He bends low over the body and stares into a lifeless face. He did this once before, many years ago. That face had been beautiful, the body strong and perfect. This body is different. Mutilated. The face is swollen and exhausted. It is the body of his son. The Father...
Claudius held down the man’s arm, although he did not struggle. I held the point to his wrist and raised the mallet, flung it down. The spike made a thud, driving through skin and muscle, a small clink as it reached the wooden beam. The Jew gasped, exhaled a long hiss...
The wet slap of the whip. One red splash after another, speckling the air, slowly painting the ground, slowly plowing his now shapeless back. Meat and bone, shreds of skin. Blood welling, soaking, trailing away into the dirt. His army, pleading, inches forward but he...
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