THE COMING STORM

'Iacta ālea est.' The die is cast. The storm would follow. Marcisus trooped with his legion over the Rubicon river, following their leader who had gone before them. Within days they would be in Rome. Pompey would be forced to flee. Rome would be torn apart. Marcisus saw it all unfolding. He had hoped his … Continue reading THE COMING STORM

CULLODEN

Through hard-falling rain a bird, black from beak to tail-tip, swoops and glides, buffeted by wind that swirls around the surrounding mountains. From the elevated height, black beady eyes see across the flat, windswept moor of the valley. In amongst the heather and wild grass the eyes see something unfamiliar. Wings angled to ride on … Continue reading CULLODEN