NOW AVAILABLE through WHSmith, Waterstones, Amazon worldwide and other stores.

444 pages

ISBN: 1849238901

Synopsis:

For twenty years civil war has torn the Empire apart; the Imperial line extinguished as the mad Emperor Quintus burned in his palace, betrayed by his greatest general. Against a background of war, decay, poverty and violence, men who once served in the proud Imperial army now fight as mercenaries, hiring themselves to the greediest lords.

On a hopeless battlefield that same general, now a mercenary captain tortured by the events of his past, stumbles across hope in the form of a young man begging for help. Kiva is forced to face more than his dark past as he struggles to put his life and the very Empire back together. The last scion of the Imperial line will change Kiva forever.

Excerpt from Interregnum:

“the man continued forward, his two weapons

“the man continued forward, his two weapons ready and swinging as he moved. Athas stood still, arms remaining folded. Quintillian tugged on the medic’s arm.

“This isn’t good” he said urgently. “Why isn’t the captain helping?”

Mercurias grinned back at him.

“He doesn’t need any help. Can’t you see that?”

The large man finally broke his slow advance and ran at Athas, the mace high and ready to drop and the sword jutting forwards at chest height. Athas continued to stand until the last moment, when he shifted his weight slightly to the left, stepped forward inside the reach of the blade and, unfolding his arms, jammed the fork he’d been holding into the man’s throat. The momentum carried the two forward a couple more paces, the fork tearing skin as the movement jarred them both. As they stopped, the big man stared down in shock and the weapons toppled from his hands. He reached both arms toward Athas, who merely waggled the fork, still buried in the man’s neck. His other finger waved in front of the enemy as though scolding a naughty child.

“Ah Ah. Play nice” he said sweetly.

The big man’s hands dropped slowly to his sides. Athas smiled at him.

“I’m now going to remove the fork” he said slowly and clearly. “You’re going to have to reach up very quickly and grasp your throat to prevent too much blood loss. After that you’re going to leave. We have a medic in the corner, but I doubt he’ll feel inclined to help you.”

Mercurias laughed as Athas continued. “I noticed an apothecary on the way into town. If you can get there without too much blood loss, you’ll be alright, but it’ll cost you a packet and you may never speak again, coz I think I touched your voice box. Be happy. I could have stuck your windpipe. Ready?”

The big man, a stunned and stupefied look on his face, nodded, causing him to wince as a fresh gout of blood pumped out around the fork.

“Go!”

Athas removed the utensil with a bold, sweeping stroke and a great quantity of dark blood splashed onto the floor. A fraction of a second later, Jorun was out of the tavern, one hand clutching his throat very tight. The sergeant bent down and gingerly, trying to avoid the bulk of the blood, picked the two weapons up from where they lay. He tossed the mace onto the bar.

“Sell it to pay for the cleaning” he said loudly.

Synopsis:

For twenty years civil war has torn the Empire apart; the Imperial line extinguished as the mad Emperor Quintus burned in his palace, betrayed by his greatest general. Against a background of war, decay, poverty and violence, men who once served in the proud Imperial army now fight as mercenaries, hiring themselves to the greediest lords.

On a hopeless battlefield that same general, now a mercenary captain tortured by the events of his past, stumbles across hope in the form of a young man begging for help. Kiva is forced to face more than his dark past as he struggles to put his life and the very Empire back together. The last scion of the Imperial line will change Kiva forever.

—— Excerpt from Interregnum ——

NOW AVAILABLE through WHSmith, Waterstones, Amazon worldwide and other stores.

440 pages

Buy at Waterstones (£8.99 – free delivery)

Buy at Amazon US: $13.99

ISBN: 1849238901

Synopsis:

It is 58 BC and the mighty Tenth Legion, camped in Northern Italy , prepare for the arrival of the most notorious general in Roman history: Julius Caesar.

Marcus Falerius Fronto, commander of the Tenth is a career soldier and long-time companion of Caesar’s. Despite his desire for the simplicity of the military life, he cannot help but be drawn into intrigue and politics as Caesar engineers a motive to invade the lands of Gaul .

Fronto is about to discover that politics can be as dangerous as battle, that old enemies can be trusted more than new friends, and that standing close to such a shining figure as Caesar, even the most ethical of men risk being burned.

—— Excerpt from Marius’ Mules ——

“Priscus raised his head to make out what was happening and saw one of the three remaining warriors, who had rescued shields from among the dead Romans, making straight for him in the press. It was always a dangerous situation; Centurions led from the front, and their high visibility made them an obvious target. The Centurionate bore a ridiculously high mortality rate, and Priscus was determined not to become just another statistic in the Legion’s paperwork. He eyed the wounded, blood-stained warrior who clutched a dagger in one hand, a large Roman shield in the other.

Reaching out, he gripped the shaft of a standard that one of his Signifers held.

“Give me that.”

The Signifer relinquished the tall, heavy and unwieldy standard reluctantly. It was an honour, though a dangerous one, to carry the standard.

Swinging the weighted pole above the heads of the men, he brought it down and angled it like a spear. Indeed, there was a spear head on the very tip, above the golden laurel wreath. Bracing himself, he pulled it back. The barbarian sneered and held the large shield over his torso, looking over the top in the manner of a Legionary, and picked up pace into a charge. The Legionaries held back. Though they could probably have tackled the barbarian, none of his men would dare dishonour the Primus Pilus like that. The barbarian pushed the shield out forward to ward off the spear head and laughed.

At the last minute, Priscus braced himself and dropped the point of the standard toward the ground. The spear point jammed deep into the lower leg of the barbarian, who stumbled and tripped, shredding his shin. As the point tore out of the side of his leg, his momentum carried him forward, pitching him into the air. He landed some yards from Priscus, and struggled to get to his feet. His right leg was useless but Priscus had to give him credit, as he managed to pull himself upright with his left, leaving the shield on the floor. He turned to face the Roman, snarling, and failed to see the swinging standard in the arms of the Primus Pilus in time. The heavy bronze and steel weight at the top of the standard smashed into the side of his head. Priscus hauled the thing upright and held it out for the Signifer to take. The man took one look at the blood-soaked spear tip and the bent and dented decoration.

“I hope you’re not going to try and take that out of my pay, sir.”