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Chapter XV

CHAPTER XV

Taloric beat his chest with his fist and then extended both arms over his head, continuing the loud yell he’d authored long before. After a half minute, though, he dropped his arms pulled his sword from the ground where he’d shoved it to rest before. He yelled the shout not at the Romans but at the rest of his tribe, asking them if they were ready. They all answered in the affirmative, punctuated by rowdy sounds from deep in their guts. His eyes, untamed and wide, turned to Weaver. His words were near to buried in the frenzy of the Pict multitudes, all shouting.

“We shall take it to them!”

Weaver’s eyes remained steadily on the Roman divisions as they slowly advanced out into the grassy valley. Her arms, down in front of her by the remains of the white horse, stayed steady, not quivering as those of her apprentice did as Ragala tried to hold them still at her sides. Weaver gave Ragala a slow glance, then returned her gaze up to the Roman lines, all starting to move like a
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