Seven Bloody Hills

Depending on the teller, the story of how Rome was founded was different.

There were boy kings being suckled by she-wolves and war-shattered, heart-sore Trojans trying to find a safe place to call home after the Greeks left Ilium in ashes.

Both tales were told, and both could be true. It didnt matter what came out of the ground to say otherwise; the story of Rome—the dream of it—was what mattered the most.

Before Rome was a city, it had been seven lush, fertile hills that tribal lords had fought over. When the gods of Greece and Egypt were already ancient, the Roman gods were just coming into being in the great squabble for supremacy.

There was no questioning that Rome had begun with bloodshed and that war had been its business and greatest export. In all the smoke, betrayal, and mud, there grew soldiers, an empire, and gods. Amongst the cries of women stolen to populate the growing settlement and the blood sacrificed by their loved ones to try and get them back, something else alsocame into being.

Bellona was born from the lamenting of women, in fields of the slain, and the triumphant cries of victors.

And she had been hearing them screaming ever since.