#Pax Massilia

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Pax Massilia

Pax Massilia (Serie 2023) #TewfikJallab #JeanneGoursaud #NicolasDuvauchelle #OlivierBarthelemy #LaniSogoyou #IdirAzougli Mehr auf:

Serie / Blood Coast Jahr: 2023- (Dezember) Genre: Action / Krimi / Drama Hauptrollen: Tewfik Jallab, Jeanne Goursaud, Nicolas Duvauchelle, Olivier Barthelemy, Lani Sogoyou, Idir Azougli, Samir Boitard, Moussa Maaskri, Florence Thomassin, Diouc Koma … Serienbeschreibung: Marseille, an der südlichen Küste Frankreichs: Auf den ersten Blick ist die malerische Hafenstadt ein echtes Paradis für…

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BLOOD COAST Netflix Series Review (2023) | Pax Massilia

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La série Pax Massilia dévoile sa bande annonce. https://www.cine974.com/actu-cine/la-serie-pax-massilia-devoile-sa-bande-annonce/5231/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

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Olivier Barthélémy Pax Massilia Grey Jacket

Product Specifications:

Inspired by: Olivier Barthélémy

External Material: Fabric

Inner: Viscose Lining

Front: Buttoned Closure

Collar: Shirt Collar

Color: Grey

Pockets: Four Outside and Two Inside

Sleeves: Full-length Sleeves

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A day’s ride outside Massilia, the coastal plain gives way to high hills covered with forest, and the man galloped without hesitation into the trees. Diogenes, the town grump, had recommended the route to him. “In the forest,” he’d kvetched, “you can remember your name.” It sounded perfect, and strangely congruent with the advice Livia had given him (perhaps given was too intentional a word for that aging matriarch at this point) before he flew the coop. Tiberius was her son; perhaps that made her affectation of incompetence all the more plausible, and the situation all the more tragic for her. But she was dying and even in death the grand stratektrix would never betray what she was thinking. “Go to your namesake,” was all she had said. So he’d hopped a fast ship to Massilia, the kind only his house could buy, and had stayed there somewhat aimlessly for the last two weeks. He supposed that one part of the injunction, given Tiberius’ increasing penchant for house arrests, was to enjoy himself before he no longer could, and so he did.  But two weeks of merriment soon wore thin, and he began to think about where he was really headed. His namesake? Which one? Gaul had seemed like a good start; it was Gaius Julius’ most famous command, but there was more to Gaul (especially Julian Gaul) than Narbo and, he supposed, more to himself than Caesar. Two cohorts due for the Fifth Legion had come into the port during his first week there. After a few days contributing both positively and negatively to the economic activity in the town, they had marched north to join their new comrades. It had taken a few more days for the story to click, for Rome's Fifth Legion, nicknamed the Alauda, had once been under the command of his father. It had taken a few additional days to get going, since Diogenes had been so fun. He'd first noticed the Greek at the end of his first week sitting in the town square and they got to talking a few days later. The last forty-eight hours in Massilia had been spent in his company in a corner of the town square, shooting the shit under a shady awning by day and fooling around at night. But now he was seated on a horse with no name purchased hastily at a market outside the city, charging into the forest in search of any sign of their passage. "Just yell at him to go fast," said the stablehand. It took him a mere three days to catch up to the soldiers, careerist and careless in the Pax Augusta. He fell in with them as a traveler and it wasn't until they'd made camp at Trier that somebody recognized him, extrapolated from his time as a four-year-old shadow of his father. The night of his reveal, the Fifth Alauda had a feast. Their little totem was home. He had no intention of staying a soldier, but threw himself into the life of one anyway, sparring with the men and observing their drills, throwing javelin and arrow into targets, and drinking with them at night. Germanicus, like Caesar before him, had been famous for mixing with his soldiers but though the youth had the general's name, he lacked the command that had enabled such free discourse. Perhaps in an earlier, more noble era for the Roman military, the soldiers would not have allowed a callow heir such latitude, but afforded him only the respect he had earned or the respect accorded to unknown superiority. They were home, and had gotten comfortable. It was the fifth night and he was drinking in the tavern tent with two other centuries. "Sodality-house swill," he teased the table about what they were drinking. "For the fifth night in a row. When do we get the good stuff?" There were roars of laughter at that. "That is up to you, dear Caligula. When you distribute our bonuses, we can feast as you deserve!" "Bonuses?" said Caligula, and the quizzical tone of his voice brought a hush down on the tavern. "Bonuses..." slurred the centurion. "Like your father gave before you, like Augustus gave before him, what keeps the soldiers of Rome in their place. We thought the caravan was a few days behind you...understandably slower, what with all the sesterces it's carrying...ha...ha." The veteran stared him down. "But there is no caravan, is there boy?" "No, there is not," Caligula sighed. "Well," drawled the centurion. His eyes slid left, then right to case the conviction of his buddies. "The Fifth Alauda must make its own luck, then. I'm sure there are those in Rome who would be very interested in the safe and unharmed return of an imperial child. For the right price, we can oblige." Caligula was already on his feet. By luck, there was nobody on a stool behind him and he had a clear path to the doorway. Before the other soldiers could close in on him, he'd darted away from the bar and out the door. The stable was just around the corner. He would make it. His eyes swerved wildly as he entered the barn. Any horse would do; he spotted an open stall to his left and dashed over. "Swiftly, swiftly!" he cried, riding out and through the crowd massing at the doorway. One hand clutched at his foot and came away with a sandal. As he galloped back into the courtyard, he searched for attempts to hinder his progress, nascent barriers and caltrops. His speed was good and he might make it out without too much trouble. A legionary near the gate shouted and, casting about in vain for help, toppled a bundle of logs in front of the portal. Desperately, Caligula dug his heels into the side of his horse, who vaulted over a gap between two logs and into freedom. Two minutes into his gallop across the alluvial plain, he heard voices behind him and knew he was being pursued. He broke left toward the forest and the horse obeyed without question. So too would theirs, he thought. Either one of them outran the other, or he'd end it a different way. He chanced a glance behind him. The riders had thinned but were still coming strong, only two of them now. How to trick them? What would he do? All he had was a knife. He searched ahead for a bend in the road, crossed to beyond the sight of his pursuers, and bided his time. The hoofbeats grew louder and Caligula loosely judged the timing. As his pursuers crested the bend, he urged his horse forward. The quarters were close; he was only ten feet past the bend, and the momentum of his horse, obedient and true, bowled one of the riders off his mount. Caligula screamed and dug his heels in. The hooves were placed just right and crushed the legionary's chest. The other rider had swung wide and was closing in. He held his gladius like a lance and Caligula was broadside to him, having arrested in the bloody remains of his opponent. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and thrust his knife into his horse's neck, where the backbone was. He sawed furiously and the beast's legs went limp as it fell sideways with a scream. Caligula jerked his hips toward his pursuer to set up the fall and then away, slipping off the other side of his horse and away. The point of the gladius jabbed right through where his head had been. "That was stupid," he thought. But the tactic had worked. His horse collapsed into the other, throwing his opponent to the ground. Caligula jumped to his feet, surveying the damage. He would lose his advantage in moments. His second pursuer was on all fours, dazed. Caligula aimed a kick at the crown of his helmet, reasoning that it would stun him further. The legionary fell and Caligula closed the distance to the ground. His first knife thrust went wide, but the second landed in flank and the third scraped a rib and bit deep. His opponent gasped and writhed. Caligula's numb fingers slipped from the knife and he observed in silence the death throes. The world was pinpoint on the pair of them and widened as his stress subsided to admit the delicate whickering of the last horse standing. Caligula looked up and recognized with a shock the horse he'd rode in on, the one you just told to go fast. Something shifted in his belly; the coincidence seemed to justify the horrors of the last hour and Caligula began to laugh, for all that Rome was dead. "We will be good friends, Incitatus," he said softly to his horse, raising the back of his hand for the animal to sniff. "It's just you and me now."

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La série Pax Massilia dévoie sa bande annonce. https://www.cine974.com/actu-cine/la-serie-pax-massilia-devoie-sa-bande-annonce/5231/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr