Mostrando resultados por autor "David Wishart" en Todas las categorías

From a hunting and gathering lifestyle to first contact with Europeans to land dispossession to claims cases, and much more, Wishart takes a wide-angle look at one of the most significant groups of people in the country. Myriad internal and external forces have profoundly shaped Indian lives on the Great Plains.

When Marcus Corvinus is given a letter from Sertorius Macro, the Emperor Caligula’s erstwhile adviser forced into suicide for plotting against him, claiming that he was innocent and asking Corvinus to clear his name, he isn’t keen on the job at all; sticking your nose into the political dirty laundry basket is currently just too damned dangerous. However, when the inconsistencies begin to mount up, Corvinus is firmly hooked. It’ll take him two near-death experiences, a lot of fancy footwork in avoiding the fatal attentions of Rome’s great and not so good, and some serious riot-...

‘I need a favour from you, Corvinus. Do what Occusia asks, and I’ll be very grateful. Very grateful indeed. Turn her down, or fudge things, and – watch my lips here, please – you’ll wish that you’d never been born. Your choice, absolutely no pressure. You understand?’ Four years down the line, and Sempronius Eutacticus is still the charming, good-natured organized-crime boss that he was when they last met. Now his stepson has gone missing, and he wants Corvinus to trace him. Not that it should be difficult, mind: there’s no cause for concern, because young Titus has simply ...

‘Ah, Corvinus.’ Eutacticus was beaming. Bad sign; bad, bad sign. ‘Glad you could make it. Sit down, boy. You had a good summer?’ Oh, shit; small talk. With Eutacticus you never, ever got small talk. Forget bad; in terms of signs we were into fully-fledged omen territory here. ‘It was interesting, yeah,’ I said. ‘We were away most of the time. We’ve just got back, in fact.’ ‘Excellent! So you won’t have unpacked yet?’ ‘Ah...no, as it happens. We’re planning to go down to Castrimoenium to see our adopted daughter and her family. They’re–’ ‘Were planning.’...

Bathyllus was standing with his back to me, and sitting on the bed was a seriously-unshaven late-middle-aged man in a grubby threadbare tunic. Bathyllus turned round, the guy got up, and they both stared at me, jaws dropping, like actors at the end of a play where the god is lowered from a crane to sort out a too-convoluted plot. ‘Hi, sunshine,’ I said to Bathyllus. ‘So who’s your friend?’ I’d never, ever seen Bathyllus lost for words before, but I saw it now. He swallowed a couple of times, coughed, and then said: ‘This is Damon, sir. He’s my brother.’ When Corvinus’s ...

When the ex-praetor husband of a friend of Claudius's mother-in-law is found murdered on his estate near Carthage the emperor gives Corvinus the job of working out whodunnit. The twentieth book in the Marcus Corvinus series.