Flavia swore as the heavy earthenware pitcher slipped from her hands and crashed onto the uneven flagstones. As she knelt in the puddle of tepid water and started gathering in the pieces, she heard the rapidly approaching footfall of an armed legionary.
‘Leave that now, there’s no time. We ride for York immediately.’
‘But mea domina...’
‘The Wall is breached. Hurry, puella, or she'll start without you!’
Flavia picked up her sodden skirts and ran.
I held my breath as the last piece of the Corbridge ewer slid smoothly into place and wondered at the exquisitely crafted motif which encircled the body of this ancient vessel. A procession? A cavalcade? Curious, if not for the men-at-arms, I would have thought it a pageant. And there in a covered wagon a noble woman looking back at a young girl standing on the steps of a villa holding her hem in her hands.
A piece of slightly supernatural ‘drabble’ for a Sunday morning! :)
Forgive me, my love
I could only stand-horror struck
I watched, yet I didn’t, the crocodiles of the raging Nile maul your ****** corpse
My love, my love forgive me
That wretched day; that cursed hour, the very hour of our return
To see you breathe your last was akin to feeling a knife in my back
They had to hold me down
The hated guards who couldn’t save you
Forgive me, please, forgive me
I can do nothing more than carve your face into cold marble now
Antinous forgive me, forgive me please
I couldn’t save you; no one could
Antinous, forgive me
— The End —