Laughing Wolf Read Online Free

glad I haven’t experienced this bloodshed for myself.”
    He read how a fourth Roman army was mustered, a huge one under the command of Crassus. The slaves marched to the toe of Italy where they planned to hire boats and sail to Sicily. Unfortunately, these ships failed to appear and Crassus boxed them in with a wall that was eight feet tall and twelve miles long. Heavy fighting followed. While the slaves smashed the wall and forced their way north, thirty thousand souls were lost in the process. In a final battle by the Silarus River, Spartacus took a gamble and charged the Roman army: the odds were stacked against him, however, and the Romans cut his troops to pieces. The gladiator himself died in combat. The surviving slaves, six thousand men, were crucified by Crassus along the Appian Way, as a warning to all slaves that their attempts to revolt would be ruthlessly dealt with. And so ended the famous slave rebellion.
    Felix paused. He was going to ask his father what he thought of Spartacus but, as he looked up from his book, his mouth dropped open. His father was … sleeping! What on earth …? Through all their many lessons together, not once had his father nodded off on the job. In fact, when Felix himself had been tempted to nap, how many times had he been told that their lessons were too precious to waste a single moment snoozing?
    Felix blushed. His father was snoring. Closing his book, he climbed to his feet and tiptoed toward the start of the garden. His initial impulse had been to wake his father, but his face was pale and he looked exhausted and it seemed a good idea to let him sleep until supper.
    He retreated to the staircase. As he climbed its steps, he thought about the people who had collapsed that day and how their prostrate forms resembled his father’s. Not that he was worried: if his father were sick, Mentor would have caught it.
    A loud, raucous cawing broke in on his thoughts. Spinning about, he looked around him. What was that racket …? Oh!
    A crow had alighted on the tree’s top branch. Its plumage was black as pitch and its beak looked sharp and menacing. Felix was amazed. Crows were rarely seen in the city — they had left when humans had started controlling the weather.
    But there was something else. For a moment, he thought the air about his father had split in half, revealing a figure who looked … exactly like himself. He shook himself vigorously: no, the apparition was gone.
    But the crow was still there. As if aware of Felix’s stare, it perched itself beside his father. “ Aagh , aagh , aagh ,” it cried, as if addressing him directly. A shiver ran down Felix’s spine. The crow was poised to his father’s right: according to Roman traditions, a sighting like this was a terrible sign.
    â€œGo away!” Felix yelled.
    â€œ Aagh , aagh , aagh !” the crow continued.
    â€œGo away!” he repeated, “Leave my father alone!”
    â€œ Aagh , aagh , aagh !” the crow called, more insistently than ever. Abandoning the bough, he alighted on his dad’s right shoulder. And still his father continued to sleep.
    This was more than Felix could bear. Hurrying down the staircase, he rushed toward the tree. Observing his approach, the crow finally took wing. It circled the tree and cawed once or twice, as if deliberately insulting Felix further … unless it was warning him of trouble ahead. Tracing one last circle, the bird shot into the sky and, seconds later, was a point in the distance.
    Although he didn’t believe in ghosts or superstitions, Felix had to concentrate to keep his legs from shaking.

Chapter Three
    W hen Felix awoke the next morning, his nervousness was gone. He’d slept like a log, it was beautiful outside, and the headlines on the news communicator spoke of sports, off-world projects, and upgrades to the weather template. There was no mention of people collapsing at random and that meant