Previously: It seemed like a good day to join the Hittite army. I’d seen the advertisements at the trading-post – “Every day is a good day to join the Hittite army!” – and we were all great joiners at home. I come from a long line of persuadable men. My great-grandfathers had joined up with the Sumerians, the Akkadians, the Amorites, the Old Babylonians, and the Hurrians, depending on whomever was sweeping down out of the mountains with terrible swift swords, or flashing unexpectedly out from the sea on terrible white ships, or flaring out of the desert on lightning raids, at the time. People are always flashing unexpectedly into this part of the world, which is likely why those of us who live here year-round pride ourselves on our amenability. Some might call it easy conquering, but we prefer to think of ourselves as flexible hosts.
“Suppose I slaughter….[fragment missing]…still there could be no feast”? I felt just like that.
-perfection. i am undone
I was not expecting a cliffhanger and I am devastated, wow