The legion was far from Caesar’s Gaul and Rome, banished to a world of magic and dark sorcery. Book One of The Videssos Cycle As they faced one another in a duel of survival, the Roman tribune Marcus Scaurus held the spell-scribed sword of a Druid priest, and the Celtic chieftain Viridovix held a similar sword, bespelled by a rival Druid sorcerer. At the moment they touched, the two found themselves under a strange night sky where no stars were familiar and where Gaul and Rome were unknown. They were in an outpost of the embattled Empire of Videssos—in a world where magic and dark sorcery would test their skill and courage as no Roman legion had ever been tested before.

Foul sorcery had slain the Emperor. Now the army of Videssos, betrayed by one man’s craven folly, fled in panic from the savage victors. But there was no panic in the Legion, mysteriously displaced from Gaul and Rome into this strange world of magic. Wearily, Tribune Marcus Scaurus led his men through the chaos and enemy hordes in search of winter quarters, to regroup and seek to join up with Thorisin Gavras, now rightful ruler of Videssos. But in Videssos the city, capital of the beleaguered realm, Ortaias Sphrantzes, whose cowardice had caused their defeat, now sat upon the throne. There, behind great walls that had always made the city impregnable to storm or siege, he ruled with the support of evil sorcery. Overthrowing him seemed impossible. Grimly, Marcus Scaurus began the long march through hostile country toward that seemingly hopeless attempt.

Videssos was not like Marcus Scarus’ native Rome. But he found politics and intrigue the same—deadly! Book Three of The Videssos Cycle Since the Roman legion had been mysteriously transported to this world of magic, tribune Marcus Scaurus had served the rulers of war-torn Videssos well. He had been largely responsible for ousting the Pretender and putting Thorish Gavras on the throne. That, of course, made him a hero. Rome or Videssos, however, Fortune was a fickle goddess. Now he and the legion were returning in triumph to Videssos the city after defeating a well-entrenched army of rebel mercenaries. But Marcus, betrayed by the one closest to him, was returning to be seized, dragged before the Emperor, and questioned under truth-drug like a traitor. Of the court, only Alypia Gavra stuck by him—but consorting with the Emperor's niece was dangerous. It could lead to exile—or death! Yet Alypia was attractive. And Marcus was lonely . . .

In Videssos the city, tribune Marcus Scaurus was bored. The legion that had been magically transported to this strange world was far away. But the Emperor’s niece Alypia was near—and willing. When their secret trysts were betrayed, Emperor Thorisin Gavras was forced to condemn Marcus as a traitor—but with a promise of freedom and Alypia, if he could reclaim a rebel province from a fanatic usurper, with no military aid. With only centurion Gaius Philippus, Marcus set out to try the seemingly impossible task. But the fates conspired against them, driving them further westward, into the innermost sanctum of Videssos’ great enemy Yezd—and toward the torture chambers of the evil, deathless wizard-prince Avshar. But behind them, without orders, the men of the legion were on the march!

Videssos was beset by enemies abroad and had fallen into decadence at home. But on his first night in the imperial capital, The Empire’s health mattered less to Krispos than finding a dry place to sleep. Driven by crushing taxes from the farm where his family had lived—and died—Krispos had come to the. city seeking what fortune a good mind and a strong back could earn. He had a single goldpiece to his name—the gift, years past, of a nomad chieftain to a ragged peasant boy. Now, though the night was raw and the inn was warm, he was loath to spend that coin, for the barbarian had claimed it carried magic. Keep his lucky goldpiece or trade it for a warm, dry bed? Krispos tucked the coin away and stepped back into the wet streets—all unaware that so simple a choice would lead to a world of peril and possibility...

Against all expectations, Krispos had won the crown of Videssos. But how long could he hope to keep head and crown together? For trouble was brewing in every, quarter. Civil war erupted under Petronas, the late Emperor's uncle. A brilliant general and a canny politician, Petronas had a very personal score to settle against the upstart Krispos. And even as rebel troops took the field against the untried Emperor, outland raiders swept down from the northlands in a tide of carnage. The power stemmed from foulest sorcery, and Videssos' wizards could not counter its evil curse. Krispos reign showed every sign of being brief—and very bloody...

Krispos had held the throne of Videssos since he was scarcely more than a peasant youth. But now a strange heresy has taken root in the land, a hidden dissent that is flaring into open revolt. As Krispos leads his legions with his three sons, against the rebels, one son disappears into the rebel ranks. Then the renegades seize the day, and Krispos wages an ever more desperate war against an implacable foe that would not scruple to set brother against brother, father against son....

THE BORDER WARS An uneasy peace had prevailed these last few years between the Empire of Videssos and rival Makuran. But now Makuran's King of Kings alerted his border holdings—even the small fortress where Abivard's father was lord—to prepare for barbarian raids. But Abivard himself received a warning of a different an eerie prophecy of a field, a hill, and a shield shining across the sea. Before a season had turned, his father and his King lay dead upon the field of battle—the very place foreseen in the vision. Abivard hastened home to defend his family and his land. To his dismay, the most urgent danger came not from marauding tribes, or from Videssos, but from the capital. An obscure and greedy bureaucrat had captured the crown; the rightful heir had disappeared, and no mortal man would say where he might be found. Abivard's strange fate would lead him to his King, though, and on through peril to the very brink of greatness—and of doom! FIRST TIME IN PRINT

THE RED BOOTS Videssos was beset by enemies. A pretender held the throne—a despot who cared little that barbarian hordes and rival realms carved away at his empire, so long as the wealth and booty of the land satisfied his unbridled appetites. Few stood against him. And those few soon found their heads on pikes. Only one name held hope for Maniakes. And from his exile on the very edge of the civilized world, young Maniakes took up the challenge, rallied his forces, and sailed off to topple the tyrant. But the tyrant would use every means at his disposal—fair or most hideously foul—to destroy the crusading upstart. And even if Maniakes could stay alive, he would still have to pull together a battered, divided land as well as fend off a host of enemies—and thwart the former friend who had become his empire's most deadly foe!

A dazzling new fantasy for all the fans of the Videssos Cycle! As the sun gleamed off the gilded domes of Videssos the city, Abivard, marshal of Makuran and son of Godarz, pondered the impossible. How could he carry out the command of Sharbaraz, King of Kings, to destroy the invincible Empire of Videssos? Then, against all expectations, the Emperor of Videssos invaded Makuran itself. Abivard was thrust on the defensive, forced homeward to drive the invaders from the fabled land of the thousand cities. Abivard needed not only his greatest battle skills but his most powerful magicians, for no one doubted that Videssian military strategy would be accompanied by the finest sorcery. Yet even as reality reversed itself and renegades plotted Abivard's ruin, the undaunted warrior vowed never to surrender . . .