

They knew that sound. It was Nico! For a heartbeat, the creature stood frozen, looking around, then the darkness collapsed inward with a sound like rushing wind, and the beast vanished, leaving only empty air.