Roman - The Fall of Britannia (12 page)

‘
Gwenno,’ smiled Gwydion, ‘I didn’t see you coming. How are
you?’

‘
Oh
you know,’ she said, ‘bored, fed up, almost sixteen.’

‘
I’d
forgotten all about your birthday,’ he lied.

‘
You
had better not,’ she said in mock anger. ‘Anyway, now you are back,
I thought we could spend some time together.’

‘
That sounds nice,’ he said. ‘What do you want to
do?’

‘
I
have it all planned out,’ she replied. ‘In the morning, we will
ride up to big-cat crag and picnic by the waterfall. In the
afternoon, you can teach me to use the bow.’

‘
And
in the evening?’ he asked.

‘
We
will watch the sun set, and if it is very beautiful, I just might
sing for you,’ she smiled. ‘What do you think?’

‘
I
don’t think it sounds like a very manly day,’ he laughed, ‘and that
I will be teased by my comrades.’

‘
Do
you answer to them?’

‘
Of
course not,’ he said, ‘I am my own man.’

‘
In
that case,’ she said walking around the horse, ‘there is no reason
for you not to join me.’

‘
You
forget one thing,’ said Gwydion.

‘
What thing?’

‘
Your father may not be back and I will need his
permission.’

‘
Forget my father, Gwydion,’ she said, ‘there is something you
should know.’

‘
Can’t it wait?’ he asked, ‘I have to sort out my
horse.’

Gwenno fell
silent before pulling him close and kissing him deeply on the lips.
Gwydion returned the kiss momentarily, before pulling himself
away.

‘
Gwenno,’ he said, ‘stop, I don’t think we should.’

‘
I
want to,’ she gasped,’ and kissed him again.

‘
Gwenno, no!’ he said, pushing her away. ‘A few more weeks and
you will be my bride, let’s not spoil it now.’

‘
We
can’t wait,’ she said. ‘You have to take me now!’

‘
Why?’ he asked, realizing the desperate look in her eyes was
not lust, but fear, ‘Gwenno, what’s wrong?’

She hesitated
and her shoulders slumped.

‘
You
should know, Gwydion,’ she said, her head hanging down. ‘I heard my
mother talking to Robbus yesterday. It seems you and I will not be
allowed to marry.’

‘
What?
gasped Gwydion. ‘But it is agreed. Erwyn has
given his approval.’

‘
Erwyn is not here and Robbus becomes my guardian in his
absence.’

‘
Yes, but soon he will return and sense will
prevail.’

‘
I
fear it will be too late,’ she said, the tears starting to flow. ‘I
am to be sent away on my birthday.’

‘
But
why?’ demanded Gwydion, ‘Robbus can’t just send you away against
the wishes of Erwyn; he would simply bring you back.’

‘
Not
from Mona, he can’t!’

‘
The
Druid’s isle?’ he said. ‘Why are you going there?’

‘
Everyone is worried about the coming invasion and Robbus has
asked the Druids for the protection of the Gods. They demanded an
acolyte in return and it seems that I am the one.’

‘
I
don’t understand,’ he said. ‘Why would your mother allow him to
send you?’

‘
Since Erwyn has been gone, she has grown closer to Robbus,’
she said. ‘I fear that he plans to overthrow my father with the
blessing of my mother.’

Gwydion looked
shocked.

‘
You
must be mistaken,’ he said.

‘
I
am not mistaken, Gwydion. Each night she sneaks out to his hut when
she thinks I am asleep. Two nights ago, I followed her and heard
her rutting beneath his furs.’

Gwydion remained
silent. The news of the illicit affair was common knowledge amongst
the warriors, and though it was only a matter of time before they
were discovered, it was a matter for Erwyn to sort out. However,
the possibility of a takeover was a different matter.

‘
If
there is a coup, there will be much blood spilt between the
factions,’ he said. ‘Many in the clan will die.’

‘
I
know,’ she answered, ’and I think that’s why Robbus wants me gone.
In case I betray him to Erwyn before he has chance to put his plan
into action.’

‘
Can’t you just say no?’

‘
I
am the daughter of a chieftain and still untouched by any man. It
would seem that purity is powerful magic for the Druids. Even as we
speak, they send a wagon to collect me. It will be here on my
birthday.’

Gwydion’s face
fell. The Druids were all-powerful and enjoyed absolute respect
from every clan. They were the keepers of the magic and the
servants of the Gods. They had power of life or death over all
tribes and were feared by all. He looked at his love in dismay. If
the Druids had summoned Gwenno then she had to go. It was as simple
as that.

‘
Then there’s nothing we can do!’ he said
unbelievingly.

‘
But
there is!’ she said, her eyes ablaze with hope. ‘Don’t you see, if
you take me as a woman, I will not be a virgin and the magic will
be gone. They will leave us alone and we can be
together.’

‘
If
we do that, Gwenno,’ he said, ‘they will kill us both.’

‘
I
don’t care!’ she said, ‘I would rather have one night with you and
die tomorrow, than face a lifetime on Mona.’

Gwydion shook
his head slowly.

‘
I
can’t do that, Gwenno,’ he said softly. ‘I care not for my life and
would die gladly for a night by your side. The Gods know I have
waited long enough, but I will not see you killed. You cannot stay
here for your life will be in danger whatever happens, and I cannot
take you away for our people will need every spear when the Romans
come. No, if there is blood to be let, then you should be as far
away as possible. At least with the Druids, you will be safe no
matter who wins control of the clan. You must go with them and when
this mess is over; I will find you and take you far away to start
our life together.’

‘
What will you do while I am gone?’ she asked through her
tears.

‘
If
needed, my sword will support Erwyn, but I hope it doesn’t come to
that.’

‘
Oh,
Gwydion,’ she cried and collapsed sobbing into his arms. He held
her tightly long into the evening until they both lay down to sleep
in the hay. It was dark when Gwydion stirred, awoken by a low call
from a comrade outside.

‘
Gwydion,’ the voice said quietly, ‘Robbus would speak to
you.’

‘
I
won’t be long,’ he whispered to Gwenno, ‘wait here.’

She smiled at
him, her tears long dried, and watched as he strode away across the
compound to the central hut, not knowing that it was the last she
would see of him for a long, long time.

----

Chapter
8

After arriving
at the fort, the names of the recruits were taken, and they had
been quartered in tents outside the perimeter until any stragglers
arrived. Finally, when it was obvious that there were no more due,
they were arranged into groups of eighty, and led into the fort
itself. Cassus looked around in fascination, drinking in the
atmosphere of the busy legionary camp, but before he could take
much in, his group stopped in front of a wooden barrack hut. The
timber building consisted of a terrace of twelve rooms fronted by a
covered portico, one of many such blocks arranged in a straight
line along the inner wall of the fort.

‘
This will be your barracks for the foreseeable future,’
announced the soldier who had led them in to the fort. ‘Within its
walls you will find twelve rooms. The first belongs to your
Centurion, and you will never enter it unless ordered to do so. The
next ten are shared between the rest of your Century, eight men in
each and at the end, there is a latrine. When you are dismissed,
you will each settle in to a room and unpack whatever possessions
you carry. Choose your roommates carefully, for this will be your
Contubernium, the men you will live and die alongside. Inside the
room, you will find the equipment you will be expected to carry on
campaign. The heavier equipment will be carried on a mule. Look
after the beast well, for if it dies, you will carry the equipment
until a replacement can be found. There is a mess hall at the end
of the row and there will be a meal served at last light tonight.
Your training starts tomorrow. Form up outside this hut before dawn
and await further instruction. Are there any questions?’

‘
What about weapons, sir?’ asked one man called Montellus,
obviously keen to get stuck in.

‘
You
have not earned the right to bear arms yet. Now if there is nothing
else, I will see you in the morning. Dismissed.’ The soldier
marched away and after a moment’s hesitation, the group broke up to
hurry inside, keen to see their new home. The men who had joined
with Cassus and Prydain since leaving Perre’s ship had formed a
close friendship and they ran forward to be first in the
hut.

‘
Grab the far end,’ shouted Prydain. ‘Away from the door, it
will be warmer.’

‘
No,’ said Cassus, ‘it’s next to the shitter, get one this
end.’

‘
Bollocks to that,’ said Montellus, ‘it’s next to the
Centurion’s rooms and I want to be as far away from him as
possible.’ They settled for one somewhere near the centre and all
piled in, throwing their possessions onto whatever bunks they
could.

The room was
sparsely furnished, containing four double bunks with a folded
horsehair mattress on each, a long table with bench seating on both
sides and a stone hearth beneath a shuttered window. An iron grill
and a large brass pot sat on the hearth, all of which were intended
for communal cooking. A stone grinding mill sat in the centre of
the table to prepare barley or wheat for dough, along with eight
water flasks, bowls and eating tools, spooned at one end for
ladling and spiked at the other for spearing meat. A heavy hooded
cloak lay folded on each bed along with two white tunics, a belt, a
pair of leather Caligae and two woollen blankets. To one side,
another doorway opened into a smaller room containing a second fire
slab and a drain hole through the wall.

‘
Drying clothes and storage,’ ventured Montellus when the use
of the room was questioned. Already stored in the room were a large
tent and a range of tools including heavy axes, spades and saws. A
wicker basket contained a range of smaller hand tools including
hammers, planes and files along with sewing equipment, a Strigil,
the curved tool used for scraping the skin during bathing and a set
of grooming tools for the mule. Finally, in the corner, lay a
bundle of stakes, each four foot long and sharpened at both ends,
the use of which was as yet unknown to members of the
Contubernium.

‘
I
suppose we will find out soon enough,’ said Cassus as they returned
to the bunkroom. ‘Come on, let’s have a look around the
fort.’

‘
I’m
going to find the mule,’ said Montellus. ‘By the look of that lot
in there, we need to make sure we have a healthy
animal.’

----

The following
morning, a line of a hundred men stood outside the walls of the
fort waiting patiently in the pre-dawn darkness for the day’s
activities to begin. Each was dressed in a black tunic and wore a
simple sword belt complete with a wooden Gladius. These were the
training Tessaria, handpicked veterans who had either recently
retired from active service, or had suffered some minor injury
during service. Some only had one eye, others perhaps a hand or
lower arm missing, while old battle wounds disfigured some of the
others. They waited patiently to greet their new charges, civilians
that they had been tasked to turn into efficient killing machines
over the next few months.

A murmur of
sound echoed from within the fort and a double file of nervous
recruits marched out onto the training ground. As they emerged,
they lined up in groups of eight behind the Tessaria. Each recruit
was dressed in a white tunic gathered at the waist with a corded
belt. By the time, the sun had cleared the horizon; eight hundred
men stood shivering on the plain, waiting nervously to be told what
to do next.

The buzz of
nervous chatter slowly died as a column of trained legionaries
marched out of the fort, perfectly in step, finally halting and
turning inward to face the recruits across the cobbled road. The
two groups faced each other, one alive with anticipation and
excitement, the other littered with indifference and
contempt.

Eventually, an
officer rode a black charger out of the gate. His armour was
gleaming bronze and on his head, he wore a glistening helmet with
hinged metal plates hanging from the brim. A scarlet cape hung from
his shoulders completing the ceremonial uniform.

He stopped his
horse and looked around those who had volunteered for servitude in
the legions of the Emperor. Landowners, freedmen and tradesmen
stood before him, each with their own reasons to be there. The
dross had been filtered out during the recruitment process and for
their impudence; runaway slaves who had sought to seek a different
fate had been sent to the salt mines. Bankrupts and murderers,
seeking refuge from Rome’s justice, had been handed over to the
magistrates, and the papers of every applicant had been carefully
scrutinized for authenticity. Rome didn’t allow just anyone into
her ranks. Desperate or not, she had her standards to
maintain.