by John Salter
Sometime later when darkness had fallen and they were some distance from the place of torture, Brenna reminded the two soldiers not to speak, not to say a word as they had done so far. They hadn’t uttered a sentence since their release so severe was the shock of the incident and Brenna didn’t want anything that may be taken the wrong way, to be overheard by any listening ears. Varro now dared to believe they would live through this horror, although he felt really guilty because his friend had died so appallingly. The image of the whore cutting into him kept returning no matter what he tried to do to rid himself of the memory.
Brenna had taken his life but had she done so in pity or to reinforce the trust of the others? Were they now being led to a worse fate? He didn’t know and from his current position, tied on the horses, he didn’t have any other choice than to go along with whatever Brenna planned.
They were in a group of about twenty Britons, some of whom he recognised from the night at Brenna’s settlement but none gave a clue as to the outcome of this journey. After a bone jarring ride and when they were far away from the other Britons, Brenna said something to the others in the group and they came to a halt.
“You were lucky we found you when we did.” Tevelgus said dismounting his horse carrying his axe. “They were planning on skinning you both alive and wearing your flesh in battle.”
Varro stared at the brother of Brenna in shock. “How did you find us? How did you make them release us?” He asked.
“We found you by the will of your own gods Varro,” Brenna said getting off her own horse, “we very nearly didn’t find you at all, at the last turn of the river, we were going to go in the opposite direction. Then we heard shouting, their joy at your torture, it brought us to you. Tevelgus is right about them skinning you but first you would have begged for death. That woman’s man was killed by your army she is left to look after three children alone.”
“You killed Veranius.” He said looking into her eyes, the coldness he saw in her was still present.
“Would you have preferred that he died slowly of his wounds, ruined by that woman’s knife?” She looked at him with eyebrows raised.
“He could not have lived with such injuries and even if your gods had let him, what would he have been? She would have cut more flesh from his body and then when there was nothing left to mutilate, it would have been your turn or your friend here.” She pointed.
“Have you ever seen a person skinned when they still live Varro? It isn’t something I would wish on my worst enemy.”
Varro didn’t answer, he couldn’t. He knew she was right. Veranius was dead and had been sent to his death in a most vile and corrupt way and there was nothing he could have done to change it. He would though he vowed if given the opportunity, take revenge on those responsible.
“Why did that thing listen to you back there? She was about to kill Decimus and me as well. I can’t believe she allowed you to stop it, why?” He asked.
Tevelgus who was gathering firewood nearby answered the question. “If they had not listened to their rightful heir, they would have been tied to the trees in your place Varro. They would have suffered an even worse fate believe me.” He threw two pairs of rough material trousers at the two soldiers he had pulled from a bag on his horse.
Varro looked at Brenna, who stared back at him raising an eyebrow. “Your soldiers massacred thousands of our people, not just my own but others from different tribes fighting under the banner of the Catuvellauni. You cannot expect them to not take their revenge.”
“Wait, wait I’m confused, you’re an heir to a tribe?” Said Varro, his face was lined in anguish and confusion as he paced between the horses, realising he was still naked, he pulled on the rough pants quickly.
“So why have you helped us? You could have let them kill us right then and there.” He paused, confused.
“You’re a Princess then?” He repeated, “I knew there was something about you.” He almost smiled, but the situation didn’t allow it. “You can help put an end to this then, you can stop the killing.”
“Princess?” Brenna said, “I don’t know this word. My people are warriors, if they are not fighting amongst themselves they are fighting with their neighbours, if they are not fighting with their neighbours they will fight with family. Now you have come from across the great water from Gaul, they will fight you as they have united, and intend to push you back into the water as they did before.”
“Before, do you mean all those years ago when Caesar marched his legions across your land?” Varro asked.
“Yes when your greatest ever warrior was defeated and sent home, then as now, the tribes are uniting. Caratacus and his brother Togodumnus are intending to defeat the Romans as the Britons did before. Then your Caesar brought a great army contained in over eight hundred vessels to our shores. He had great success but was eventually stopped, made to retreat and returned empty handed to Rome through Gaul. Roman heads decorated the villages for decades, did you know that?
Weapons were displayed as battle honours. He came with many, many men, over forty thousand warriors who raped and burned our houses but for the first time here they tasted a great defeat and faced even more warriors, better warriors and warriors who were prepared to die for their land and families. Now your great Vespasian has brought even more men maybe thousands more to our shores, our spies tell us and even so success is not guaranteed.” She paused letting her words sink in.
Varro sat on a fallen log. “So I ask again, if you believe that Caratacus will do the same, why did you help us when you could have let us die back there?”
She watched as her brother gathered more wood for the fire. “We have to somehow stop this spread of violence if we as a people are ever going to progress. I have heard tell of your huge settlements made of stone, teachings by Greeks, buildings with pools of warm water in them, houses with warmth in the dark of winter, water flowing from rivers and mountain streams to your cities on great stone structures and a council that rules the whole empire. It is clear you are more aware of the world in which we live and so can help my people achieve that too.”
Varro looked up, “So why don’t you order them to put down their weapons, return to their villages, their settlements and it will all stop if you do, you will lose many more thousands of lives if they continue to fight. This time Rome will not turn around and go home, the emperor Claudius wants a triumph, and Britannia will be the victory that gives him that triumph. He has said that he will personally set foot on your soil when that victory is complete, it will be a great honour for your people as well as my own.”
Her stare hardened again, “You see Varro that’s where I become confused, why would such an enlightened people want more? Why do you think that it would be an honour for us to have your Emperor here? Why do you want to enslave our people, take our gold and leave your home to achieve that? There is one thing here for your soldiers and that’s death, nothing more, nothing less. The tribes will not allow you to walk in welcomed with open arms. I have to,” she looked at Tevelgus pausing, “we have to do what we can to prevent bloodshed from both sides. Don’t you think it’s worth it Varro?”
Varro looked at Brenna and for the first time saw the woman he had been with just a few nights before as she really was, a caring loving, intelligent leader and a beautiful woman. A memory of her warm skin and touch made him flush, “I’m just a soldier, you are asking the wrong person. I just follow the orders my General gives me. I am nothing more than an extension of his words, one of his many swords.”
Brenna smiled at him warming his heart, “If you were simply a tool of your magnificent General Varro, I would not have risked my life and that of my brother to save you. My people would have tied us to trees next to you if they had known of our intentions today, leaders or not.”
“So what did you say to that whore who killed my friend in such a dishonourable and barbaric way?”
“I told them that you would be the highlight of the festivities tonight and t
hat you and your friend Decimus here would pay dearly for the massacre your General created. If I had said anything less they wouldn’t have hesitated in killing you both immediately I’m sure.” She touched his leg reassuringly. Tevelgus had managed to light the fire and warm flames began to take away the nights chill.
“I can’t get the image of what she did to Veranius out of my head.” Varro said holding his head in his hands, “He didn’t deserve to die like that, no-none deserves to die like that.” He looked at Decimus who was clearly having the same thoughts.
“Nobody deserves to die like that not even a pig, you are right.” Brenna replied. “But you have come from a different land and you don’t understand our ways or customs. Our men fight with long swords and spears they do not hide behind shields or cover themselves in armour. They could but they believe it is more honourable to fight like true warriors not cowering behind shields. Only some high born cover themselves in such armour and use shields but that is because of their importance to their people.”
He looked at her staring into her dark eyes, “I can assure you we do not hide behind shields because we are cowardly. We have come here to conquer and to do that we use the best tactics, weapons and equipment we have available. It would be pure stupidity to fight in the way your people do. There is no honour in that, throwing your best warriors onto spears, where is the sense?” Varro responded, seeing that he had struck a chord with her and she didn’t like it. “Anyway, I’m not here to discuss tactics with you. If you’re opposed to Rome, why did you save us?”
“Varro, if my people can live in peace, are not abused as slaves or taken from our land, why should I resist? Sadly I cannot stop nor will I stop those who believe you are wrong to come here, to impose your will. I know that if we are left in peace and become part of your great empire, we will flourish and grow, we would become great allies to Rome.
The Emperor has already told us that we will become client kingdoms, which means we will still rule our people but will be overseen by the Empire. This is not a bad thing because it will in time bring peace and prosperity to my people but first we have to go through all this.” She emphasised her point by indicating with a wave of her arm.
Varro thought about her words, “So no matter what happens you win, I mean you with the way you think about all of this. If your tribes push us into the sea again, you retain your rule, if Rome wins, you become client kingdoms and so you will be happy?”
“What would you do in my place Varro? If you ruled this land or part of this land, would you fight or allow the invaders to have their way if they promised peace and legitimate rule?” She asked.
“I don’t know but what I do know is that we are where we are and we are who we are. Our destinies are decided by others and I am merely a soldier playing my part. That is all I can do for now and all I will do until a better opportunity presents itself or I complete my service.”
“Twenty five years is a long time Varro,” He raised an eyebrow, clearly she knew quite a lot about a soldier’s life, she continued, “by that time maybe we will know who has won the fight for my land but I doubt it. In the meantime we have to live as best as we can.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently taking him by surprise. He returned the kiss briefly before the image of Veranius blood spattered body entered his mind’s eye again and the horrific death he had suffered.
“I want the woman that killed Veranius,” he said, “I want to take her life and make her suffer before she goes from this world.”
“Shhhh.” She tried to calm him. “Tevelgus will prepare food and tomorrow you can return to your army if you wish, then you can find her and take her life.”
They ate their food in near silence, pork cooked over the fire. It tasted good and was washed down by some brew the Britons had brought with them. Varro was grateful to Brenna as was Decimus especially considering the alternative. Both of them could have been dead when the first stars appeared in the night’s sky or worse, cut to pieces and still breathing. Their bodies cut, torn and broken and probably either thrown to the dogs or burned.
As he tried to sleep that night, wrapped in a rough blanket near the fire, images of the day kept returning to him. He could feel the ropes cutting into his wrists and the restraints around his lower legs. That was nothing however, compared to the death that his friend had suffered. They had all known the risks they were taking before they had even set foot on the ships to come to this strange land but nothing in previous campaigns had prepared him for the torture that day.
Varro didn’t know what disturbed him more, what had happened to his friend or what would have happened to he and Decimus had Brenna and Tevelgus not rescued them. He had felt that there was something special about Brenna but would never have guessed that she was a leader of her people. As he lay there staring up at the sky, he started to feel the signs of tiredness as his eyes began to feel heavy and for the first time he thought that he would sleep that night.
Lucius and Marcus had watched helplessly as their comrades were dragged through a jeering crowd. They knew they were so close to being with them when the ambush was sprung but had just escaped. They had ridden like demons, only slowing down when they realised they weren’t being followed. Catching their breath and after letting horses rest, they had skirted back and round to the ambush point. Following a track up a slope, they could hear the cheers followed by screams of joy from the Britons celebrating the capture of the three men. Fifty paces from the top of an outcrop they tied their horses to branches and slowly edged forward, the noise below getting louder.
From the vantage point they saw the three soldiers kicked and punched to the ground, stripped of their armour and clothing and dragged to a small clearing. A local chieftain pushed himself through the gathered throng and shouted orders then retreated as did the other males, leaving the females with the soldiers.
“What the fuck are those whores doing? What should we do Lucius, we can’t just leave them.” Marcus whispered edging closer to the lip of the outcrop. Lucius looked down at the scene below and then back at Marcus, “And what should we do Marcus? What would you have us do? We barely escaped with our lives ourselves. There are two of us and there are probably hundreds of them, we wouldn’t stand a chance, they’d rip us apart. The best thing we can do is get back to the Legion and report this as soon as possible, get help.”
However as they continued to watch the developing scene play out, their friends were stripped naked and backed up to three trees where their hands were tied behind their backs and their feet at ground level. A woman stepped forward shrieking and shouting, motioning to the heavens with her arms outstretched. Marcus could see that she held a knife as she approached Varro. If Marcus had a bow, he could have taken her down from here. He estimated they were only two hundred paces from the men now helpless below. He didn’t want to watch but he didn’t want to turn his back on the three men either. He clutched his hands repeatedly sweat pouring from his forehead and almost every pore of his body.
“Come on Marcus, I can’t watch this.” Lucius said getting to his feet.
“I’m not leaving them. They might just tie them up for the night and that would give us a chance to get down there and release them.” Marcus said unsheathing his spatha, it wasn’t of any practical purpose but it made him feel a little more secure. Lucius walked back to the horses as Marcus continued watching. As the horror continued in the small clearing he saw that the men had left the three soldiers to the fate of the women totally and knew that that was probably a bad thing. Standing behind the females they stood watching, still and impassive as the women built to frenzy in front of them goading and jeering each other on, eventually some sat down as if they were about to watch a normal form of entertainment.
Marcus watched as his friends were tormented. The leading female approached Veranius and gestured at him and the others. Winding up the women around her, she built them into a crescendo and finally slowly thrust the knife into his stomach. The gathered women went wi
ld, he saw Varro furiously struggling to free himself but to no avail. Marcus desperately wanted to close his eyes but he watched disbelievingly as the woman cut the genitals from Veranius’s ravaged body and threw them into a fire.
His head jerked back automatically in response as he saw his friends own head fall forward and hang limply, gouts of blood flowing and spurting from his wounds spasmodically. Marcus finally closed his eyes and wished and prayed for them all to be somewhere else other than this barbaric land. He swore vengeance on the woman and many others and if it were physically possible, he would help make it happen.
Then the woman approached Varro, Marcus saw that there was a disturbance from somewhere towards the back of the baying mob. He could see riders talking to the men, gesturing towards the torture that was taking place. Within seconds the riders had dismounted and were pushing their way through the crowds, seemingly oblivious to their complaints and shouts.
Marcus blinked as he recognised Brenna and Tevelgus.
“Lucius,” he turned to see where he was, speaking in a low voice, “Lucius get your fucking arse here now, its Brenna and Tevelgus.” He got to where Marcus lay just as Varro and Decimus were cut free.
“What the fuck happened to Veranius?” He asked.
“That fucking cunny that Tevelgus is talking with cut his fucking balls off after stabbing him, he must be dead now.” He replied.
Lucius gulped down almost choking on his own breath but strained his eyes watching as Brenna walked to Veranius, pushed his unconscious head back and then cut deeply into the artery of his neck.
“Oh my gods that fucking bitch.” He whispered the words out. The two men watched as the surviving Romans were cut free entirely and escorted to horses, bungled up and then rode away.
“Where do you think they’re taking them?” Lucius asked.
“I don’t know but I know one thing,” he replied staring at the torturer, “that fucker won’t ever kill another Roman soldier ever again, come on.”