Strangers in a Strange Land

"Sentinel! Sentinel are you alright?"

Sarah slowly opened her eyes as the frantic co-pilot was removing her safety harness. At first her vision was blurry and she couldn't remember where she was. "Where….where am I?"

The co-pilot removed the last belt and slowly helped her up. "Our Vertibird crashed, ma'am. I'm not sure where exactly we are."

Soon the world around her became clearer, and she remembered. The missiles. The aircraft being hit and spinning out of control. Marcus was sitting next to her, holding her hand….

Marcus! She frantically looked to her right, and there he was still strapped to his seat next to her's. He was unconscious, and blood was trickling down the side of his head. She practically knocked the co-pilot over as she ran over to him and began checking his vitals. "Marcus! Marcus talk to me!" She looked down at his PIPBOY. "Moira are you there?"

The avatar appeared on the screen. "Where else would I be?"

Sarah ignored her quip. "How is he?"

"Not good. According to his vitals he has a concussion and two broken ribs. We need to get him stimpaks or get him near a radiation source fast."

Sarah took a moment to look around the battered Vertibird. The aircraft had come down hard on its belly and slid several yards in the dirt before finally stopping. It was leaning to the right, and the right wing had been torn off. Thankfully the aircraft hadn't caught fire, thanks to the quick work of the co-pilot. Sarah's eyes fell on Lenny. The ghoul's seat had broken free from the impact, and it appeared he was slammed into the overhead causing his skull to fracture and his neck to break. Though she'd only known Lenny for a short time, her heart sank at the sight of his lifeless, broken body. Her attention was now focused on Dogmeat, who thankfully was still in his seat and appeared to be unharmed, minus a few cuts on his face. Sarah turned to the Lancer. "Where's the pilot?"

The co-pilot had to swallow the lump in his throat. "He didn't make it, ma'am."

Sarah cursed. "We need to find the first aid kit." She made her way through the wreckage, until at last she found a mounted cabinet marked "First Aid". Her heart stopped when she saw that that the door was crushed in, and it took all of her strength to pry it open. She reached inside and removed a battered pouch marked stimpaks – and immediately realized it was soaked. "Oh no!" She tore it opened, and her worst fears were realized. Every stimpak had been shattered, it's life saving contents now just a puddle of ooze. Sarah screamed as she threw the pouch on the ground. After taking a few deep breaths, she removed what she could from the first aid kit and made her way back over to Marcus. "We need to find a radiation source nearby." She began to undo Marcus' restraints. "Moira, scan the area."

"I have been….and I'm not detecting any radiation anywhere."

Sarah stopped moving and her jaw dropped open. "That's impossible. There has to be some radiation somewhere!"

"I'm sorry Sarah, but I'm not even picking up background radiation in the air. It's completely clean."

Sarah and the co-pilot, who had just finished undoing Dogmeat's restraints, stared at each other dumbfounded. Sarah made her way over to the port side cabin door and managed to force it open….and what she saw took her breath away. Before her stood beautiful rock formations, some of them as tall as the ruins of downtown D.C. Although most of the ground was sand, her eyes beheld something she had never seen. Trees. Not the burned out, dead ones in the Capital, but lush, green trees and patches of grass. The sun was shining brilliantly in the sky, and Sarah's wounds began to heal as she absorbed the ultraviolet rays.

She barely noticed the co-pilot standing next to her, and he too, was almost at a loss for words. "By the Creator! It's beautiful."

As much as she may have wanted to enjoy the view, Sarah turned and returned to the task at hand. "Here, help me get him out of this seat so we can treat his wounds." They carefully laid him down on the deck, while Sarah tried to steady his head. She didn't want him to suffer any more injuries.

"Sarah, I'm picking up contacts coming from multiple directions." Moira said. "About ten in total."

Sarah's hand instinctively went to her side arm. "Are they friendly or hostile?"

A gun shot rang out, followed by the sound of a bullet ricocheting off the side of the aircraft.

"I'm gonna say hostile." The avatar deadpanned.

Sarah drew her plasma pistol and ducked down, just as more gun shots rang out. The co-pilot drew his 10mm side arm, crouched down, and spotted movement from a ledge above them. "I've got two contacts at ten o'clock high!" He pointed his pistol out the side door and opened fire.

Sarah looked through the window on the opposite side of the cabin, and spotted three attackers making their way towards the aircraft. "Three on the right!" she shouted as she opened fire, causing them to scatter.

The co-pilot continued to trade fire with the two attackers firing down from the ledge, until he finally scored at hit on one of them. The Lancer ducked back inside and reloaded his pistol. "One target down! Reloading!"

Sarah continued to fire out the window at anything that moved. One attacker tried to make a run towards the aircraft, but all he got for his troubles was a plasma round to the chest. "Target down!" Sarah yelled.

The Lancer pilot ducked down once more, and was loading his last magazine when a bullet tore into his throat. Sarah felt wetness on her face as the pilot's blood splattered in all directions, and she watched as his body crumpled to the deck. More rounds starting coming inside the cabin, only these were coming from the front of the aircraft. Sarah peered around the seats, and spotted two more attackers standing in front of the Vertibird, firing into the cockpit windows. It was only for a moment, but Sarah got her first good look at these attackers. They were armed with repeating rifles, and were dressed in what she could only describe as ancient native American garb. She could hear them yelling in a strange language, and their skin was as white marble. Sarah took aim with her pistol and fired several times, turning one of her attackers to goo, and causing the other to take cover.

The gunfire had stopped, and Sarah took advantage of it to check on Marcus. He had not been hit, but she knew he didn't have long. After reloading her plasma pistol, Sarah removed Marcus' desert eagle from his holster. "Moira, how many are still out there?"

"Seven, and they appear to be regrouping for another attack."

Sarah cursed as she locked and loaded the desert eagle, and she placed the bulky weapon in her right hand, and the plasma pistol in her left. "When they come, you start yelling out where they are, you got it?"

"Got it."

Sarah took a moment to regain control of her breathing – and wished she was wearing her power armor, or even her combat armor instead of fatigues. She stared down at Marcus, then to Dogmeat, who was hovering over his master. "You keep him safe, okay boy?"

The dog responded with a whimper – as if he knew how much trouble they were in.

Gunfire rang out from two directions, and Sarah gritted her teeth. "Where are they, Moira?"

"You've got two on your right, and two in front."

Sarah fired the desert eagle out the right side window, while simultaneously firing the plasma pistol out the front cockpit windows. She kept this up despite several bullets whizzing dangerously close to her, and she even managed to score a kill with her plasma pistol.

"Sarah, three more charging at us from the left!"

Sarah swung both guns towards the open cabin door, and she spotted the three attackers rushing forward in almost suicidal fashion. She unleashed a salvo of fire from both guns, killing two of them, but the third opened up with his repeating rifle, and Sarah screamed as a .44 caliber round struck her left arm. Fighting through the pain, she managed to fire two more rounds from the desert eagle, putting the third attacker down.

"On your right!"

Sarah turned and saw the remaining three attackers moving towards the front of the aircraft. She swung the desert eagle and opened fire, desperate to push them back. Another .44mm round found its way underneath her right arm pit, and she was knocked down on her back. It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her, and everything seemed to be spinning. Her breathing was becoming more labored, and she knew she was dying. Despite her current state, she realized she had fallen onto Marcus, and Dogmeat began nudging her with his nose and whimpering. She could hear muffled voices coming closer, and through her blurring vision she could see the first attacker come into view. She was barely able to lift the desert eagle, and as her hand was shaking she pulled the trigger.

Click.

The empty pistol fell from her hands, and at that point Sarah Lyons had excepted her fate. The other two attackers came into view, and as the trio came closer, Dogmeat leaped over Sarah and tackled the first man, tearing into this throat. Sarah watched helplessly as the remaining two raised their weapons towards the canine; there was no way he would survive the salvo.

One of the men suddenly jerked backwards as an arrow became lodged in his throat. The remaining attacker yelled something Sarah couldn't understand, and trained his weapon towards the direction that the attack had come from. A second later a gunshot rang out, and the attacker's head seemed to explode.

Sarah's eye sight was getting worse, but she struggled to inch her way towards the cabin door. The sun. She had to get into the sun, but every movement sent pain shooting through her body. Just as darkness was about to claim her, she felt two powerful hands reach under her arms, and dragged her out of the aircraft. The hands gently laid her on her back, and she could tell she was on the ground. In seconds of being in the direct sunlight, she could feel her body absorbing the ultraviolet rays, and her wounds began to heal. About a minute later, her vision had returned to normal, and she finally got a good look at her rescuer.

The man was young, and though he wore native American clothing similar to her attackers, his skin was not white but very tan. His face was adorned with tattoos, and he was wearing what looked like an old ball cap with feathers on it. Two more tribals, one with a bow and another holding a rifle, came into view, and all three were staring at her with their jaws hung open. They watched as her wounds healed in seconds, and the woman who a moment before looked to be at death's threshold, sat up and got on her feet. The two tribals standing off to the side uttered something Sarah could not understand, and slowly began to back away in fear. The tribal in the ball cap turned and began to speak to them in their own language, and soon the conversation became heated, and ended when the two tribals took off running. Sarah's rescuer stayed behind, and when he spoke, it was in a language she could understand. "I'm sorry about that. They think you are some kind of evil spirit because your wounds healed so quickly. I am Follows-Chalk. We saw you fighting the White Legs by yourself, and decided to help."

Sarah looked down at the bodies of the white tribals. "So that's what you call them? White Legs?"

Follows-Chalk nodded. "Yes. They are enemies of my people, the Dead Horses. I will take you to our camp. Joshua will want to meet you."

"I'm not leaving without Marcus." Sarah said, and she turned a headed back inside the Vertibird with Follows-Chalk right behind her. Sarah knelled down and placed her hands underneath his shoulders. "Here….help me get him outside."

Follows-Chalk managed to grab his feet, and they carefully picked Marcus up and carried him outside of the wreckage and placed him down on the ground. He was still not responding, and Sarah's mind raced as she tried to figure out what to do. "Do you have a doctor at your camp?"

"Over at the Sorrow's camp there is a shaman named White Bird. He good at healing and making medicine."

Sarah, clearly losing her patients, smashed her fist down into the dirt. "I don't need a goddamn witch doctor! I need a real doctor!"

The young man hung his head, clearly upset at Sarah's distain and the Sentinel quickly regretted her words. "I'm….I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. You saved my life, and I know you're just trying to help us."

Follows-Chalk looked up, and he managed a slight grin on his face. "It's okay, I know you are worried about your friend."

"Sarah, I may have an idea." Moira's avatar pipped up, and Follows-Chalk jumped back in surprise. "Woah! Is that….some kind of spirit?"

Moira flashed her trade mark grin, and appeared to be deep in thought. "Well actually I'm an artificial intelligence based on the downloaded personality of a dead person, soooooo I guess technically I'm a ghost….."

"Moira!" Sarah yelled through gritted teeth. "Your idea to help Marcus!"

"Oh right! Both of your power armor suits are fitted with biogel dispensers, so if you can access its reserve…."

"I could use the biogel on Marcus!" Sarah jumped back to her feet. "Moira you're a…."

"Genius?" She cut in with a smile. "I know."

Sarah looked over at Follows-Chalk, who clearly was having a hard time understanding what he had just seen. "Could you please dress his wounds while I get my armor out of the cargo hold?"

The young tribal took the medical supplies. "I will, but we should hurry. There's a good chance the White Legs will send another war party to look for this group."

Sarah managed to get their gear out of the cargo hold and immediately got into her power armor. The Sentinel relished the sensation of the steel against her skin, because she always felt naked when she was in the field without it. With Moira's guidance she managed to get into the biogel reservoir of Marcus' suit, and quickly applied the lifesaving gel to his wounds. Unfortunately, even in her power armor and with Follows-Chalk's help, Sarah would not be able to carry Marcus and all of their gear. Luckily, the young tribal told her of several large hollow tree trunks nearby that the Dead Horses would use for supply stashes, so they were able to hide most of the gear and come back for it later. After stashing the rest of the sets of armor, Sarah carefully hoisted Marcus over her shoulder, while Follows-Chalk carried a duffel bag filled with their weapons and ammo. It took the better part of the afternoon for them to make their way through the wilderness to the Dead Horses' camp, and Sarah was astounded at the beauty of this place. Having grown up in the ruins of D.C., she had only seen a valley like this in old holotapes and pictures. Follows-Chalk lead her into a small stream which cut through the canyons. "Ah, the Eastern Virgin. What's the phrase? House sweet house?"

Sarah couldn't help but chuckle at his mangling of the old saying. However, her mouth dropped open when the young tribal waded through the water with his bare feet. He must've sensed she wasn't following him because he soon stopped and turned around. "Dead Horses camp is this way. What is wrong?"

Sarah was still staring at him dumbfounded. "Is the water….clean?"

Now it was Follows-Chalk's turn to look confused. "Clean? Oh….you mean bad water from civilized lands. No, Zion's water clean. Good for drinking and growing crops." To prove his point, the young scout cupped his hand into the stream and took a long sip of the life giving water.

Moira's avatar suddenly appeared on Marcus' PIPBOY. "If you can get me a sample, I can verify if it's pure, Sarah."

Sarah managed to dip the PIPBOY into the water, and within seconds Moira had the results. "100% pure spring water!" The avatar let out a sigh. "I wish I could taste it."

Dogmeat barked happily, and began to lap up the crystal clear water. Sarah was amazed. Never in her life had she come across a natural source of clean water, and as much as she wanted to dunk her head in it and drink until she burst, she had to get Marcus to the camp. They continued on, and Sarah noticed large paintings on the sides of the cliffs.

"These paintings show the Dead Horses' victories against other tribes." Follows-Chalk explained. "Lots more of them since Joshua came to us."

Sarah didn't miss the last part of his statement. "So this Joshua, he's not from your tribe?"

Follows-Chalk shook his head. "No. He come from place far away. He's a great warrior who helps us to fight the White Legs. He can tell you more when you meet him."

Soon the Dead Horses camp came into view, and it was much like what Sarah was expecting. Several small tents lined the river bank, along with several gardens where the tribals were growing foods that Sarah had never seen before. As they approached, several of the Dead Horses rushed to meet them, only they were armed with spears, bows and rifles – and didn't look at all happy to see them. Sarah's hand instinctively went to her plasma pistol, and Dogmeat began to snarl. Follows-Chalk turned and raised his hand to her in a calming gesture. "Hold on. Wait here, I will talk to them." The scout continued for a few more paces, before coming face to face with the group of tribals. They began to speak to each other in their own language, and while Sarah could not understand the words, she could tell the armed welcoming committee was both fearful and agitated. Finally, after coming to some kind of agreement, one of the armed tribals waved for someone at the camp to approach, and an unarmed man and two females waded into the water with a hand-made stretcher. Follows-Chalked turned and walked back towards Sarah. "This is our shaman, they will take your friend to his cave to rest, but you must first meet Joshua at Angel Cave."

Sarah's hand tightened on her holstered pistol, and her eyes scanned the armed group in front of her. She did not like the idea of leaving Marcus alone with these primitives whom she had just met, but Follows-Chalk had helped them even though he didn't have to. "I will, but only if you promise to stay with him while I am gone."

Follows-Chalk nodded. "I promise. Joshua's cave is over there."

The shaman and the two females gently placed Marcus on the stretcher, and Sarah watched as they and Follows-Chalk carried him to the camp. Sarah looked down at Dogmeat. "You go with them boy, keep an eye on Marcus."

The canine responded with a bark and rushed to catch up to his master. Sarah's armed 'escort' surrounded her, and lead her to the entrance of Angel Cave. "You go in!" The leader commanded as he pointed inside.

Sarah shot the man a death stare, and he appeared to back away. They were afraid of her, that much was clear. Slowly she entered the cave, and it wasn't long before she spotted the light from a small campfire inside the cave's central chamber. A young tribal woman quickly approached the Sentinel. "Hoi! Owslandr zookuh Joshua Graham?"

The only part of the sentence Sarah really understood was Joshua Graham, so she decided to try her luck. "I am….looking for Joshua. Yes I am. Can you tell me where he is?"

The tribal seemed pleasantly surprised. "You know our tongue. Smart, owslandr."

Sarah began to surmise that owslandr meant outlander. The young woman continued in a stern tone. "Joshua in high place of cave. You show respect, utman! Joshua is greatest warrior. You show him no respect, he show you thunder and fire!"

Sarah, who was never keen on being threatened, inched closer to the tribal. They were standing so close that the young woman got her first glimpse of the Sentinel's eyes, and her mouth dropped open. Sarah took the opportunity to issue her own proclamation. "And if he disrespects me….or my friends, I will show him lightning and ash!"

Sarah tapped her holstered plasma pistol, and the young woman visibly gulped and let her pass. The Sentinel proceeded further into the cave, and went up to several levels, until finally she reached a large chamber. On a ledge a man was sitting at a small table, and though there was a small oil lamp nearby, Sarah could not see his face and she began to walk further inside.

"That's far enough." A low, husky voice bellowed.

Sarah stopped where she was, and her eyes strained to see the man before her. "I'm looking for Joshua Graham."

There was a brief pause, and all that could be heard was the stillness of the cave. "I am the man you seek. We should have given you a better welcome on your first visit to Zion, but from what I hear, the White Legs beat us to it. When we saw your aircraft go down, I sent my scouts to find your crash site. I understand that you and your companion were the only survivors. You have my sympathy."

"Thank you." Sarah responded. "Do you have any idea what shot us down?"

The man seemed to be tinkering with something on the table in front of him. "Before the arrogance of men destroyed the world, several automated defense batteries were erected all over this region. My guess is one of them was still active, and assumed you were hostile."

Sarah cautiously took a step forward, trying to get a look at the mysterious man. "Where are we exactly? Is this the Mojave?"

"No. This is the Zion valley, in what used to be known as Utah. Given the markings on your aircraft and the power armor you're wearing, I surmise you are a member of the Brotherhood of Steel. You need not worry. The NCR has no jurisdiction out here, and I have no ties to them."

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. "I am Sarah Lyons, Sentinel of the Eastern Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, and citizen of the Capital Union."

The man seemed to stop what he was doing for a moment and looked up at her. "Then I see the rumors are true. A new nation has been established in what was once Washington D.C. You are a long way from home, Sentinel. Perhaps we can help each other."

"If I'm going to trust you, I need to see your face."

The man continued with his tinkering. "I apologize for that but I find it is better to prepare people before they see me. My appearance has been known to be….troubling."

Sarah remembered what Follows-Chalk said, and took a few more steps forward. "Why? Are you a ghoul?"

The man snorted. "No. The fire that burned me was not the same fire which burned the world. Aside from appearance, I am completely human."

Sarah continued to move forward until the man finally came into light. Try as she might, she could not hide the shock on her face. Except for his eyes, every inch of the man was covered in bandages. Over his bandages was a U.S. army tactical vest, and once she was able to pry her eyes from Joshua's form, she could see what he had been tinkering with. Half a dozen .45 caliber pistols and pistol parts covered the table, and it gave Sarah an uneasy feeling knowing the man had been this armed the entire time. Joshua decided to break the silence. "The scouts told me of your healing ability. Many believe you are an evil spirit, but I'm guessing the explanation is more worldly."

Sarah swallowed hard, and her eyes looked downward. She had excepted her mutation long ago, but it wasn't like that in the beginning. If it hadn't been for Marcus and her father, Sarah didn't know what would've become of her. It took more time for the rest of the Brotherhood to except her, but after the Battle of the Mall, no one even gave it a second thought. But now, here among these strangers, she felt just as ostracized as she did the day Marcus rescued her from Vault 87. "I was exposed to a virus the U.S. government experimented with before the war."

"The Forced Evolutionary Virus?"

Sarah's jaw hung open. "You know about the FEV?"

Joshua nodded. "The same virus was used by the Master many years ago to create the Super Mutants that terrorized the west coast nearly a century ago. They were stopped by The Vault Dweller; the man who founded the NCR."

"Thomas Lincoln." Sarah blurted out.

Joshua's head tilted to the side. "You know of him?"

"Yes, my – friend is his great-grandson, Marcus Lincoln."

Though she couldn't see his face, it was clear to Sarah that this revelation took the mysterious Joshua Graham by surprise. After a few moments of intense silence, his response was barely above a whisper. "I see." He stood up from his chair. "Your friend will be well taken care of. The shaman from the Sorrows camp can be….eccentric, but he is a great healer. When Mr. Lincoln recovers, we will discuss how we can help each other. Until then, consider this your home." He extended his bandaged hand, and Sarah cautiously took it.

"I told you, this is what they gave me! I swear to God this is the chip!"

Jessup stood over the bruised and beaten courier. Behind him his associate was wrapping up his bloodied right hand, cursing. "Goddamn bastard has a hard head!"

Jessup snorted. "Or maybe you're just a pussy."

The Khan finished wrapping his hand and jabbed Jessup in the back. "Hey! I'll show you a pussy!" He walked around Jessup and began kicking the courier in the stomach.

"Alright, that's enough!" Their employer, the man in the checkered suit muttered. "This is not the right chip. It's a decoy."

Jessup sighed in frustration. "So what do we do about him?"

Their employer didn't even bother to look up. "Kill'em."

The courier raised his hand and began to plead for his life, but was quickly silenced by the other Khan. Jessup walked over to their employer. "Hey! You didn't say anything about killing these guys! All you said was to rough them up."

The man looked at him with cold eyes. "If we don't kill him, he'll warn the other couriers genius!"

Jessup looked at the broken man, who was sobbing and had clearly wet himself.

The checker suited man sighed in annoyance. "Looks like I gotta do everything myself." He grumbled as he drew a 9mm pistol. The courier screamed and begged to no avail, and a single gunshot to the head silenced him. The man holstered his still smoking pistol and looked down at his list. "The next courier will be arriving in Primm in the next couple of days. We'd better hurry if we're going to catch him." He looked Jessup dead in the eye. "Unless there are any more problems."

Jessup stared at the man with contempt. He'd killed plenty of people in his day, but never like this. Still, a job was a job, and neither he or his tribe could afford to be picky these days. "No problems."

The man flashed him a cocky grin, and headed down the road.

Later that night, Marcus had been in and out of consciousness, and he was lying on a bedroll in White Bird's cave. Sarah hadn't left his side since leaving Angle Cave, and Dogmeat was curled up next to her. Though his wounds were healing, Marcus was shivering and the shaman began chanting and mixing something in a wooden bowl.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked in a demanding tone.

"His wounds are healing, but a fever has set in. This will help to break it." He continued to chant, and before Sarah could object, he gently lifted Marcus' head and placed the bowl to his lips. The Lone Wanderer was just responsive enough to gulp down some of the liquid, and he quickly turned over and began to gag. Sarah rushed over and cradled his head in her arms. "Easy Marcus, easy!" Her voice was soft and comforting, while trying to hide her concern. She continued to stroke his hair and cheeks, trying to calm him. She looked to the shaman, who was now chanting and shaking what looked like a rattle over his body. "Is this going to work?"

"His spirit is strong."

Sarah had to resist the urge to grab the tribal by the throat. "But it's going to work, right?"

The shaman stopped his chanting for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. "Fifty-fifty." He continued his chanting, and Sarah watched him with her mouth hung open.

Marcus was standing in the middle of the open desert, nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. He looked down and realized he was in his power armor, and his shock blade was already extended. The sound of a horse caused him to look up, and where there had been nothing but horizon, was now a mounted horse, speeding towards him. As the rider came closer, Marcus began to get a clear view of him. The horse was as black as night, and the rider was wearing a suit of shinning, brass armor. The rider showed no sign of slowing, and soon a large, golden sword appeared in his right hand. Marcus' survival instincts kicked in, and he raised his right hand to fire his gauntlet.

Only his gauntlet was not there. Only his empty hand and PIPBOY. In fact, none of his weapons were present, only his shock blade. The rider was almost on him, and he raised his terrifying sword above his head. Marcus barely had time to raise his shock blade in defense when the sword came crashing down. The blow was unlike anything Marcus had experienced, and he was knocked down to his knees. The rider quickly turned around and charged again, and Marcus scrambled to get back on his feet. This time he tried to counter his attacker by swinging his shock blade upward, to try and unhorse his opponent. But the blow was more intense than the last, and Marcus was knocked flat on his back. Now fear gripped the Lone Wanderer and he got up and began to run, but his legs felt like concrete pillars. It wasn't long before he felt the pain of the sword slashing across his back, and Marcus screamed as he fell down into the sand. Using what little energy he had left, Marcus grunted and rolled onto his back, the pain felt like a thousand needles stabbing him. His attacker was now on foot, and stood over him, a terrifying mask with horns protruding from the sides covering his face.

Then, his attacker spoke in a commanding voice. "The West shall fall as the East fell, and all the tribes that stretch to the setting sun shall bare the mark of the Legion."

He raised the sword above his head, and Marcus screamed as it came crashing down.