His steps had carried him down to the river, slow and shallow at this time of year. Cyprian stared across the water, at the ridge of hills he had crossed only days ago, filled with joy upon seeing his home again.
How different things had turned out, worse than he could have ever imagined them.
Barca was bound to another.
Cyprian lifted his head and looked up when he heard the chirping in the branches of the acacia tree above him. Like a feathery cloud they had taken to the air as he had stepped free of the bushes, and now sat there between the scarce foliage eyeing him distrustfully.
Not even the birds remembered him.
The longer he thought about it, there surer he got that he couldnāt stay. But where would he go? He had cut the brand out of his flesh and burned the rudis, so turning back to Rome and the sands of the arena wasnāt an option. He might travel west and south to find another clan, take the trials of the warrior if they would let him, and maybe find a place there, far away from the sight that broke his heart more and more with every beat.
A little chirp right next to him on the ground made him turn his head, and he looked at the tiny bird that was eyeing him with a tiny, lopsided smile.
āAnd you?ā He said softly. āAre you old enough to remember me?ā He extended his hand, very, very slowly. āI do not carry food for you, apologies. But Barca and I used to sing for you when we came absent crumbs or seeds.ā
It felt wondrous, and never since leaving his boyhood had Cyprian felt so close to tears, as the little bird hopped into his palm. He lifted his hand closer to his face.
āDawn pours blood over the horizon
To ashes the fires have burnt
This was our last night together, brother
The tides of war they have turned.ā
He lifted the bird a little higher, his deep voice so low it was almost a rumble.
āBrother, the war drums are calling
Brother, the morning is here
Death will have found us when dusk is falling
At your side, brother, I know no fear.ā
How many times he and Barca had sung this ancient song together, Cyprian could not recall. Taking turns with the lines they had made their oath anew every time. But the oath meant nothing anymore.
āBrother, the bond of blood between us
Brother, stay at my side
Brother, I face death with a smile
Brother, with you at my side.ā
He pushed the little bird up, and getting the hint, it took to the air and joined its friends in the acacia again.