Out of the corner of his eye, Caratacus noticed Clud and Donn nodding heads as they grabbed the hilt of their swords.
“My men and I are hungry and thirsty—”
Caratacus cut off Adminios. “You can eat later!” Caratacus motioned to the captain of Cunobelinos’s retainers and back to his older brother. “Follow him, he’ll show you where to stand near Da.”
“I don’t need his lackey to lead me, I know my way.” Adminios turned and staggered through the entrance, followed by his arch-Druid and warriors.
Caratacus nodded toward the captain, who entered the adjacent side door. Earlier, Caratacus had given him instructions to alert his and the king’s men, who were guarding the interior, once Adminios had arrived.
The older brother and his retinue walked into the huge meeting room with its lofty interior.
Caratacus and Tog waited until Adminios and his party had entered before following them inside.
Smoke spiraled upward from the center hearth and seeped through the closely packed, thatch roof. Thicker than a man’s thigh and soaring up nearly five times a warrior’s height, pillars supported the heavy, roof beams. Tapestries with elaborately worked designs hung on the walls. Smells of unwashed bodies permeated the room.
Knee-high, wicker screen dividers, spaced far apart at the hall’s back, narrowed into a “V” shape. They were like spokes of a wheel funneling to a hub, the center being the fire pit, which circled the hall. A member of the High Council, a clan chieftain, and his retinue occupied each section with Fergus ap Roycal and his people in the section closest to the king.
Cunobelinos sat in his Roman curule chair upon a low, wooden dais several feet above the floor, Ibor at his side. Behind him and on both sides of the dais were four of his armed retainers. Caratacus and Tog stood in front of their father between one set of dividers with Clud, Donn, and a dozen warriors, who had entered earlier. Adminios and his group gathered in the section to the left.
Although Caratacus had persuaded the chieftains of the council to back him, he still had reservations they might change their minds. I pray the gods they are still behind me. They could lose their collective nerve.
Dressed in his ceremonial long, white tunic with a gold, quarter-moon disk, a symbol of his authority, hanging down on the chest, Arch-Druid Ibor stepped forward. In the pulsating torch light, he formally opened the session. “In the name of our high king, Cunobelinos, I welcome all who are present for the king’s session. In the name of the gods, whom I dare not mention. In the name of Camulos the sacred god who watches over his namesake, our fortress Camulodunum, may the decisions rendered on issues brought before the Council today be just and wise. This session is now open.”
Caratacus stepped one pace toward the king. He spoke to the Council regarding the proposed alliance with the Durotrigians and its importance to Cunobelinos and Adminios’s kingdoms.
A murmur rumbled through the clan groups behind him.
“If Verica is scheming with the Romans to invade our lands,” Caratacus continued, “then we need all the allies we can muster.” He paused and glanced at Adminios and back to the council. “The Durotrigians, like the Cantiaci, are primarily a seafaring people. They have few warriors compared to most of the southern tribes and would face the brunt of any invasion by the Romans. We must defend ourselves by defending them.”
Adminios hiccupped and snorted. “Where did you get this information? I’ve received no word.”
“We have,” Cunobelinos said in a lucid moment. The chieftains turned in his direction as if surprised. The old king raised a hand and gestured toward Adminios. “Your brother doesn’t lie.”
With a slight bow, Caratacus acknowledged his father and focused on Adminios. “Your kingdom is directly in their path, Brother. I urge you to agree to the alliance so we can send representatives to the Durotrigians to finalize the plan.”
Adminios leveled his bloodshot eyes in a fixed stare on Caratacus. “Then why haven’t I heard anything?”
“Haven’t you?” Caratacus challenged. “Either your spies are inept or they are lying to you.”
“The fact remains,” Fergus ap Roycal spoke as he eyed Adminios, “we need your agreement to the proposal. We must defend all our kingdoms.”
Ten of the twelve chieftains voiced their agreement. Only gap-toothed Cador and broken-nosed Melwas disagreed. Their protestations were overridden by the councilors. A loud murmur of concurrence erupted throughout the crowded hall.
Adminios huffed, and his mouth crimped in annoyance. “All right, I’ll agree to it, but I still believe it’s a waste of time—there won’t be any invasion.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Fergus ap Roycal said with an edge of impatience in his voice.
“Then the majority are in agreement?” Cunobelinos asked in a weak voice. He squirmed in his chair, his head drooped, eyes going blank.
“Aye!” the members of the High Council shouted in agreement.
Caratacus and Fergus ap Roycal turned their heads in the direction of the High King. Caratacus glanced sidelong at Fergus ap Roycal and caught a knowing look. We have to move fast if we are to take Adminios by surprise. He nodded to the chieftains on his right as Fergus did the same to the leaders on his left.
“Now, can I leave and get something to eat and drink?” Adminios belched again and turned in the direction of the hall’s main entrance.
“There is another matter that the High Council must address before we adjourn,” Caratacus said.
Ibor raised an eyebrow and looked to Cunobelinos. “My King, do you know what he is talking about?”
“I do.” Cunobelinos’s eyes brightened and he gestured with a veiny hand to Caratacus. “Proceed.”
This is it. Now. Caratacus’s heart hammered and seemed to rise into his throat at the same time his stomach tightened. Outwardly, he showed no sign of fear. He faced Adminios across the wicker divider, narrowed his eyes, raised his arm, and pointed. “Adminios, King of the Cantiaci, and Son of High King Cunobelinos, I hereby accuse you of treason.”
A gasp erupted throughout the chamber.
Adminios flinched, his face and body turned rigid.
“You conspired with the Romans to invade the lands of southern Britannia,” Caratacus continued, “and planned to overthrow the high king. What say you to these charges?”
A sharp intake of breath rippled among the throng. “Traitor!” came shouts from behind Caratacus.
Caratacus glanced about seeing many faces turning hard with anger. They raised their fists. But his father’s hands trembled, his eyes glazed over, and his face resembled a blank page.
Caratacus swallowed and turned to Adminios. “Let him speak.”
For a moment, Adminios remained speechless. A scorching look crossed his reddening face before he apparently regained his senses. “Who are those who accuse me of dealing with the Romans?”
Adminios’s party murmured words of support.
“Besides myself, I have several witnesses,” Caratacus answered and lowered his arm to his side.
The king’s councilors looked at one another. Their supporters spoke among themselves. One of them waved a hand airily. “Bring on your witnesses!”
“You lie—they lie!” Adminios shouted in a clear voice, as if sobered by the accusations.
“Do I? Do my witnesses lie? I think not.” Caratacus gestured to the members of the Council and then the meeting place entrance. “Even as I speak, the Romans are moving three legions from the River Rhenus in Germania to Gasoricum on the Gallic Coast.”
A roar flashed through the hall like a thunderclap. “Invasion!” someone cried out. “Then we fight!” More shouts of support followed.
A space of about twenty heartbeats passed before the noise in the room subsided.
Adminios shook his head. “What invasion? I know nothing of this.”
“Now who is lying?” Caratacus said. In a slow, deliberate voice he continued, “Your kingdom is on the coast, and my messenger ro
de in this morning with the news.”
Adminios’s eyes searched the room. He seemed to focus on one of his retainers.
Caratacus caught the look and motioned to the king’s men. Two of them rushed toward Adminios’s man and grabbed him before he could resist.
Several of Adminios’s supporters moved towards Caratacus’s guards.
Caratacus raised his hand in his older brother’s direction. “Call off your dogs, Adminios. My warriors and those of the high king outnumber yours. They won’t hesitate to kill yours if they take one more step.”
“Stop!” Adminios roared. Once his men returned to their positions behind him, he turned to Caratacus. “Your charges are lies! I would never betray our people.”
Caratacus barely controlled his rage. “We know the Emperor Caligula is with the Roman Army at Gasoricum on the Gallic Coast. You didn’t warn us. Why?”
Adminios curled his mouth into a sneer. “As king of the Cantiaci I don’t have to answer your questions.”
As his face came alive once again, eyes alert, Cunobelinos said in a low growl, “You will answer your brother’s questions, Adminios.” He raised a hand, curling it into a fist, then lowered it into his lap. “As your king and father who placed you on the Cantiaci throne, I order it.”
Surprised, the vast majority in the hall murmured the king sounded like his old self. They shouted their support for Cunobelinos.
Adminios licked his lips and gulped. “My people told me nothing of this.”
“Oh, you mean to say that Porcius, who has been seen at your court, didn’t say a word?” Caratacus asked in a scathing tone.
“The Roman pig said nothing about an invasion,” Adminios answered.
“Rubbish! You are planning an invasion of our lands with the Romans,” Caratacus said. He twisted his head about, eyes raking the room, locking eyes with one member of the Council at a time, then back to Adminios. “My spies followed one of the Romans seen at your court across the channel through Gaul to the legion camp on the River Rhenus where Roman troops were gathering. Then they shadowed him and two cohorts, advance forces, back to Gasoricum. Soon afterwards, three legions arrived at the same place. Now they are building landing barges for invasion—you deny this?”
“Porcius left my court and traveled to Verica’s lands—he said nothing before leaving about Romans crossing the channel,” Adminios answered through clenched teeth. “Roman merchants come to my court all the time asking for trading agreements. I didn’t conspire with any Roman to invade our lands.”
“It happens that two of my men, dressed as traders, were in your court when you sent the Roman away, the one they followed to Gaul and Germania.” Caratacus turned toward the entrance and back to Adminios. “They are now waiting outside and will testify as to what they observed. Shall I bring them in to bear witness?”
“I know many of your warriors on sight, your spies wouldn’t have fooled me,” Adminios said.
A knowing grin formed on Caratacus’s lips. “Not these, I recruited them after you became king. These men come from the north, the land of the Brigantes, where my consort, Dana, is from. Once I call them forth, you will recognize them as traders that were in your court.”
A ripple of low cries went through the room. “Bring in the witnesses!”
His eyes full of contempt, Adminios searched the hall, his features cloaked in defiance.
“However, before I call the witnesses,” Caratacus said, “I have something to show you, Brother. I’m sure you’ll recognize it.” He pulled from a leather pouch hanging from his waistband the silver, three-headed horse amulet. He turned to the members of the High Council and held it up so they could view it. Then he turned back to Adminios. “This was given to you by Da, do you deny it?”
Adminios froze as he stared at the object. “It’s mine, but … but it was stolen from me.”
From the back of the room someone said loudly, “If it were stolen, then my mum is a virgin.”
A roar of laughter shook the building.
Adminios’s nostrils flared, and he puckered his brows.
Caratacus smiled before he sobered and asked, “When was it stolen?”
Adminios glanced to his retainers who stood about the hall. They were outnumbered by the king’s, Caratacus’s, and Tog’s warriors.
Caratacus turned around and spotted Donn, his father-in-law, who stood quietly behind Caratacus with Tog and Clud. The veteran warrior narrowed his eyes as he placed a calloused hand on the hilt of his sword.
Adminios glanced to his Druid advisor, who nodded, and to Ibor, who hovered by the king. Then back to Caratacus.
“I repeat,” Caratacus said. “When and where did you lose the amulet?”
“Tell him!” Cunobelinos growled.
“I don’t remember,” Adminios answered, his voice little more than a whimper.
“Why didn’t you tell Da?”
Adminios jutted his chin forward. “Why should I? I’m a grown man, I don’t have to tell him anything. Besides, I sent my men out to search, they didn’t find a trace.”
“You said you didn’t remember when or where it happened.”
Adminios’s mouth quivered. “That’s right. What does this have to do with the charges against me?”
“You witnessed an act of human sacrifice and placed a curse on me that included my murder,” Caratacus accused.
A loud gasp echoed through the meeting place followed by cries of, “Traitor!”
“That’s a lie!” Adminios shouted. He looked about and toward his retainers for support.
Caratacus turned to Ibor. “He aided you. This Druid is known for his Roman sympathies.”
Another eruption of voices in the hall mixed with shouts of, “Blasphemy!”
“How dare you accuse me of such a lie?” Ibor protested. He looked to Cunobelinos. “I hate the Romans, they killed my fellow Druids in Gaul.”
“It’s common knowledge that you’re taking bribes from the Roman, Porcius,” Caratacus said.
“Where is your proof?” Ibor motioned about him with a hand. “Bring forth your witnesses to the sacrifice and the false charges of bribery at once!”
“The proof is in my discovery of the amulet that belongs to Adminios. It was buried with the bones of a decapitated body of a woman and her baby. I have witnesses to the discovery.” He motioned to Tog, Clud, Rhian, Dana, and his warriors. “One of your own acolytes, Owen, has offered to testify against you.”
A terrible silence enveloped the room. Ibor twisted his head about as if seeking support for his acts. Eyes filled with contempt stared back at him. For the space of a few heartbeats, he bowed his head before raising it again. He faced Caratacus. “You need not bring forth your witness,” Ibor growled. “I will not lie about my involvement with your son, Adminios.” He pressed his lips together and bowed his head as if in resignation. “I did perform human sacrifice on his behalf.”
A murmur went through the audience in the Great Hall.
“You lie!” Adminios shouted. He looked about the room. “Ibor lies.” Adminios’s voice weakened.
Ibor raised his head, his eyes focused on Adminios. “Do I? I have been working with Porcius and the Romans. I promised them Adminios would be king of these lands.”
“My spies learned the same thing,” Caratacus said. “You were negotiating a favorable trading agreement for Adminios and the Romans.”
Cunobelinos turned and glared at Ibor. “You admit you are negotiating behind our back?” Ibor nodded.
“You were my trusted advisor and friend. Why did you do this?” Cunobelinos asked, his voice filled with disappointment. “Any dealings by Adminios for the Cantiaci are to be tied directly to us, the Catuvellaunii and the Trinovantes, as part of our federation of tribes.”
“Because … because not only would the agreement be favorable to the Romans, but I … I would benefit.”
“Traitor!” Caratacus accused. “You would sell out our people for Roman gold. You are a disgrace to the
people of this land and the Druids.”
“Disgrace! Disgrace!” echoed through the hall.
Havgan stepped forward from behind Caratacus. He raised his hand and silence descended on the gathering. He turned to Ibor. “Why are you admitting to these charges now?”
Ibor’s face clouded. “I can no longer lie. I am old and tired of all this court intrigue.”
“You realize the penalty is banishment?” Havgan asked.
“I know, and I will leave Camulodunum as soon as this meeting ends and journey to the Druid center of learning on the Isle of Mona.”
“Your wait ends now,” Cunobelinos announced. “I hereby banish you from our lands for all time. What the Supreme Druid Council does to you on the Isle of Mona is their business. Get out of my sight!”
The king focused his eyes on Adminios. “My Son, you have brought shame and disgrace to our family and our people. You are no longer fit to be king. I hereby banish you from our lands as well. You are now a man without a tribe and family. Be fortunate we have not sentenced you to death.”
Adminios shook his head. “How could you do this to me, Da? You know exile is worse than any death!”
“You deserve the worst, my Son. Your betrayal of the people—your betrayal of me has broken my heart. Now, leave us!” Cunobelinos’s eyes glazed over, a blank stare crossed his face.
The king’s men roughly grabbed Adminios, and as they were dragging him from the hall, he turned his head and shouted at Caratacus, “This isn’t over. I swear by the gods I dare not name, one day I will use your skull for a drinking cup. This kingdom will be mine!”
Chapter 34
The day following Adminios’s banishment, Caratacus led a band of loyal warriors to Durovernum, capital of the Cantiaci. Word ran ahead that he had expelled his older brother from the kingdom. When Caratacus arrived at the hill fort, he met little resistance from warriors originally pledged to Adminios. Quickly, they swore allegiance to Caratacus’s service when he declared himself king of the Cantiaci.
A week later, when Caratacus returned to Camulodunum, he held a council meeting with fellow chieftains, including Fergus ap Roycal and Havgan, now arch-Druid. They voted unanimously to declare Caratacus king.
The Wolf of Britannia Part I Page 31
