Turning the shadowy corner, she thought to press on, in spite of the many Legionnaires filling the encampment; crowding round its many sulfur braziers with faces half-covered to protect themselves from the malodorous fumes while hoping to extract some measure of warmth from the ineffectual fires. Disguised beneath the veil of bent light she had cast round herself in order to traverse the dangerous avenues of the Uunglarda unseen, Ilys stepped onward lightly without a sound or any indication of her presence; yet as she came to the end of the street, where a black tent marked the Centurion’s quarters, a Legionnaire in crimson leather strode purposefully into the middle of the street, stopped directly in her path, and glared at her.
She froze; catching her breath and refusing to breathe so not to give herself away as her mind spun, seeking some means of escape. She remained invisible behind…
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