by Kevin Ashman
‘This is too far a stretch for my imagination,’ said Cassus, ‘The coincidence is too great.’
Prydain pointed at the old man waiting patiently on his horse.
‘That man there,’ he said, ‘Is the chief of the Silures. They do not recognise the rule of Caratacus as king of Britannia, for they have hunted these lands long before the Catuvellauni even had a name. Even the name of these islands descends from Silures culture and has been changed over the years from its original.’
‘This was the gift of my mother Cassus,’ he continued, ‘As the chief’s first child, only she was allowed to use the ancient name of this country for her son. The name Britannia is taken from the Silures original. Its true name is Prydain!’
Chapter 44
Centurion Remus was getting impatient at the wait, and, deciding to take matters into his own hands, walked forward to join the two men. Four armed Silures warriors stopped him in his tracks.
‘What do you want, Remus?’ called Prydain.
‘I command these men,’ said Remus indicating the last of the cohort, ‘If there are any decisions to be made regarding their future then those decisions are mine to make.’
Prydain considered before answering.
‘Drop your Gladius and draw near,’ he said.
Remus did as he was asked and submitted to a search by one of the warriors before advancing to stand alongside Cassus.
‘So, finally gone native have you, slave-boy,’ he sneered, ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’
‘You would do well to hold your taunts, Remus,’ said Prydain, ‘Your life lies in my hands.’
‘I speak as I like to a slave,’ said Remus.
‘I am no slave,’ said Prydain.
‘You were born to a slave,’ said Remus, ‘And does not a rat give birth to a rat? You were a slave at birth and will be a slave when you die.’
‘I don’t understand you,’ said Prydain, ‘All through my time with the legion you made my life hell, Why is that? Even if I was once a slave, there must be thousands of other freedmen serving in Rome’s legion. Surely you do not persecute them as much as you do I.’
‘You are right,’ said Remus, ‘There are many, and I despise them all for soiling the true blood of the legions, but you, Prydain, you are something special. You are a blight upon this earth and a stain on my very soul.’
Cassus looked on in confusion, unable to comprehend why there was so much venom in Remus’s voice.
‘Is this what all this is about?’ asked Prydain, ‘All this persecution, all these deaths, just because I am a freedman in the ranks of Rome?’
Remus tilted back his head and laughed briefly.
‘Oh no Prydain, this is much more personal. I was brought up in a time when Romans were Romans, barbarians were barbarians and slaves were slaves. Everyone knew their place. It was a good time. Gladiators, slaves, life, death, all in our hands and for a young man like me at the time, life was intoxicating. Wine, gambling, fighting, and, as for the women, oh I had my choice of them. Rich girls, poor girls,’ he paused and looked at Prydain, ‘Slave girls.’
‘You surprise me, Remus,’ said Prydain, ‘You, who have such a low opinion of slaves, soiling yourself with our women.’
‘Oh no,’ said Remus, ‘I have no problem abusing slave girls, and when I grew bored with them I could always earn myself a few coins by selling them as entertainment in the arena.’
Prydain’s face hardened as he realised what Remus was getting at, his mind racing as he watched the Centurion undo the chinstrap of the bronze helmet crested with the magnificent red horse hair plume.
‘You see,’ continued Remus, ‘You and I have a lot in common slave-boy. We grew up not far from each other, albeit twenty years apart. Even before you were born I was fornicating amongst the slave girls. In fact, I remember one in particular, pretty little thing she was. Oh how we used that girl. Passed her around the garrison like a wash towel, and when we got bored of her, sent her to the arena.‘
Cassus’s eyes widened as he realised the implications and stared at Prydain.
‘There must have been thousands of slave women who were sent to the arena’s’ said Prydain, ‘It means nothing. ‘
‘Perhaps so,’ said Remus ‘But there was something else, a pendant similar to the one you now wear. Hang on,’ he said screwing up his eyes as if in recognition, ‘I would say exactly the same.’
‘You lie,’ said Prydain, his anger rising, ‘Anyone could make up this story.’
‘Tell me,’ said Remus, ‘How many of these pendants are there, and, more importantly, how would I know you got it from your mother?’
Silence fell and the two men stared at each other.
‘Don’t listen to him Prydain,’’ said Cassus, ‘It could have been anyone.’
Prydain didn’t take his eyes of the smirking Centurion, who was enjoying the man’s discomfort. Remus removed his helmet and stared up at the sky for a few seconds before he answered.
‘But there was only one pendant wasn’t there, slave-boy?’ he said, ‘I’m sure your new found friends over there explained the importance of that pathetic necklace. Oh how we laughed when she cried that she was some sort of princess and showed us that pathetic symbol as evidence. In fact, we found it so funny we allowed her to keep it, after all, it was something to hold on to as we screwed her from behind.’
‘It was you,’ said Prydain, ‘You sent my mother to her death. You sent her to be slaughtered in the name of entertainment.’
‘Oh don’t worry,’ continued Remus,’ I didn’t lose out on the deal, If I recall I had six copper coins for her. They paid good money for women and children in the arenas back then. It made for a fascinating spectacle to watch their deaths, especially scum babies and stinking barbarian whores.’
Remus’s deliberate goading had the desired effect and a roaring Prydain hurled himself at Remus, his face contorted with rage, exactly as Remus had hoped. The Centurion threw himself to one side while at the same time swinging his helmet up to smash Prydain across the side of the head. The shock of the impact and his own momentum resulted in Prydain sprawling face down into the dirt and before he could re-gather his senses, Remus dived onto his back and jerked back the warriors head to expose his neck. Remus pulled out a hidden Pugio from his tunic and held the blade against Prydain’s throat.
‘Have you learnt nothing, slave boy? It was easier this time than the first day I met you. Remember that day slave-boy, when I put you in your place? It was then that I first recognised the pendant. That was the day that you brought back memories that I wanted to forget and since then I knew there would be a reckoning?’
‘Remus leave him,’ shouted Cassus, ‘If you kill him we will all die.’
‘We are already dead,’ barked Remus, ‘But before I go I will feel his blood running through my fingers.’
‘You see, slave-boy,’ he said, returning his attention to Prydain, ‘There was one more thing I didn’t tell you. It is true I used your mother and yes, it was I who sent her to the arena but it wasn’t immediately. After the bitch had gone and got herself pregnant she was no use to me and as soon as I found out, I sold her on to a whorehouse and as far as I was concerned, she no longer existed.’
‘But it was after she whelped her brat the rumours started,’ he continued, ‘The sneers from those I grew up with. All the sidelong glances that spoke silently of their condemnation and eventually I went to the whorehouse to see for myself. To my disgust the rumours were right. The hair colour was right, the nose was the same but most importantly the eyes said it all. You see slave-boy, you are not the only one to have the devil’s stare. I may have had one smashed out in Africa, but unlike this brown one that will soon witness your death, that one was blue. You have the same eyes as your father slave-boy, the same eyes as me!’
Silence fell between the three men, eventually broken by Cassus.
‘You are his father!’ he gasped, ‘Surely that is impossible,’ yet even as he sp
oke he could see the resemblance and wondered how he hadn’t noticed before. ‘Remus for god’s sake stop this,’ he said, ‘Even if this is true, you can’t kill your own son!’
‘Son of my loins only, not of my heart,’ shouted Remus, He should have died in the arena, or better still, never have been born. Because of him I left my family in disgrace and spent all my life fighting in godforsaken lands in the name of Rome. If it wasn’t for him I would have lived my life in luxury. Now it is payback time.’
He spun Prydain around to face the Silures, kneeling up and yanking his son’s bleeding head back to expose his throat’
‘I said goodbye to my family twenty years ago,’ he snarled, ‘Now say goodbye to yours!’
‘Noooo!’ screamed Gwenno but before the sound had died, a metallic thud rang out and Remus’s body shuddered with an unexpected impact. He looked shocked, but still held his knife against Prydain’s throat, even though a black arrow head protruded from his chest armour.
He looked over at Cassus and shuddered again as a second arrow smashed into his back, yet still the blade lay against his son’s neck.
Cassus shook his head slowly from side to side.
‘Don’t do it,’ he whispered.
Remus released his grip and staggered to his feet, still grasping the knife.
Prydain scrambled forward away from him and stood up before turning to face his would be killer. The two men stared at each other before Prydain broke the silence.
‘You are my father?’ he asked still shocked at the news.
A trickle of blood ran from Remus’s mouth.
‘So now you know the truth slave-boy,’ gasped Remus, ‘The burden that the gods placed upon me. To have been be cast out by my fellows and to sire a coward.’ He stumbled in pain and Prydain stepped forward to catch him before he fell.
Prydain held the wounded man in his arms as the news sunk in and even though he hated the thought, it all made sense. Remus opened his eyes and spoke weakly.
‘So what happens now slave-boy?’ he whispered, ‘How ends this tragedy?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Prydain, ‘It is too much to take in.’
‘Then prove me wrong,’ gasped Remus, ‘Show me you are not a coward, prove to me you are truly my son.’ He pressed something into Prydain’s hand.
‘I need to know one thing,’ whispered Prydain, ‘What you just said about my mother, is that the way it really was?’
‘Every word,’ said Remus weakly.
Tears ran freely down Prydain’s face as he answered.
‘Then I will do as you ask,’ he said, ‘But not for you….for her!’
Prydain plunged the Pugio Remus had placed in his hand, deep into his father’s heart and as the light faded in the Centurion’s eyes his lips silently formed his son’s name. ‘Prydain!’
Across the clearing Gwydion lowered Angau, the third arrow no longer needed.
Chapter 45
The funeral pyres were still burning three days later when Prydain approached the closely guarded Roman’s that still survived. Cassus watched him draw near and when a Silures warrior indicated he should follow him, left his comrades to meet with Prydain.
‘Well,’ said Cassus, ‘Has our fate been decided?’
‘It has,’ said Prydain.
‘Spit it out then,’ said Cassus, ‘I tire of the waiting.’
‘I have managed to secure your release,’ said Prydain, ‘You will have one day to make good your escape before they pursue you. If you are caught, you will be killed.’
‘Are we to be given horses?’ asked Cassus
‘You misunderstand,’ answered Prydain, ‘You alone will be allowed to leave.’
‘Just me, but what will become of the rest of the men?’
‘Do not ask what you do not want to hear,’ said Prydain.
‘You can’t just murder fifty men,’ hissed Cassus, ‘They were only doing what they were ordered to do. You are a soldier, Prydain, for the god’s sake can’t you get them to change their minds?’
‘It was all I could do to get them to spare you,’ said Prydain, ‘There is nothing more I can do.’
‘They were your comrades,’ spat Cassus, ‘Does that not mean anything to you?’
‘Be grateful you are to live,’ answered Prydain, ‘Go back to Rome, Cassus, leave this place to those who belong here. Caratacus is to join with the Silures and take the fight to the Romans. Get out while you still can.’
‘You can’t do this, Prydain,’ shouted Cassus, ‘For Jupiter’s sake man, you are a Roman.’
‘No, Cassus,’ answered Prydain, ‘I am not a Roman, I am a Briton.’
He held out his horses reins and after a moment’s pause, Cassus mounted and rode a few paces before spinning around to face Prydain one last time.
‘I will not be caught, Prydain,’ he said, ‘Neither will I forget this day. Were it not for my desire for revenge I would die alongside my comrades but you should know this. I will ride and I will survive. My future lies not back in Rome but here in this country, serving my Emperor. I will continue to take my place in the ranks of the legions and continue to kill barbarians, taking strength from the knowledge that every one that falls beneath my blade, brings the day closer when we will meet again. For meet again we will Prydain, before the gods I swear it. I will not rest until the day when my Gladius takes the head from your shoulders in payment for your part in this.’
‘So be it,’ said Prydain.
Cassus stared in loathing at his boyhood friend before spinning the horse around, and, after riding through the assembled warriors, headed back towards where he knew the legions of Rome were encamped far to the east. The lines of Silures closed behind him and before he had rode a few hundred yards the sounds of shouting and screaming echoed once again around the valley, as the Silures closed in on the surrounded Romans to carry out their final act of savagery.
Cassus dug his heels into the flanks of the horse and galloped hard away from the slaughter, his eyes full of tears for the first time in his life, but, as he crested the first hill, he pulled up and stared at something that chilled him to the bone. High on the next hill stood another cross, but unlike any that Cassus had ever seen.
First of all it was obviously carved from a single slab of stone and stood thrice the height of the tallest man. Secondly, though the basic cruciform shape was there, the junction of upright and crossbar was intersected by an integral stone circle. For a second, Cassus struggled to remember where he had seen the design before but suddenly it came back to him. It was the design on Prydain’s leather amulet. The sign of the Silures, the Celtic cross.
He pushed the thought from his mind as he neared the shrine and paused for the last time to take in the grisly scene. Attached to the cross was another crucified man but this time the victim was obviously Roman as evidenced by the red cape that still hung from his shoulders. Unlike any other crucifixion, the man had been hung upside down, his limbs spread eagled across the central circle on the cross, and, despite the empty eye sockets that had already received the attention of the crows, Cassus recognised the corpse of Tribune Mateus.
‘You will pay for this, Prydain,’ swore Cassus under his breath, ‘If it is the last thing I do, I swear there will be retribution.’ He spurred his horse and rode east, back to the legions of Rome.
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Chapter 46
Gwydion was putting up the tent they still had since their time with Caratacus while Gwenno was starting a fire to cook the small deer Gwydion had brought down with his bow. They were in a stream fed clearing in a small glade deep within the forest, many miles away from the scene of the battle three days earlier. A rider approached and Cassus looked for his sword before Gwenno put his mind to rest.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, ‘It’s Prydain.’
‘Hail, Gwydion,’ called Prydain.
‘A Roman greeting,’ said Gwydion, ‘You surprise me.’
Prydain laughed at his own mistake.
; ‘Some habits die hard,’ he said, ‘We are ready to leave for the homes of the Silures in the south. Are you sure you will not come?’
‘We are sure,’ said Gwydion, ‘We have seen enough blood to last a dozen lifetimes, It is time for some peace and quiet.’
‘I understand,’ said Prydain, ‘I wish you were coming with me but at least you should be safe enough here, we are far enough south to deter anyone else coming after you.’
‘What about you, Prydain?’ asked Gwenno, ‘What will you do?’
‘I will go with Caratacus,’ he answered ‘And meet my fate alongside my brethren.’
‘Yes, I heard about that,’ said Gwydion, ‘Though I still can’t believe you are alive, I thought you had died weeks ago when you disappeared from the woods. It’s a shame you had to kill two of them before you realised they were your own people.’
‘Killed two?’ quizzed Prydain, ‘I don’t understand.’
‘The two men you killed back in the forest when you were first captured,’ said Gwydion, ‘I found their bodies.’
’Oh them,’ answered Prydain, ‘They weren’t Silures.’
‘Who were they then,’ asked Gwenno’
‘Druids,’ answered Prydain, ‘The two they sent after you and the only two who knew where you are.’
‘Then we are safe?’ asked Gwenno.
‘Should be!’ said Prydain, ‘You won’t be troubled by the Silures and apparently the nearby clans are friendly.’ He looked around. ‘The forest is full of deer, and the rivers are full of fish. With a bit of hard work a man could raise a strong family around here,’ he said
‘I am counting on it,’ said Gwydion putting his arm around Gwenno.
‘What about your clan back in the north,’ asked Prydain, ‘Don’t you have some unfinished business there.’
‘I do,’ said Gwydion, ‘But it can wait. There is more important business here.’
‘Then I will leave you in peace,’ said Prydain, ‘Good luck both, I will call in as the chance arises.’
