Pomona held a slip of paper with "fdt" written on it. At first, she did not understand it, but later learned that in French it stood for "cemetery district" (fief des tombes).
How hard was it to find a cemetery in Paris?
In fact, cemeteries were almost everywhere in the city. Even on a bustling street like Rue Saint-Jacques, one could find the fdt sign.
She searched the city for two days before finally finding the rendezvous point.
She looked up at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. It was the moment between light and dark: the sun had not yet fully set, leaving half the sky golden and the other half already black, while the lights that usually illuminated the tower had yet to come on.
People came and went through the Champ de Mars beneath the tower, none of them feeling the eerie terror of a cemetery.
She had been to Père Lachaise Cemetery, which had been built like a park as well. But the people buried beneath the Eiffel Tower were not artists.
A veil of smoke drifted before her eyes, and the leisurely modern view was replaced by an ancient battlefield. Gauls painted head to toe in red fought desperately against Romans wearing helmets crowned with red horsehair.
In Caesar's The Gallic War, all of Gaul had submitted by summer. Caesar had hoped to rest in his winter camp, but news arrived that many tribes were plotting. All Gaul knew that they could not defeat the Roman legions in a pitched battle, so they believed that if several tribes rose up in different places at the same time, Rome's troops and resources would be stretched too thin to cope.
But that meant several tribes would inevitably suffer for it. The city of Letutia—where the Champ de