A victim's tale. When Titta felt that vengeance had been had.

Noises in the night.

I swear, it happened many a time during Spring, between March and May in particular. Passing down towards Pietra Porzia directed to Casale Marchese, at dawn, in that twilight zone when it's neither night nor day, with my wine cart that crunched along the road. The vineyards deserted as they awaited the women to tie them. A loud metallic sound, a lapping of the lake waters and cries of ancient warriors…every time I stopped my horse, at first, just silence and then clearer and clearer I could hear the clash enrage..there in the mist I awaited... and the Regillo still seemed to divide the last Tusculum Latins and the invincible Capitoline Dioscuri. Then I re-lit my pipe calmly and started back on my way to the Blond Tiber with my load of wine. A minor, fanciful heir, of a similarly fatal destiny.