Memory Gene

John Glass

Description

When a piece of pottery is found near Hadrian’s Wall by archeologist Frank Bowman, his life is turned upside down, and it leads him on an adventure to discover the rest of the pieces, and whom it belongs to, and why it affects him the way it does.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Centurión
• Archaeology
• Adventure
• Centurion
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse UK
• Date de parution: 31 mai 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798823082198
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

MEMORY GENE
THE FINAL PIECE
JOHN GLASS


AuthorHouse™ UK
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403 USA
www.authorhouse.co.uk
Phone: UK TFN: 0800 0148641 (Toll Free inside the UK) UK Local: (02) 0369 56322 ([phone] from outside the UK)
 
 
 
 
 
© 2023 John Glass. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 04/27/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-8220-4 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-8219-8 (e)
 
 
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
1The Storm in Time. AD 96
2Triumphant again
3Oxford 1998
4The new storm
5Dreams of another time
6Meeting old friends
7Clear skies
8All routine
9A Strange find
10A logical explanation
11Marcus Dius
12Mixed Timelines
13The mind time shift
14Professor Hendry
15Calleva
16The warning
17Too close for comfort
18I am Marcus
19Mysterious friend
20Two little Urchins
21Powers afar
22Haifa
23A Fugitive feeling
24Loss of an old friend
25DNA
26The Double Cross
27Complications
28Change of plan
29Marcus by my side
30A pleasant surprise
31Revelation
32A trap set
33Te-Aviv
34A piece of the puzzle
35Pointing the Way
36The Meeting
37Danger on wheels
38Unexpected hero
39Vatican surprise
40What I said
41A stroke of luck
42Pompeii danger
43Narrow escape
44A twist in the tale
45Reliving old memories
46Treachery revealed
47In a tight spot
48Nearing the end
49Vanished into thin air
50The past catching up
51Surprise meeting
52Tel-Aviv 2002
53The Growing Storm
54The pool of truth
55Running out of time
56Unfinished business
1
The Storm in Time. AD 96
M arcus, commander of a Centuria detachment of the Valeria Victrix Legion from Eburacum, pulled his bearskin cover over his head for protection against the heavy rain. Having reached the highest point of their journey, they had been caught out in the open by a violent storm. Rain, driven by the winds over the hills, engulfed the streams and spewed rivers of water down the hillside. In these conditions, Marcus, surveying the terrain, considered it was impossible to continue, he ordered his men to take refuge beneath an over hanging rock face and tethered his horse close bye.
Sheltered from the worst of the elements, his Centuria Optio asked, ‘should I post sentries?’
Marcus, looking around at his men grouping together ordered, ‘No! There’s no need! the Maneatea won’t attack in this foul weather.’
The eighty strong legionnaires in these damp uncomfortable conditions, huddling together, and covered themselves with their animal skin bedrolls to keep out the elements, then linking their shields around them they form battle style turtle shell enclosures. Marcus and his officers sitting a few paces away likewise formed an enclosure in the same manner. This provided not only a defence against the foul weather; it also offered some protection in the event of a surprise attack.
Waiting out the storm, they sat bracing themselves against the strong wind that buffeted their shields, but still the rain infiltrated through every crevice. To forget their discomfort, his men discussed the warm billets they were marching to at Vindolanda, and their plans to sample hot baths and wine.
Having fought side by side with his men these last two years, Marcus was not unduly worried by the men’s uncomfortable surroundings, as they had suffered severe weather before, and were a very resilient bunch. He knew their discontent would keep them angry, and ready when called to fight.
Listening to the rhythmic drumming of the rain on the shield. Marcus, as in many times before in situations like this, uneasily kept looking out from under his skin covers. Hearing his men joking with each other, trying to keep their spirits up, his mouth turned up in a smile, as in the past they had shared many moments like these. He mused, bonding them as brothers.
Now nearing his retirement from the legions, it was in times like these that he found his thoughts returning to his younger days and his hometown in Italia. He mused, how in his youth the sun shone every day when he and his younger brothers played among the olive groves, which stretched up the slope of the mountain. At that moment, those days seemed a long, long time ago.
His eyes drawn to the rain again as it formed small streams cutting new paths down the hillside, and shivered as he felt the draught from the wind seep into his old bones. To ease his discomfort, he once more turned his thoughts to the wonderful weather in his homeland, and reasoned. ‘Not like in this forgotten part of the Empire, where it was always windy, wet, and has natives always spoiling for a fight.’
As his men continued their banter he closed his eyes and remembered as though it was yesterday, leaving on his first campaign and the advice given him by his father, Servous Priscus, who also had served in this wild country of Britannia after duties in the far-off lands of Cyrenaica in Africana, Judea, and other dangerous places throughout the Empire.
On release from the legion, his father had returned home and settled down to work in the family business of winemaking. That year his father took Luciana for his wife and the following year he came into this world, and like the rest of the family was fiercely proud of his lineage. The family, although considered one of the elites in the area, but not high enough up the social ladder to serve on the Rome senate, but had served loyally as Decurions on their local town Council.
Marcus, grabbing his skin cover, pulled it tighter around his shoulders as the swirling wind appeared to strengthen. Trying to shut out the weather from his thoughts, his mind returned to when his father taught him the skills of combat and impressed on him, to serve Rome was their glorious destiny. At other times as he and his brothers rested in the shade of the groves, they had listened in awe to the many stories their father told them, of the people and places he had seen during his time serving the emperor.
His father’s deeds had filled his ambitions to travel the Empire, fight battles, and win glory. In those days he dreamed that this would be his legacy.
During his service to date, he had achieved all he had dreamed of, having served, and fought many battles defending the Empire. In Macedonia, Dacia, Belgica, and now here in Britannia, he had come through many battles unscathed and counted his life as being charmed due to a cup his father presented to him the day he left home.
Where the cup came from his father never said, only that he had won it gambling when he was assigned as a guard to a prison in Judea. When handing over the cup, his father had told him, that from the moment he held the cup in his hands; the feeling of a shield had engulfed him and from that day, he had survived many battles without injury.
Marcus, remembering his father’s words, let his mind stray back to one campaign in particular. In a forest in Belgica, near the border with Germania, it was there he felt for the first time, the full power of the cup. In one skirmish too many, an arrow fired from an unknown enemy’s bow that was destined to end his career, but instead struck the pouch that he kept the cup in, and in doing so broke it into pieces, unknown to him in that moment a small piece was lost. Often he thought of that day, and was glad the cup had protected him by deflecting the arrow.
In the quiet of his mind, he recalled with pride, that over five days, five Legions, numbering twenty-five thousand legionaries took part in the campaign and although outnumbered by an estimated seventy thousand strong Germanium army, the valiant Legions fought tactically over many small skirmishes, until the ultimate battle took place on a plain bordered by dense forests near the river Rhine. The offensive lasted from dawn till dusk and after one last effort, the legions overcame the Germanium hordes, pushing them back until many Huns fell into the river.
Over the following months, other small skirmishes had taken place until the Germanium leader waved the flag of surrender. In subsequent battles against disgruntled rebels that followed to secure the area, another piece of the cup fell from the pouch and was lost, but still the remaining pieces still kept him safe.
Thinking of when he first set foot here in Britannia, only three pieces were still in his possession. At the time he had felt concerned, as with the loss of each piece, the protection of the cup seemed to diminish.
To this day, he still held dear in his heart the moment, his father presented the cup to him in the small family Temple of Jupiter, which was situated on the small mound in their garden, overlooking the town. His mood mellowed when remembering how beautiful it had all looked, set against the distant blue seas. As his father handed over the cup to him, he had asked the gods to offer him the same protection, as he hi