Chapter 11. Kiss the Eagle

VESTA

I never believed Rome would be so cruel to her own. Her wickedness indeed knew no bounds, especially to non-citizens, but her nationals were usually treated like kings. Perhaps not at such a moment. While I watched this beautifully bodied Roman lieutenant treated like a piece of excrement just three nights after the fall of Ice Fort, I was forced to believe that Rome was a different kind of evil. The purest form of it.

For one, this man had risked his life to get to the camp. There were whispers that he fought off a dozen demons and waded through a sea of dead bodies on his way. Yet, what did he get in return? Not an iota of respect, gratitude, or glory. He had been tied to a tree like a rabbit, surrounded by lowly ranked soldiers who were flogging and spitting on him as though he were some stench on Earth!

From where I sat on my high horse, I had tried severely to keep my eyes off the disturbing setting, but some invincible force kept dragging my attention b