A Centurion in the Land of the Fae

"There are places we should not venture; there are peoples we should not confront with our military might...and most of all, there are beings we dare not offend if we, and our Empire, are to survive. To all who read this, I implore you--heed my warning."

And so begins my novel, Snakestone and Sword, a twisty tale of a Roman centurion in the land of the Fae, or, as legionaries call it, the Shadow Kingdom, from where no Roman who enters ever returns.

Arrius Marcus Niger is no common centurion--and as far as he's concerned, his career plans do not involve becoming a slave to some barbarian chief, or, marginally worse, a sacrifice to some barbarian's even more barbaric god. No, he has his sights on becoming not just Primus-Pilus, but the youngest Primus-Pilus ever. And he's soooo close, until the fates step in and, as they always tend to do, make an absolute hash of things.

Snakestone and Sword was not my first novel, nor was the title my choice (I always felt Snakestone and Sword sounded more like the title for an historical romance bodice ripper), it was the one put forth by my publisher and one I reluctantly agreed to, after I rejected those I disliked more, fearing if I didn't agree, they'd go with one of the titles I hated. The cover design incorporates a Roman gladius hispaniensis, the short sword employed by legionaries to such great effect, and an ammonite--a snakestone--its scientific genus name derived from the coiled, ram's horn headdress of the Egyptian god, Ammon. I'd originally planned it as a three-book series, with this, the first, originally titled Phalarae, the second tentatively titled Latrones, and the last, Lemures. Regrettably, the third novel was never published due to matters beyond my control. One day I hope it too may see the light of day but to do so will require I find a publisher willing to re-publish the two previously published novels, as the publisher who published Snakestone and Sword and Hide and Sidhe, Snakestone's retitled sequel, is no longer publishing new material. It continues to print on-demand paperbacks of my novels, as well as offer them as ebooks, but beyond that, no. Thankfully the two novels, Snakestone and Sword and Hide and Sidhe, are a stand-alone series, with a satisfying ending overall (as all those who've read it assure me).

In case you were wondering, these are (recreated) Roman Phalarae

from a centurion's chest harness.

I admit it: I truly loved my main character, Arri; he was a total joy to write. He says things, does things I could never say or do, which is often true of characters I write, true of what other writers write, but Arri was/is unique for me. Firstly, his tale is told from the first person POV. I'd never tried that before and I knew the risks as many publishers refuse anything written in the first person outright. I felt I couldn't write him any other way and have him be a sympathetic protagonist--as a reader, you needed to know what he's thinking, not what he's projecting to an unseen third-person narrator. He's arrogant, extremely ambitious, and vain (the antithesis of me), with a wicked sense of humor and a unique take on life. He tends to whine about his lot while believing he suffers in silence. And most critical to the story: he has an eidetic memory--he remembers everything he experiences and everyone he meets in exquisite detail.

I loved spending time in his world--the rough edges of the Roman empire at the time of the Boudican revolt (~60CE), when the empire is still expanding, still largely unstoppable, or at least it appears that way to the average Roman citizen. It seems true as well to the peoples who keep being roughly pushed aside, whose own territories are being swallowed up at an alarming rate by an irresistible combination of an aspirational culture and all its refined trappings backed by supreme military might--the proverbial carrot and stick that has held Rome in good stead for centuries (and will continue to do so, more or less, for a few centuries more). In truth, it's a tipping point for Rome. The empire has reached a point where the push-back is getting more intense, the pay-back for such audacity on the part of uppity barbarians far more costly. Rome is not invincible. Boudica and her rabble prove this (even if her actions are fleeting), as had Arminius and the infamous Varian Disaster 50 years before--within living memory for some, and certainly an often retold tale by many on both sides of the frontier, a cautionary one for Romans, a useful tool of propaganda for her enemies. These two unlikely foes proved Rome could bleed.

Varusschlacht (Arminius and the Varus disaster at Teutoburger Wald), by Otto Albert Koch, 1909, courtesy of Lippisches Landesmuseum Detmold

I wasn't interested in writing a "sword and sandal epic", meaning historical fiction. The novel and its sequel were, from their inception, science fiction with a large dose of fantasy mixed in. And while there are plenty of science fiction novels set during the Roman Empire, I wanted my tale to be on a smaller, personal scale, seen through the eyes of one remarkable individual with a checkered past and a near-crippling case of post-traumatic stress syndrome. It's more nuanced in its perspectives of what's good and what's bad, who's the hero, and who's the villain, and at its core, it has what I believe to be a unique twist having to do with Arri's eidetic memory. I also wondered how Rome--and specifically one of its citizens, a loyal if deeply cynical and war-weary soldier--would react to being confronted by a force so far superior to anything Rome could muster it was beyond understanding, much less defeating by known means.

The novel is written from the perspective of a self-made man with a very dim view towards his fellow Romans--in particular Roman officers, Roman politicians, including the emperor, and Roman gods--barbarians, of course, the bane of all good Romans, and just about everything and anyone else he might encounter during an average day and whose singular intention is, as far as Arri is concerned, to make his life hell. He's not without reason for holding this jaundiced view of life. Everything he can claim as his own he's earned in the hardest, most personally painful ways possible.

Despite his rather pessimistic attitude, he is loyal to the empire and thanks to his unbridled ambitions, expertly climbs the Roman army career ladder, picking and choosing his allies, his enemies and his officers with care, and always with his ultimate goal of Primus-Pilus in his sights. Along the way, he forms life-long friendships with three fellow legionaries, Felix, Rufinius, and Aetius, friendships that will prove to be both his undoing and his salvation. The rest is, as they say, is history.

Throughout the novel, the historical settings and contemporary beliefs are meticulously researched and used to create a rich, three-dimensional background along with supplying fodder for Arri's wry sense of humor. The political machinations are accurate and major figures of the time are incorporated (Arri tends to name-drop). As a writer I never bend the known facts to fit my novels, I make my storylines fit the known facts. I find it far more challenging--and fun--to approach it that way. And Arri remains Arri throughout, arrogant, ambitious, and vain. Not your typical hero. Then again, this isn't your typical heroic journey in the mold of Joseph Campbell and it was never meant to be. I hope you enjoy it.