“Nasir tells that you stood at Spartacus’ side from the birth of rebellion.
” The Bedouin chieftain said as he settled himself in the shade of the tent where Agron was sitting resting away from the sun’s scorching rays.
“It is a tale I would see committed to memory to be shared upon desert nights to come; those fallen to live forever in the memories of our sons and daughters until time itself ends.”
Agron took a deep breath; “It is not a tale of glory; but of loss.”
“Not loss; beloved of my wife’s brother. One of sacrifice willingly made for others.” The Bedouin whose name Agron now remembered was Fayid replied. “There is no greater glory.
Many tribes have gathered here to hear of Rome’s shame from the lips of one who had a hand in laying such upon the mighty Roman republic. Let us gather round fire this night to hear your words.”
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