Blood of Rome: Caratacus (The Blood of Rome Chronicles Book 1)
Page 8
“We mean you no harm.” Varro shouted. “If you wish, we will withdraw.” He watched the boy as he walked towards the bushes some thirty paces in front of them and then he was out of sight within the blink of an eye. Varro turned in his saddle to gauge the feeling amongst his men, he saw suspicious, nervous glances still scouring the trees and bushes ahead.
They all knew that a number of things could happen next and at any moment and with such speed that they may not be able to do anything about it. The position they were in allowed for a safe distance from every weapon known to the Britons except the bow and that weapon was fast and not defendable if used by a good bowman. Varro clicked his tongue quietly and Staro slowly backed up, movement that was mirrored by the other horses.
Everything seemed to slow and a strange quiet descended over the group as the Romans continued to move slowly backwards. It was disturbed by whispered mumbling somewhere through the trees in front of them.
“Easy lads,” Veranius almost whispered, “we don’t won’t to fuck this up and end up like that poor little bastard last night, easy does it, no stupid moves eh?”
Suddenly there was movement and it came from all around them. As one, their swords were drawn iron scraping against their sheaths as the soldiers prepared to defend themselves from the unseen force that was descending on them from all around them. Their spathas drawn and ready for action if required, still they backed up.
Varro glanced quickly backwards and saw that the path behind them was still open. He knew that he could give the order and within the time it took an arrow to reach them they would be literally out of the woods and free.
“Stop Roman!”
The order he knew was directed at him and not his group as a whole, it was the same female voice as before. As he again looked forward at moving branches to the front of their position, he saw a shape begin to emerge followed by another smaller figure.
“I am known as Brenna Roman. We are grateful for you returning our young man, you will not be harmed here, you are safe.”
The woman standing before him was petite and dressed in colourful tribal clothing. She wore leggings that were green and yellow criss-crossed, her top a light brown. Uncovered athletic brown arms were adorned with golden torques above her elbows and above the biceps as well as one thick piece around her neck.
“You have returned Junium to us.” She glanced down at the boy. “So you are regarded as friends wherever your home lies, unlike the people that took him. He has told me what happened, you saved his life at the risk of your own, please come now. We will give you food and water.” She turned with the boy and began to walk away, the soldiers didn’t move and looked towards Varro.
“I’m sure if they’d wanted us dead, we probably already would be. Come on let’s see what a Britons hospitality is like.” He said. They dismounted and followed Brenna.
A short time later they came across a large clearing where pigs and sheep were kept in pens and dogs roamed freely outside. The locals stopped their work and play as Brenna and her party approached. Some had been attending to rows of plants, some tending to their animals and some were practising with bows away to the side of the settlement, men and women alike. The expressions on the faces of the locals were a mixture of surprise, shock and disbelief. They had clearly never seen men like these before, even their horses were strange compared to the Britons who’s own animals were grazing on land in a fenced off area. It wasn’t a scene they had suspected to see as it was far more civilised and organised than they were led to expect in Britannia.
“Put your horses with ours Roman, they will be safe, you have my word.” Brenna said. Varro thought for a moment, he could either do as she suggested or they could tie their horses up where they could get to them quickly. It was a decisive moment but he couldn’t risk dying because of his misguided trust of this woman.
“We’ll leave them here for now.” He said tying Staro to the fencing corralling the locals horses in. Staro was interestedly watching the horses in the paddock whose curiosity got the better of them as they came over to see their new guests. Varro sheathing his sword looked about at his surroundings noting the chariots at the far side of the roundhouses. They resembled pictures he had seen and drawings of chariots used by the eastern tribes of his own country but were sleeker.
“Come, come.” Brenna said as she led them to the centre of the village. Feeling a little more at ease but still alert and suspicious, the soldiers followed. The Briton had long dark brown straight hair, its sheen bright in the mid-day sun. She led them to the village centre where they were met by a large impressive brute of a man. The boy ran to him, wrapping his arms around his neck as the man bent to pick him up smiling and clearly relieved.
“This is Tevelgus my brother.” Brenna announced and father to Junuim.” Tevelgus spoke to Brenna who in turn translated his words. “Tevelgus says you are welcome here and will be safe as a reward for saving his son.” Varro saw for the first time that Brenna’s eyes were of the darkest green, the sun enhancing them and that she was quite strikingly beautiful.
“Thank you. We have come in peace to these lands in order to provide knowledge of the greater world and our empire.” Varro said to Brenna.
“We have heard of your great empire Roman and of the lands that have fallen to it because they would not kneel. We have little interest of such things and merely wish to live peacefully, working our land and raising our children.” She turned to her brother, “Tevelgus can speak your words but does not trust you, so I will tell you his meaning until he does.”
Tevelgus spoke again with Brenna translating. “He says that some of the villages have sworn to band together with Togodumnus and Caratacus to push your army back into the sea.”
Varro looked at the big man giving away nothing. Tevelgus was wearing similar clothing to Brenna, with no weapons apparent. His hair was shoulder length and covered in what Varro assumed was lime. A large moustache was also limed and extended just to the edges of Tevelgus’ large head. His bare arms were ripped with muscles and easily comparable to those of Varro. He indicated for the Romans to sit on some cut down tree trunks, rudimentary seating was levelled off at the top.
Tevelgus shouted something to another Briton who quickly ran to do his bidding. Brenna explained that he had asked that ale be brought for them the soldiers looked at each other.
“What is ale?” Asked Marcus.
“Ale, you do not have ale in your great and mighty empire?”
Varro spoke, “It’s their version of wine Marcus only it’s made from barley and hops not grape. It has the same effect however and sometimes is a lot stronger, so be careful with the amount you drink.” Marcus smiled as the other Briton re-appeared carrying large wooden pots, he gave them to the seated group, Veranius eyed the brew handed to him suspiciously.
“Here.” Brenna said, offering her pot for his, “take mine.”
He looked at Varro who nodded his agreement. Marcus took the drink, gave it a sniff of approval and took a swig, his eyebrows raised as he swallowed the liquid.
“Mm this ale is quite good, try it!”
They all tried the ale for themselves, to a man they smiled their agreement with Marcus and watched astonished as Brenna drained her own and asked for more.
Brenna explained to her guests that although they in their village respected the sun, the sky, the trees and the water, they did not worship it in the same way as their neighbours and they didn’t sacrifice people in order to try to ensure them. They believed in spirits and a god but one, not many. She knew the Romans had lots of gods and their people prayed to whichever one they thought would provide what they required at the time of asking. Varro was coming to the conclusion that her people were quite enlightened and not the backward cave dwelling savages they were led to believe they would find.
Tevelgus was a great warrior who had become the village leader after a successful challenge to the previous chief who, the Romans were surprised to find was still alive and l
iving amongst the group.
“We don’t live like animals and fight for the right to lead, we moved on from that some time ago.” Tevelgus explained through Brenna. “We are judged by our peers,” he indicated the village around them, “and they decide the victor.”
Varro and his men were getting a taste for the strong ale as the shadows began to draw longer along the floor around them.
“Can we stay here tonight Brenna? Me and my men are weary and could do with a good night’s sleep and your brew is too hard to resist. I would like to take this opportunity also to learn more about your life here.” Varro asked Brenna.
“Of course, you are welcome, soon we will be having food,” she indicated to a large boar that was being led to an area away from the others, “so you can relax, eat, drink and sleep. We will forever be grateful for you for saving and returning the boy to us. It’s the least we can do.”
The soldiers, with the help of the ale, were properly relaxed now and Brenna explained that she had been told of the foreign language Latin from the early attempts by Caesars forces to invade the country some decades before. She had learnt it from her father who had had some involvement with the Romans at the time.
As Brenna continued to tell Varro and his men about her life there, he realised just how distinctly attracted he was to her. He watched the movement of her lips as she spoke, her eyes he was sure could see into his soul and know his every desire. He tried to shake the feelings believing it was the influence of the ale but it was to no avail, there was no doubting his desire, he wanted her.
With the pig slaughtered and prepared, its rich meat was now roasting on the spit some feet away. The smell of fresh food with the ale and the company they were in almost helped the Romans forget that they were in a hostile land. Any thought of harm coming to them was forgotten and for the first time since setting foot in Britannia, they felt safe.
“So what do your men call you Roman?” Brenna asked.
“My name is Varro. I’m from the south east of my homeland and grew up by the warm sea. I’ve been in the service of my country for five years and in that time have attained the rank of centurion.” He indicated to the small purple stripes on his white tunic. “This is my second in command.” He indicated to the Optio then introduced the others in the group. “Our function is to ride ahead of our legions and make contact with the local population.”
“And to survey what’s ahead of your generals and their spears I assume.” Brenna asked.
“As I said,” he replied smiling, “to make contact with the population.” He replied guardedly. “You have many different tribes in your land and a rich history of warrior codes.”
“You are referring to the repulsion of your Great Caesar I assume? That was a long time ago but the tribes came together and worked as one. It was not all war though Varro. Contacts were made and people from both sides moved to the other countries in an exchange of ideas and cultures. Sadly not everyone was glad to receive your legions and many died on both sides.”
Varro thought before responding, “Rome does not seek to crush new cultures Brenna but to bring them into the empire. Client kingdoms are established, trade routes, learning, both and all grow richer from the union.”
“But doesn’t your emperor seek to ravage our natural wealth and resources and in some cases also put into slavery some of our people.” Brenna asked already knowing the answer.
“You seem to already know much which surprises me. Don’t think me wrong, I refer to your isolation here and yet you’re aware of some of the things across the sea and in the greater world beyond. If Rome chose to merely enslave and rob other civilisations and put the people there into slavery, then neither I nor my men would serve her. It would be corrupt and rotten.”
“Mm so you are a good man serving a good leader with many soldiers and men to persuade these other peoples. You are on a quest to change the known world for the better even if they prefer to live in wooden roundhouses like this.” She said gesturing.
Varro laughed, “The subject is as vast as it is deep and that’s precisely why I’m a simple soldier. I prefer my horse, my sword and the company of my men to the deceit of some but not all senators and their like are corrupt.”
Brenna looked at Staro, “I see that even your horses are big and strong.” Varro looked over and saw that his horse and the others men’s had eaten the grass around them at their feet.
“I’d like to take up your invitation for our horses to graze with yours if it still stands?” He asked.
“Why of course, come with me.” Varro following her signalled for the others to remain where they were, Brenna stroked Staro on his flanks and the animal seemed to instantly warm to her.
“Here you go big handsome boy.” She said untying him and walking him to the gate. She removed his saddle and bridle, putting them onto the fence and opened the gate. She touched his neck and the animal nudged her with his nose, his dark black eyes looking into hers. Varro was standing close to Brenna and thought he saw a connection between her and Staro.
“He doesn’t usually let people he doesn’t know or trust, get that close to him, you’ve a way with animals then?” He said. She laughed, “A bit like his owner I would say Varro.”
He frowned, “Well Brenna, I have, since I have been here witnessed an innocent boy being burnt alive and others try to kill me and my men.”
She smiled, “I don’t mean anything by it Varro.” She touched his face as she had his horse her palm was warm and gentle. She turned breaking the moment.
“In you go.” She said to the other horses. “Here’s a friend for you all, be nice to him.” She said as the local horses came over to see who had joined them. After releasing the other animals Varro and Brenna returned to the others where a roaring fire was now raging in front of them as the shadows grew long. Tevelgus handed them both pots of ale each and they sat down. Another female appeared and offered them food, roasted pork. She was joined by others who brought more food and ale.
“I want to thank you for your generous hospitality Brenna.” She raised a hand cutting him off. “You owe us nothing, you returned the boy who is the son of my brother for that I owe you.” She smiled warmly and Varro felt a connection between them that he hadn’t experienced with another woman for a long time. He had been involved with Lucerne when he was a soldier based in Rome for nearly two years. He was part of the cities home legion after first joining the army and had met her serving wine in a tavern. Although not a whore who would prostitute herself to men, many considered her chosen trade as near as anyone could get. Lucerne had ambitions however, and the lowly grade of a soldier and his pay turned out to be little enough reward for her bed. Brenna seemed to have far more substance about her and was not blonde as Lucerne had been which he always found to be a plus. That Varro found, attractive in itself but there was more to this Briton than he would have imagined he would find or had expected to on this large and mysterious island.
As the night wore on and the sun went down, more locals joined them at the feast. They all seemed happy to see the soldiers and were even happier when it was explained that they had saved Junium from a horrible death. The men were relaxed so much so that they had even removed their armour and their swords and were happy to sit and talk wearing just their tunics albeit through Brenna. Full bellies, an alternative to wine and a warm welcome was exactly the opposite of what any of them had ever imagined would greet them in Britannia but here it was.
Later with darkness complete overhead, the only light being that of the fire, shadows danced across the faces of those sat around the flames. Varro could feel the full effects of the brew and now felt totally relaxed. Brenna was sitting as close to him as she could get and he noticed that every now and again, she would touch his arm or his thigh as they spoke, laughing and talking about how different their cultures were. He wasn’t too surprised when she asked smiling, “Would you like to come for a walk? We have a beautiful lake nearby and the water would be really ref
reshing after such a warm day.”
Briefly he looked at his men who were either engaged in broken conversations with other Britons, pointing and learning words; or they just were content to drink more ale around the fire.
“Why not?” He said taking her offered hand to help him up. They walked towards the nearby trees through the clearing, the night air cooler without the warmth of the fire near them but welcoming after the heat of the flames.
“So tell me Roman,” Brenna asked still holding his hand and leading him down a worn path, “do you have a woman waiting for you in Rome?”
“No nothing like that but I’m not from Rome, I’m from a place called Rhegium in the south and no, I don’t have a woman waiting there either.”
“Good.” Was her one word reply as they left the woods and came to a clearing, water sparkling before them in a huge expanse of the lake she had mentioned earlier. She motioned for him to stand still and walked a few paces and then turned. He stood watching as she untied the rope belt from around her waist and grinning removed her top. Her body was tanned brown by the sun and for the first time Varro realised that she had generous and sensual breasts above a trim waist, her nipples were welcoming and erect.
She smiled at him as she grabbed the thin string that held her breeches up and she pulled gently as they fell to her ankles. She was naked underneath and had athletic legs with feminine defined muscles, developed he presumed from hunting and running, formed erotically under her skin, He felt himself began to tingle.
“Come Varro, you can’t swim with your clothes on, unless of course you are too shy?” Without another word and with Brenna watching him intently, he removed his tunic. His muscles rippled as he moved and she clearly liked what she saw. Slightly embarrassed he said, “So what does your name mean Brenna? I’m told nothing is named without reason here is that correct?”