Druids (48 page)

Memory is a dark tunnel with brightly lighted caves along its sides. In one of these I see Rix as he appeared that day. His body has thickened with muscle, his cheekbones thrust out like boul-ders above his flowing moustache. In his proud face the contradictory qualities of good humor and ferocity are balanced.

A man to match against Caesar.

298 Morgan Llywelyn

Perhaps it is only memory that invests Rix with splendor. In reality he was human, muddy and tense and probably cold, for there was a fierce wind blowing. But he threw me the old, dazzling grin as he slid from his horse. He did not run to meet me like a boy, however. He strode forward like a king, with the wind lifting the wolf fur cloak that hung from his shoulders.

“Ainvar.”

“Rix. Vercingetorix,” I amended.

We did not hug and pound; time had taken that from us. Our eyes locked, then by unspoken agreement we walked a distance away from our followers and sat down together on the moss-crusted trunk of a fallen tree, beside a collapsed lodge.

Rix nodded toward Crom Daral, who was waiting with the rest of my bodyguard. “I see you brought the hunchback.”

“He isn’t a true hunchback. He exaggerates the crookedness

of his spine to get sympathy.”

“Pity,” said Rix scornfully, calling Crom Daral’s desire by its true name, “is the soggiest of emotions. I’m surprised you let such a person come anywhere near you.”

“It seems wiser than leaving him behind. He’s a proven troublemaker, I’m afraid, and I feel better when I have him where I can see what he’s doing.”

Rix directed a second and longer look at Crom Daral. “Do

you think he’s a spy?”

“Ah no, I don’t believe he would willfully betray his tribe, for all his faults. But he sees things only in relation to himself, which makes him unreliable. When we were ready to leave the Fort of the Grove this time, he kept us waiting on our horses while he went to take care of some personal matter he wouldn’t explain. He acted as if Crom DaraTs problems were more important than

the defense of Gaul.”

“Cut his throat,” Rix advised. I could not be certain he was

joking. “I once warned you about Crom Daral, remember?” “I remember. And I do watch him.” “And the Romans watch you,” he reminded me. “They do indeed.” I told him then about Gaius Cita; I did not

try to keep the indignation from my voice as I said,’ ‘He’s pressing

Nantorus to let him have our grain to feed to the Roman legions

next fighting season—in free Gaul!”

As I spoke, I was watching Rix. No muscle in his face twitched,

no eyelid flickered. Yet I was reminded of my earliest impression

of him, a feeling that he might explode at any moment.

With one square thumbnail he pried a section of vivid green

DRUIDS 299

moss from the tree trunk on which we sat and turned it over and over as if musing upon it. Then he tossed it away, a tiny piece of

spinning greenness. He looked at me. His eyes were clear and cold. In the softest of voices, Rix said, ‘ ‘Instead of your grain we shall give them spears to eat, Ainvar, and their own blood to drink. The time has come.”

“Yes.” I could feel my heart beginning to race. “The time has come.”

The words were said. The trees heard them. The wind took them from us and sang them across Gaul in a thin, bitter voice.

We were a people who enjoyed noise and display, but now we must be secretive. Messengers were sent, soft-going as owls, to summon the leaders of the allied tribes to meet with Rix at an appointed time, deep in the forest.

They came. Senones, Parisii, Pictones, Helvii, Gabali, and more … they came to the summons of Vercingetorix.

I stood just behind him as they lifted their standards to him. Some we had not expected were there. Some we had expected were not there. Some meant to nght their own way and were only accepting Vercingetorix as leader in the heat of the moment, I knew. But as long as he was standing in front of them, tall and proud and brimming with energy, they were his.

So was I.

“My own Camutes volunteer to strike the first blow,” I announced. “We believe the war against Caesar should begin in the land of the great grove.”

The princes of the other tribes cheered the courage of the Carnutes.

“Caesar is in Latium,” Rix told them, “which gives us an advantage. We will take the Romans by surprise. They are not accustomed to undertaking a war when he is so far away from them. Attacking them in his absence will throw them into confusion.”

So I hoped.

* ‘Vercingetorix has an old head,” I heard someone in the crowd say approvingly.

Rix had his father’s sword. He held it up for them to see. “This belonged to Celtillus, who was a brave man. Every prince among you has warriors sworn to him on their swords. On this sword I swear myself to you; to all of you. I will fight for your freedom to the last breath in my body. Vercingetorix belongs to you now. Use him well.”

300 Morgan Llywelyn

The forest rang with their cheering voices. I can hear them still, through the long, dark tunnel of memory.

At the conclusion of the assembly, every man present took an oath, binding upon his tribe, not to desert the others once war

began. They stood in a circle and one by one cut their arms with their daggers, then each one pressed his bleeding arm against another’s.

The confederacy of Gaul was a reality, sworn in iron and blood.

I turned to share the moment of triumph with my bodyguard— and surprised a look on Crom Daral’s face that made me distinctly uneasy. He looked guilty. But guilty of what? I tried to dismiss it from my mind. I wanted nothing to ruin the occasion.

That night I performed rituals of divination to determine the best time for the Camutes to attack the might of Rome. Rix was skeptical. “The best time is whenever you’re ready, Ainvar. There’s no need for you to consult with stars and stones.”

I did not reply, but I smiled to myself, remembering the way he had stared at a piece of moss as if it had a message for him. In time we will win you back, I thought. The’ conversation is not ended.

THE WARLORDS OF Gaul departed to make their preparations for war, and I took my leave of Rix. “The next time we meet we’ll be fighting Caesar,” I said.

“I want you beside me when we face him,” Rix replied. His eyes glowed with eagerness to meet the Roman. He hungered to fight Caesar man to man, pitting himself against this most dangerous of opponents in a physical struggle. My duty was to outfhink the Roman.

Once I had tried to keep them apart. Now I saw it was inevi-

DRUIDS 301

table from the beginning that they come together like two stags in the forest, antler clashing on antler.

I was going north to Cenabum. Rix, having won pledges of support from at least some of the Boil, was returning to Gergovia somewhat reluctantly. “My uncle Gobannitio is back in Gergovia,” he explained, “poisoning the air. Did I tell you that Caesar had found time to send me yet another ‘gift of friendship’? Four excellent African mares, this time. Gobannitio at once began trumpeting how desirable it would be for the Arvemi to accept a Roman alliance, and what a fool I was to attempt a Gaulish union. Alliance indeed,” he snorted. “Domination, though Gobannitio refuses to see it that way.”

“Did you send the horses back to Caesar? Four is a weak number.”

‘ ‘Are you mad? I kept them. Rather, I gave them to my black stallion there as a token of my friendship! But that didn’t solve the problem of Gobannitio, of course.”

“Cut his throat,” I suggested.

Rix laughed.

When I was within sight of the walls of Cenabum, I had my men make camp for us in a secluded pocket of woodland. From there I sent the necessary messages. Then I waited, occupying myself with conducting rituals of power and protection and keeping an eye on Crom Daral—

There was something very wrong with Crom Daral, but I was too preoccupied with Caesar to be able to concentrate on reading him.

Those I had summoned converged upon Cenabum on the night appointed. Shortly before dawn we saw a lurid light in the sky above the fortified town and ran for our horses.

The gates of Cenabum were ajar, with no sentries manning them. The town was lit by flames. We were met by a cacophony of shrieks and yells and war cries, and the crashing of timbers as roofs collapsed from the fire. I reined my nervous horse to a dancing walk and rode between the lodges. People running in every direction repeated the same news: “They’re killing the Ro-mans! They’re killing the Romans!”

Indeed they were.

At my command, the princes Cotuatus and Conconnetodumnus had led their followers in an assault against every Roman in Cenabum. Shortly before dawn the traders had been dragged from their beds and run through with swords, their bodies tossed in a bloody pile. The townspeople promptly began kicking and ston-302 Morgan Llywelyn

ing the dead, settling old grudges. There was not a person in Cenabum who did not believe the traders had cheated him at some time. They were harvesting a brutal revenge; no grudge ever falls on barren soil.

A special punishment had been reserved for Gaius Cita, to balance the death of Acco. I, who had studied with Aberth the great sacrificer, was its designer.

The Roman official was stretched on the ground with his four limbs chained to four poles, his head making the fifth point of a star. A small platform of oak was placed upon his chest, and one by one the stones of Gaul were piled atop it until he screamed and blood ran from every aperture of his body. The hounds of Cenabum slunk forward on their bellies to lap it up,

When Cita was cold and staring, we put his head on a pole, as the Romans had done with Acco, and I sent a company of warriors to deliver the thing to the nearest Roman camp.

War was declared.

That night Nantorus and I feasted with the princes of the Carnutes, and many cheers were raised for Cotuatus and Conco. Meanwhile, the people of Cenabum plundered the ruined buildings of the traders and finished burning them to the ground.

When at last I sought a bed, I slept as soundly as a heap of stones. I did not dream. The Otherworld had no message for me, which puzzles me to this day.

By the time I was sleeping, the news of the devastating attack on the Romans at Cenabum had been shouted as far as the lands of the Arvemi, and Rix knew of our success. While I was riding home to the Fort of the Grove, he was urging his own people to take up arms in the cause of freedom. His uncle argued; losing patience with Gobannitio, Rix drove him and the few who still agreed with him out of Gergovia. He then sent deputations to the tribes of free Gaul, reminding them of their oath to remain loyal when war broke out.

Rix demanded that each tribe send hostages to him to assure him of their obedience, and also warriors to serve as officers in the field under his command. Like Caesar, he was being simultaneously threatening and generous. He had prepared thoroughly, he knew exactly how many weapons he could demand of each tribe and what resources were available. In the matter of cavalry alone, he had a mighty force planned in his own head before the first horseman arrived from one of the allied tribes.

Preparing for war, Vercingetorix was like a flower blooming.

“I love battle,” he had once said to me. “I love the feeling

DRUIDS 303

when I know I’m going to win and my enemy will die on my sword. There’s a high, singing excitement to it, Ainvar, like drinking too much wine—only better. I love it.”

Men are best at that which they love. I have never thought that Vercingetorix loved killing; his spirit was not actually given over to bloodlust. He loved winning. The bloodlust only arose as an incidental.

Help me to help him win, 1 prayed to That Which Watched as I rode to the Fort of the Grove. Like Tarvos, I was more motivated by the fear of losing. Losing to Caesar would be catastrophic. The very thought made me ride harder, suddenly anxious to have Briga in my arms again and see our daughter’s infant smile.

Then I realized one of our number was hanging back, falling behind almost deliberately.

“What’s the matter with you, Crom Daral?” I snapped at him.

“I’m not a good rider, Ainvar, you know that. Let me go at my own pace.”

“You can keep up with us if you want to; exert yourself for a change.”

“I can’t. Go on without me.”

I scowled at him. He was becoming a constant unpleasantness.

He made me feel like a man who has a giant wart on the end of his nose, spoiling his view in every direction. “As it is, then!” I shouted. “Ride slow or ride fast or’sit right there and suck your thumb!” I urged my horse forward at the gallop and the rest of my bodyguard followed.

When I looked over my shoulder, Crom had halted and was sitting on his horse looking pathetic.

“You would think he didn’t want to go in with us,” remarked the man riding nearest to me.

We galloped on; soon enough the land rose to form the sacred ridge, and the oaks lifted their arms to the sky to welcome me.

Briga was waiting for me at the gate of the fort. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Lakutu was standing just behind her, wringing her hands. The rest of our women were crowded around them, wearing expressions that would give the mightiest warrior pause.

“Our daughter was stolen, Ainvar,” was Briga’s greeting to me. “Lakutu can tell you.”

I slid from my horse. “Lakutu? Is this true?”

She flinched as if she expected me to strike her. ‘ ‘I do what we agree, Ainvar. Briga slept, 1 took baby to hide. For just little while. I met the one called Crom Daral going for his horse. He

304 Morgan Uywelyn

asked why I had your baby. He was your friend, he gave you gold. I thought it safe to tell him.

‘ ‘He said to me, ‘I hide baby for you.’

” *No,’ I say to him. But he insist. He say, ‘We put baby in my lodge. No one look there.’ It seemed good plan, Ainvar. He was your friend, I trusted!” Lakutu’s voice rose in a wail of distress.

Briga’s eyes were like chipped flint.

So while we were waiting for him, Crom Daral had been taking my daughter to his lodge and arranging for Baroc to look after the child. They had apparently agreed that once we had left, Baroc would sneak out of the fort with her and take her to some distant, prearranged place where Crom Daral would join them when we returned. Then he had come to us as if nothing had happened, and gone all the way to Rix to keep me from being suspicious.