Absalon cackled with triumph as he let the mancala beans he had won pour through his fingers, pattering back onto his side of the board like raindrops. “What is it the Romans like to say? ‘I came, I saw, I conquered’?”
Himilco grumbled as he rested his brow on the palm of his hand. “You say that at least as often as the Romans themselves.”
“Because I am always conquering you, that’s why!”
Himilco had to admit, his fellow Sophet had a...
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