nightdog_barks | (Reply)

From:

An excerpt from Annals V:

"Pragmatism," Gregorius pronounced, and James glanced up, startled, from where he'd been watching Longinus preparing the sacrifice.

Gregorius nodded at the scene below. The centurion was in full armor, the red horsehair crest nodding, the polished metal of his breastplate gleaming in the sun, catching the reflections from the harbor waves lapping at the sides of the ship. From his position above the deck, James could see the sheen of perspiration on Longinus' face. Then the centurion turned away, and James was left looking at the drape of his long woolen cloak. A seagull wheeled overhead, attracted by the possibility of food from the troop of men gathered on the ship's deck.

"Pragmatism," Gregorius repeated. "Longinus places no more stock in this foolish ritual than do I." He propped his staff against the deck railing and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the weathered wood. "He's only doing this to make the priest happy."

"The priest who's currently puking his guts out on shore," James observed.

"More foolishness," Gregorius grumbled. "Whoever heard of a sea-blessing priest with seasickness?"

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*hugs*