James O. Miller - Historical Novel

https://theoviebooks.wordpress.com/ The sun, a fiery orange disc, sank slowly behind the jagged peaks of Mount Kronos. Shadows stretched long across the sacred plains, and the last rays of daylight clung to the hills as if reluctant to leave. Near the gates of the ancient stadium of Olympia, Nikomedes stood, his broad frame silhouetted against the golden light. The faint scent of wild olives filled the air, mingling with the distant sounds of laughter and the clinking of bronze armour. It was