The Tale of Patricius: Voyage, Part 2

The leader stalked off to his tent, and the new arrivals moved closer to where the others waited impassively for the future. Patricius waited for the older members of his group to speak.

From the strangers' dark eyes and hair, the boy wasn't sure where they were from. The language they muttered among themselves was different from what he had learned, though the musical tonal quality was similar. Still, when one of them spoke to Patricius' group, it was in a language they could understand.

The boy listened for a few minutes before he lost interest. He wondered where they were. The land faced west, and the sun would soon fall into the sea in that direction. He saw that one of the fishermen was staring out at the water.

"Do you know where we are, Ovis?" asked Patricius.

Ovis nodded. "Novantarum; it's a peninsula. The land of the Irish is right across there," he pointed west. "That is where our futures lie."

"Don't they sacrifice men there?" asked Patricius nervously. He thought back to the stories his father had told about the Celts.

Ovis smiled. "That's just a story told by envious Romans to scare their children. It's not true, but they are different."

"Why are the Romans envious?" asked Patricius.

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