That night, Gaius took his turn at the watch. While the men and Daxos slept with bellies full of sacrificial meat, he stood at the mouth of the cave watching sharp wisps of cloud pass before the slim moon.
The wind howled and Gaius wrapped himself more tightly in his wolf pelt cloak. The irony of what he was wearing was not lost on him. He felt the past weeks of marching wearing on him and knew they had to hold out. They would need all of their strength.
He closed his eyes and sighed, and when he opened them, he started at what he saw.
Mithras was striding up the path toward the cave. The god smiled as he ate what appeared to be a joint of beef.
“Mithras,” Gaius whispered and bowed his head.
“Yes, Heliodromus.” Mithras nodded. “I see you are resting.”
“The men are tired, Lord. I can’
