He cursed himself for letting Mithras think he had given any ground.

Eventually his worship found its way to Rome where he is Mithras.

He lifted the sword again, laying the edge on Mithras' other arm.

Mithras had made him rethink and rejustify some of his divine actions.

Wake, Otanes, wake, the Magi are singing the morning hymn to Mithras.

Zeus released his grip and Mithras sighed, nearly collapsing in a heap.

Jesus, Horus, Dionysus, Helios, and Mithras all claim Yule as their birthday.

A brave foe, by Mithras, is far better than a feeble friend.

Mithras looked up, saw the faces, winced, and dropped his head again.

Who among Mithras' followers would know the truth about these things?

Zeus placed the edge of the sword on Mithras' exposed upper right arm.

He gazed uneasily at the massed enemy ranks, asking for Mithras' continued favour.

The Mysteries of Mithras flourished more than any others in the imperial city.

Others in the crowd held back the aggressors and urged Mithras to flee.

Mithras's shrine still gets some worshipers, and of course that of Jupiter Ammon.

Ethically, I find Mithras the best of all the mystery cults.