Eagle in Exile: The Clash of Eagles Trilogy Book II
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Perfect for fans of Bernard Cornwell, Steve Berry, Naomi Novik, and Harry Turtledove, Alan Smale’s gripping alternate history series imagines a world in which the Roman Empire has survived long enough to invade North America in 1218. Now the stunning story carries hero Gaius Marcellinus deeper into the culture of an extraordinary people—whose humanity, bravery, love, and ingenuity forever change his life and destiny.
In A.D. 1218, Praetor Gaius Marcellinus is ordered to conquer North America and turning it into a Roman province. But outside the walls of the great city of Cahokia, his legion is destroyed outright; Marcellinus is the only one spared. In the months and years that follow, Marcellinus comes to see North America as his home and the Cahokians as his kin. He vows to defend these proud people from any threat, Roman or native.
After successfully repelling an invasion by the fearsome Iroqua tribes, Marcellinus realizes that a weak and fractured North America won’t stand a chance against the returning Roman army. Worse, rival factions from within threaten to tear Cahokia apart just when it needs to be most united and strong. Marcellinus is determined to save the civilization that has come to mean more to him than the empire he once served. But to survive the swords of Roma, he first must avert another Iroqua attack and bring Cahokia together. Only with the hearts and souls of a nation at his back can Marcellinus hope to know triumph.
Praise for Alan Smale and Eagle in Exile
“In Alan Smale, speculative fiction has been dealt a winning hand. Part historian, part anthropologist, part scientist, Smale is a Renaissance man with a storyteller’s gift for letting tireless research inform the narrative without overwhelming it. Smale entertains, educates, and enraptures.”—Myke Cole, author of Javelin Rain
“[Eagle in Exile] has the pace and scope of a Michener or Uris epic. . . . Smale’s action scenes slash across page after page, intense and bloody. . . . Grab your dagger and sword, for the battle continues.”—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“Warfare, political conflict, family strife—these are all presented in an epic scope where any decision or wrong move can forever change society.”—Tech Times
“Thoroughly believable . . . Marcellinus is a complicated man, a hero we can all get behind.”—Historical Novels Review
From the Hardcover edition.
understand? About this at least, I wanted to be honest.” “I think so. I hope so.” Marcellinus raised her hand and placed it over his heart and then said, “ ‘About this at least’?” She looked at him somberly. “Until recently, Gaius, always I was honest with you.” He squeezed her hand. “You mean about this? About us?” “No,” she said, and her fingers slipped out of his. “When you flew to the Haudenosaunee, you made sure that you did not know our plan, when our war parties would march, which
lining the perimeter. There were two bonfires. Marcellinus could smell the mules but couldn’t see them. Or perhaps he just stank of mule himself. Marcellinus glanced down. He still wore his Cahokian tunic, which was now ragged, sweat-stained, and blood-soiled. “Who are you?” he said. “I?” The soldier took a drink from his water skin and examined him more closely. “Ah. Fully lucid this time, I see. The earlier times you raved terribly. I am Lucius Agrippa.” The man’s patrician attitude shone
over his shoulders, and fastened it at the breast with a silver brooch. “Come, Gaius Marcellinus; let’s get some shackles on you and take a look at your barbarian horde, eh?” — Trailing in the Imperator’s wake, flanked by two Praetorian Guards, Marcellinus climbed the low wooden watchtower on the southwest corner of the fortress and looked out over the clearing. The night was deceptively calm. The low winds had died away, and the air was crisp. The clouds had rolled back, and the light of an
left and right. The deafening roar continued unabated, but Marcellinus no longer heard it. He took another step. A rock grazed his forehead and pounded into the dirt in front of his feet. Marcellinus tried not to flinch. He stepped over the rock and kept going. A whirled club cracked into his right calf. The pain was sudden, immediate, and deadening. His leg gave way, and he dropped heavily onto his knee. Breathing was difficult. He closed his eyes for a moment and felt the thrum of another
Cahokian who were helping that day stepped up beside him, looking to him for guidance. Wapi and the other Cahokian craftsmen looked nervous, clutching their tools. “Mahkah, what do you see?” Mahkah’s eyes were keener than most, but he shook his head. “Nothing. That is why I fear.” He climbed ashore. Marcellinus’s own sword was in the bow of the Concordia. He also kept a full breastplate, helmet, and greaves there in case of attack, but there was no time to don them now. He ran to snatch the