by Kevin Ashman
All around him Roman was taking on barbarian, and, no sooner had Cassus withdrawn his blade from the dead warrior, than another took his place. This time it was easier, as though the Century’s ranks were still tight, there was more room to manoeuvre and the superior Roman tactics kicked in.
‘Step, punch, thrust!’ repeated Cassus to himself as he advanced, repeating the drill commands from the training ground. Time and time again his blade met flesh and a living, breathing man fell at his feet to have his face caved in by hobnailed Caligae. All around, the same drills were followed by terrified but disciplined men and the result was slaughter.
‘Front rank fall back!’ roared Remus suddenly, ‘Second rank move up!’
Ignoring the command, Cassus carried on advancing, caught up in the blood lust as he delivered blow after blow to the terrified enemy.
‘Fall back, soldier!’ screamed a man behind him.
The command sank in, and Cassus stopped where he was, gasping for breath as the rear ranks barged past him with renewed vigour and fresh muscle. He looked around at the battle taking place all around him. The main thrust was clearly advancing through the weaker lines of warriors, and on the sides, he could see the defensive flanking units protecting the sides of the Century. Everywhere, man killed man without quarter, and, though the Romans were taking casualties, they were nothing compared to the undisciplined warriors.
‘Change your shield!’ shouted Julius by his side. ‘Follow me!’
Cassus discarded his shattered shield, and, picking up one from a fallen comrade, joined ten others running to the left where the advance was faltering. They ploughed into the fray with renewed vigour, providing the reinforcement needed to the under pressure flank.
As soon as the threat had been extinguished, Cassus paused, breathing deep and flexing the fingers of his right hand to break the sticky seal of drying blood between hand and hilt. He rotated his left arm to ease the stiffening muscles, cramping after the constant strain of wielding his Scutum. Suddenly, he spotted Prydain fighting frantically with Hanzer at the edge of the tree line. Prydain fought with shield and Gladius while Hanzer wielded hand axe and long sword, swinging both alternatively with an aggression borne from ancestral fury. Prydain retreated under the frenzied assault and Cassus started forward to help his comrade.
‘Stand still,’ ordered Remus, who had also noticed the conflict. ‘Leave them be.’
‘He needs our help.’ said Cassus.
‘There are true blood Romans who need our help first,’ snapped Remus, He will have to wait. He wants to be a legionnaire,’ said Remus, Well this is his chance, now rejoin the assault.’
‘But Optio…’
‘Do it!’ shouted Remus, and Julius led the ten men including Cassus back to the main fight. As soon as they were gone, Remus turned to watch Prydain and Hanzer fighting furiously at the forest edge. Within moments they disappeared into the undergrowth, and, after a moment’s pause, he too, turned to rejoin the main battle.
Severus’s distinctive voice resounded over the battlefield.
‘They’re turning,’ he shouted, ‘Rear ranks launch Pila, front ranks hold.’ The advance stopped dead in their tracks as the last of the Pila flew over their heads, their lethal points thudding sickeningly in to the retreating warrior’s backs. ‘Advance!’ screamed Severus one more time, ‘No prisoners!’
With a renewed roar, the disciplined Century charged after the panicking warriors, striking them down with impunity. Even when some held up their arms in fear and begged for mercy, they found their pleas met with Gladius and Pugio. The slaughter finally stopped at the edge of the forest as any survivors sought refuge in its welcoming density.
Initial cheering was rapidly replaced with silence as the realisation finally dawned on the trainee’s that it was over, and many slumped to the floor in relief whilst others stood rooted to the spot, their brains struggling to make sense of the carnage all around them. One or two cried quietly, while others shouted and danced in absolute delight. Everyone reacted differently and Severus wasted no time in regaining order within the shattered Century.
‘Optio,’ he called, ‘Take ten men and retrieve the dead. You men there,’ he continued, ‘Gather the water skins, fill them up at the stream and share them out. The rest of you, I want any unused Pila collected. Form a defensive circle. This may not yet be over.’
Julius approached Cassus.
‘Are you hurt?’ he queried.
‘Nothing serious,’ said Cassus as he tore a strip of linen with his teeth into a makeshift bandage, ‘Have you seen Prydain?’
Julius shook his head.
‘We have patrolled the forest edge and there’s no sign.’
Cassus’s continued wrapping the bandage around the gash in his upper arm.
‘You fought well today, Cassus,’ said Julius, ‘You all did.’
‘How many are lost?’ asked Cassus.
‘Twelve dead, twice as many wounded, and two missing. Both from our Contubernium.’
‘What now?’
‘We will continue to Chabal,’ said Julius. ‘The legion will send out the cavalry to hunt down those who escaped.’
‘Do you think they will find Prydain?’
‘If he is still alive, yes, but I doubt if he is.’
Cassus nodded in acceptance and Julius tied the knot on his bandage before seeking out the other members of his trainee Contubernium. Two hours later the Century formed up again, carrying twenty makeshift stretchers between them, twelve of which carried corpses. The Centurion walked slowly before them.
‘Today you fought well,’ he said, ‘As well as I could have expected from any battle-hardened Century. You listened to my commands and carried out your drills, that is why many of you are still alive. We will take our fallen to Chabal and bury them with full honours. Until then, there is still a job to be done. Many barbarians escaped and are still at large. If they attack again, I expect the same level of professionalism, nothing less. Now, shoulder your kit, pick up your comrades and stay alert. Optio, move them out.’
‘Yes, Severus,’ answered Remus, ‘Century right turn, single time, advaaance!’
The column resumed their initial journey and Cassus took the opportunity to look back one last time at the forest where he last saw Prydain. Despite his initial concerns about Prydain joining the legion, he could not help but feel uneasy about the way he had been abandoned.
The Century marched from the valley, every soldier falling silent as they passed the site of the battle. It was littered with corpses, the remnants of a once proud Germanic clan, left to rot where they fell, their sightless eyes already a beckoning treat for the curious crows that hopped sideways towards the feast.
Cassus wondered if Prydain had suffered the same fate.
Chapter 12
Gwenno woke up on a goose feather mattress and looked around at the opulent surroundings. Thick furs lay both above and beneath her, and a jug of ale stood alongside a plate of fruit and berries on a beautifully crafted table beside the bed. Flowers adorned the walls and a small fire shared its welcoming glow from the central hearth. She had arrived in the village the night before, and, after a particularly rough crossing of the strait, had fallen onto the offered bed, too exhausted to eat or drink.
She sat up, leaning on one elbow and looked across towards a young girl tending the fire. Gwenno made to stand up, but, realizing she was naked, pulled a fur around her body to cover her modesty. Her stirrings attracted the attention of the girl who turned away from the fire to greet her with a beautiful smile.
‘Good morning, miss,’ said the girl, ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Fine, thank you.’
‘Good, are you ready for your wash?’
‘My wash?’
‘Yes, miss, water to wash the sleep from your eyes. You can’t meet the day like that, can you?’
‘Oh I see,’ said Gwenno, ‘How far is the stream?’
‘The stream,’ asked the girl momentaril
y confused, ‘Oh, I see. You don’t need to go to the stream, miss, I’ll have the water brought to you.’ She ran to the doorway, and called out to someone outside. ‘She’s awake, bring the water!’
Gwenno watched in amusement as the pretty girl fussed around the hut.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said eventually, ‘Can we start again, who exactly are you?’
The girl stopped and her hand flew to her mouth.
‘Oh, please forgive me, miss,’ she said, ‘I get so excited when I meet a new acolyte, my mouth gets carried away before my head thinks things through. I’m Willow and I am here to look after you.’
‘Are you a slave?’ asked Gwenno.
‘Oh no, miss, not a slave, more of a servant. That’s it, an important servant for an important person.’ Her face lit up again with her beautiful smile.
‘Water!’ called a male voice from outside the doorway.
‘Leave it there,’ answered Willow, and ran over to the doorway, disappearing for a second before re-entering the hut carrying a copper pot, struggling with the weight, and the need to avoid its hot surface from burning her legs.
‘Here you are, miss,’ she said, ‘Your wash.’
‘It’s hot,’ said Gwenno in surprise, seeing the steam rising from its surface.
‘Of course,’ said Willow, ‘Can’t have you washing in cold water, can we?’
‘No, of course not!’ said Gwenno slowly, though in truth ,on the odd occasion she had grudgingly washed, it had always been in cold water.
‘Can I have some chicken first?’ asked Gwenno, her mouth watering at the sight of the bird roasting on the spit above the fire.
‘Wash first,’ said Willow, ‘Food later.’
‘You sound like my mother,’ laughed Gwenno, but stopped suddenly as she remembered how far away her mother actually was.
‘Oh I hope not,’ laughed Willow, ‘She’s probably a lot older than me. Right let’s get you done.’ She dipped a folded woollen cloth into the hot water, before beckoning Gwenno forward. Gwenno got to her feet, and, holding her fur wrap closed with one hand, held out the other to take the cloth.
‘Oh no, miss,’ said Willow in shock withdrawing the offered cloth, ‘You don’t wash yourself, that’s my job.’
‘Your job?’ laughed Gwenno, ‘I think not Willow, I’m quite capable of washing myself, thank you very much.’
‘But miss, you don’t understand, that’s why I am here, to look after you. Now don’t worry, just step out of that wrap so I can purify your body. No need to be shy, I’ve seen a naked woman before.’
‘I don’t care what you have done before,’ said Gwenno, snatching the cloth from the girls hand with feigned horror, ‘I will wash myself thank you very much!’
Willow looked shocked and hurt.
‘I’m sorry, miss,’ she stuttered, ‘I didn’t mean to offend, it’s just that I might get into trouble for not doing my job.’
‘I am not offended, Willow,’ said Gwenno calmly, ‘It’s just this place. This is all new to me and, well, I’ll tell you what, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Now if you really want to help, while I get washed why don’t you carve me some of that chicken before I die of hunger?’
Willow smiled again.
‘Okay, miss,’ she said, and offered Gwenno the bowl, ‘Just for today, but don’t you go telling on me.’
‘I won’t,’ said Gwenno, ‘Now turn around and I’ll get started.’
‘You’ll need this, miss,’ said Willow and gave her a small jug.
‘What is it?’
‘Soap of course,’ said Willow, ‘Scented with herbs and spices.’
‘Thank you,’ said Gwenno taking the jug hesitatingly, ‘I just rub it on my skin right?’
‘Yes, miss,’ said Willow, ‘Your skin and your hair. It will make you feel as fresh as the first breeze of spring, and when you’re ready to have your back washed just…’
‘Willow!’ chided Gwenno gently, ‘I can manage from here, thank you.’
‘Sorry, miss!’ said Willow and turned away to sort out the food.
Gwenno dipped the cloth into the bowl and added some of the liquid soap before rubbing it over her skin. The unfamiliar hot water and tallow soap, felt luxurious and she forgot about her hunger for ten minutes as she washed herself from head to foot. She lathered up her long blonde hair, stacking it up in small piles on her head as she scrubbed the grime from each portion.
Suddenly she cried out in pain.
‘Aaah, Willow quick, help!’
‘What’s the matter, miss?’ answered the girl in concern, as she ran over.
‘My eyes,’ cried Gwenno, ‘This devil’s potion burns my eyes.’
Willow dipped the bowl into the copper pot, refilling it with clean warm water.
‘Tilt your head back!’ she commanded and poured the fresh water over Gwenno’s face, washing away the burning soap suds, ‘Now, let me finish this.’
‘Willow!’ shouted Gwenno.
‘I’m not taking no for an answer, miss,’ she said, ‘I’ll just do your hair before you burn your eyes out, now bend your head forward.’
Gwenno reluctantly did as she was told and gradually relaxed as she enjoyed the sensation of having her hair washed in hot soapy water for the first time in her life.
Chapter 13
Gwenno walked around the village, arm in arm with Willow, enjoying the morning air. She had been at the village for many months, and had settled into a routine. The morning was her own, and, after breaking her fast, often explored the village or the surrounding forest.
After every midday meal Gwenno and Willow walked together to the grove, a copse of sacred oak trees and met one of the elder Druids for instruction in the ways of the world. Though they were indeed quite old and often white haired, Gwenno soon came to realize, that far from being a group of ancient wizards that lived in caves, the Druids were actually just another tribe encompassing the same values that most other tribes did. Several different clans made up the tribe, and, like all others on the mainland, each supplied warriors to a central armed group to defend the island. These armed volunteers were the Druid warriors, an experienced and brutal unit that carried out the Druid’s every command, the promise of a heavenly afterlife the only payment sought.
They called themselves the servants of the earth, and talked about reincarnation and about the fact that everything around them had spirits. Even the trees, the grass and the rocks had souls according to these strange men, and they showed Gwenno how to meditate in order to converse with their spirits. Gwenno tried and tried but no matter how hard she concentrated, always seemed to fail to make any sort of contact.
‘Not to worry,’ said the kindly man, ‘It will come. The more you learn the easier it will be.’
On other occasions, Gwenno would hide behind the trees and witness the bringing of tribute from the surrounding clans, not just from the island, but from the tribes of the mainland as well. Carts full of wheat, beef or cloth were common gifts, whilst the warrior tribes often sent manacled slaves, for despite their respect for life, it was known that as slaves did not possess souls, their destiny was to serve.
It was one such morning when she was walking back to the village with Willow, when Gwenno broached the subject of her purpose there. A fully armed warrior, walked a hundred metres behind them, one of many whose job was to protect them from harm when they walked out.
‘How big is this island, Willow?’ asked Gwenno, ‘Can we walk around it?’
‘Oh no, miss,’ came the reply, ‘I think it is many days across and besides it is not safe.’
‘How can it not be safe?’ asked Gwenno, ‘It is only populated by the Druids and they went to a lot of trouble to bring me here, why would I be in danger?’
‘Well!’ said Willow, ‘Let’s see. There are wolves and bears and…’
‘Bears!’ interrupted Gwenno in alarm, ‘No one said anything about bears.’
‘Well, I think there are bears,’ giggled Willow,
‘At least that’s what my mother used to say when I was a little girl.’
‘And where is your mother?’ asked Gwenno, ‘I don’t think I’ve met her.’
‘No,’ said Willow sadly, ‘She is not here anymore. She died of the cough when I was in my eighth year.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Gwenno, ‘What of your father?’
‘He drowned when I was a child. His boat capsized in the strait and he was dragged down by the water gods. I never saw him again.’
‘Oh how terrible,’ said Gwenno, ‘So who looks after you now?’
‘No one,’ said Willow, ‘I belong to the elders. My aunt sold me into their service four years ago. She wanted them to take me as an acolyte, but they wouldn’t accept me.’
‘Why not?’ asked Gwenno, ‘You’re very pretty.
Willows eyes dropped and her tone became subdued.
‘Well, I was pretty enough, but I was sort of, you know, not pure!’
‘What do you mean not pure?’ asked Gwenno before she realized. ‘Oh, I see, but I don’t understand, surely you were only a little girl?’
‘It was my uncle,’ said Willow sadly, ‘It wasn’t my fault, miss. He used to sneak to my bed when I was in their hut. He used to say if I made a noise, or tell anyone, he would cast me out to be eaten by bears. So I never did.’
‘How old are you, Willow?’ asked Gwenno.
‘Almost thirteen!’
‘And you have been here for four years?’
‘Yes,’
‘So you must have only been nine when your uncle did those things to you.’
‘Yes, miss.’
‘Oh, Willow,’ said Gwenno, ‘How awful.’
‘My aunty didn’t care though, she still got a good price,’ she said, ‘For even at nine I was very pretty and after she sold me, I was brought here. It’s a very good life. All I do is serve you and….well, other things, and in return I get a warm hut, food and I get to serve you. I am a very, very lucky girl.’