Blood of Rome: Caratacus (The Blood of Rome Chronicles Book 1)

by John Salter

  “In your mind’s eye you can see a wall in front of you. In the wall is a door, a large wooden door, I want you to approach the door and stop beside it.” As he ‘moved’ without walking he saw the door, previously unseen getting closer. It had a large round black handle.

  “Reach out and take the handle and open the door.” Brenna instructed and he did, seeing his arm reach out and his hand take the handle. She saw his expression change slightly as he mentally saw what she was saying.

  “Turn the handle and push the door open slowly and see the steps going down beyond.”

  He could see numerous large sandstone steps through the door, light and sandy in colour, he moved towards them stopping at the top.

  “As you take each step you will go deeper into your relaxed state. Each step will be taken very slowly, there’s no rush. You can’t see what’s below but at the bottom you will find another door set into another wall. This wall surrounds a beautiful garden like the one you told me about from your childhood. Statues of beautiful men and women naked line the path beyond.”

  She was now massaging his lower ribs but he was barely aware of her touch anymore. As she asked him to move, he took a step down and could actually feel the coolness of the stone on his feet, it almost made him shiver briefly. Slowly guiding him down with her voice, he moved lower until eventually he stood below the bottom step. The ground was cooler to the touch of his feet, a worn path maybe. He stood almost floating at the door in the second wall, the air was now colder here and a little shaded. At her prompt he opened the door.

  “The garden is warm and bathed in sunshine, you can feel it warming your skin.” She said as if somehow making it happen. He walked forward, the grass was short and he could see various flowers of many different colours and varieties, reds, yellows, greens, purples and more than he could separate in his mind and be aware of as he tried to take everything in. As he moved forward he saw the statues lining the path in front of him, worn from feet treading the way before.

  The marble slabs shone and reflected the sun brightly back into his eyes, the fact that his physical eyes weren’t able to actually see what his other senses were aware of seemed irrelevant now.

  “Move along the path.” She instructed from somewhere distant. He barely heard the voice now and was totally unaware of the contact of her hands on his body. He was elsewhere submerged in another plain, another place. He took in the intricate details of the statues, the stone masons that worked them must have been masters of their craft. As he got to somewhere near the middle of the path he saw water beyond, a lake maybe. Tied up on the shore were small boats dug out from tree trunks, they were long and thin.

  “Continue slowly forward and choose a boat to get to the other side.” He heard her whisper.

  Unquestioning, without thought or reason why, he reached the boats and chose which one would take him across the water.

  “On the far shore amongst the trees you will see various paths, choose a path and make your way towards it and go into the woods beyond.”

  As he walked he reached out with his arm feeling a female statue. His hand caressed her smooth cool flat stomach, he resisted the temptation to cup her pert beautiful breast. Walking slowly past he looked down at the boats, choosing the one he had seen near the middle, he untied the rope securing it to a stump. He looked around taking in the serenity of the moment. Without further thought he pushed the boat further out into the crystal clear lake feeling the cold water surround his legs and then climbed aboard, it wobbled but didn’t threaten to tip over. Taking a small oar he found in the base he rowed away from the shore slowly.

  On the other side trees of different types studded the shore in dense formations, the only breaks he could see were paths leading into the woods to places unknown. He didn’t feel any trepidation or fear because for some reason everything felt calm, warm and as it should be, almost as if he had come home or if as if he had been here before.

  Ten paces from the bank he heard a whispered voice, “Choose a path, think carefully and take it. At the other side of the trees you will find a previous life, one you have lived before.”

  Had he been awake and conscious he would have dismissed the idea and laughed it off as complete bunkum but here in this place it felt normal, he didn’t know why, in fact he didn’t even wonder, he just did as the voice told him and rowed slowly for the shore on the other side of the water. Soon he felt the bottom of the boat crunch gently against stones as he reached the small pebbled beach.

  Climbing out he headed for the path he had already decided he would take and walked into the shade of the tall trees. It only seemed like he had been on the small narrow path for seconds before he was somehow suddenly elsewhere. No longer in the place he had seen from the water.

  “Go to three moments in your former life, three important times that helped mould that life and the way you are in the present.” A voice instructed and instantly he was looking down on himself or someone similar, who looked different but somehow was him, a former life? Maybe, but was that possible?

  He watched as the young legionnaire finished his training, dressed in the armour of Caesars Legions nearly a century before, the celebrations and wine, he and his friends enjoyed. The voice asked questions, where, when, why and then asked him to move forward. The image moved onto the next point, it showed him again but older maybe by a few years possibly as many as ten, wearing the uniform of an Optio. He was on a green hillside standing next to a Centurion whose face was familiar.

  A gentle breeze brushed his face, arms and legs and he saw the horse hair of the Centurions helmet plume move slightly with the air. Behind them stood rows of Roman soldiers, quietly waiting, somewhere behind horns and trumpets blared as orders were given, it resembled the scene before a battle.

  As he watched from somewhere above, apprehension gripped the faces of those on the hillside. Slowly and quietly at first another sound came to his ears but from the opposite direction down the incline of the hill, he recognised it as men moving in large numbers towards his position ascending the slope to face the gathered Roman lines. The sound of wheels or more specifically chariots joined the cacophony from somewhere unseen.

  The tips of banners came into view depicting animals crudely drawn onto material fluttering in the slight breeze, on his side the eagle standard waited shining in the bright sunlight. He realised he was watching a scene from Briton but from decades before during one of Caesars forays into the country. A battle was about to be fought a pivotal battle he suspected, the final battle before Caesar ordered a retreat back to the sea and to Gaul. The Britons had been prepared on this occasion and had amassed thousands of warriors to defy the armour clad legions of Rome.

  Horses whinnied from their lines, an order was given to advance towards the enemy still unseen except for their banners as the front ranks began to march slowly forward and the flats of swords began to slam into the sides of shields.

  “Move forward now.” The distant voice almost whispered like a memory as if inside his head and the image changed. The man he recognised as himself was lying wounded on a field surrounded by the dead and dying. He felt sharp pains in his leg and upper arm. Looking at the image he saw a deep puncture wound in his upper left thigh and a large jagged wound to his left arm just above the bicep, blood flowed from both injuries.

  A medicus ran from one man to another desperately trying to staunch the blood flow sustained by men from his Legion. Some he stopped at briefly and gave aid and then ran to another where he could save a life but some he ran on from barely stopping, their lives already expired.

  “Is this how you pass from this life?” The voice asked.

  “Yes.” He heard himself reply in a hushed tone. “The leg wound wouldn’t stop bleeding, a vein was damaged inside the flesh it bled inside and stopped my heart from beating.”

  “And what did you learn from this life?”

  “Discipline honour and duty.” He whispered again accepting that what he had witnessed
was somehow real or had been real and that he had lived before. Everything seemed to make sense to him now, he was a warrior that was his calling that was what he had been before, that’s what he was now and that’s what he would be again. Brenna calmly called him from where he had been, slowly and carefully, aware that it would be damaging to pull him too abruptly from his past. Eventually he blinked open his eyes suddenly aware of his physicality, his body and where he was, he smiled up at Brenna’s beautiful face. Clenching his fists and moving his toes, he felt as if he had been asleep for days.

  “That was amazing.” He said attempting to rise from the ground but she held him down, “Stay still for a moment and relax.”

  He suddenly remembered the wounds and quickly looked at his arm and leg but there was nothing there, he frowned.

  “How is this possible?” He looked at her with a frown over his face.

  She smiled, “It’s part of who we all are. I wanted to show you this,” she gestured to the surrounding area, “everything is a part of everything else, the trees, the lakes, the animals and the people. Like all things the gods provide this and they watch. We will all live many lives and as long as we learn from each of them and grow we will live again.”

  “Is this how soothsayers see the future?” He asked.

  “I cannot say but like some soothsayers of our people mine too sacrifice to see what the future holds but it’s not always certain. Things can change the future especially where people have changed their ways or have chosen to take a different path. It’s like being in a strong river, different currents can take you different ways and those currents can determine where you will finish your journey.”

  “I feel strangely more alive than ever before.” He remarked.

  “That is usual especially when someone experiences this for the first time, elation, happiness and a renewed excitement and sense of life, it rejuvenates the physical body. It comes from knowing there is more, that there is something almighty out there even though we can’t always see it. Our people have always known this that is what some of our people have in common. A few tribes do not have druidic teaching but most do but even they can’t agree on all manner of things such as human sacrifice. I would never take part in such barbaric practise but I wouldn’t even take an animal’s life for such reasons although some believe it appeases the gods.

  All life is sacred and I would never take one for such a purpose only for food as the gods have provided them. The wooden cages where the young are sacrificed are vile in the extreme but some of the more desperate and power hungry druids use them to control their people with fear.”

  A realisation suddenly dawned on Varro and he sat up concern on his face.

  “Are you a druid Brenna?”

  She stared into his eyes unblinking. “I am what I am and I mean no harm to anyone or anything. Like you I’m on a journey, a journey as old as time itself. I know this word you use and if that’s what you choose to call me then yes I am a druid but that is no reason for you to be concerned about me or my intentions towards you. I have nothing for you but love. You used the word soothsayer before and now you use the word druid. I call myself neither, I am just me” She smiled as her hand moved lower and he relaxed a little lying down.

  As she continued talking her hand caressed his stomach and he felt himself getting aroused.

  “There are some who pervert the teachings for their own purposes but there are also some who will do anything to fight against the army that you are a part of. To them its normal its natural.” She smiled down at him. “It’s like making love, like you and I making love.”

  He returned the smile as she reached down and took hold of his hard erection massaging it slowly with her hand. He moaned quietly arching his back as she manoeuvred herself to sit by his side. His hand stroked her back and slowly moved to her breast caressing a nipple. She leaned forward and licked at his shaft before taking its swollen end into her mouth. He felt her gently suck the end, warm and wet as he grew harder, tingling in anticipation. He was lost in the moment and watched as she moved and mounted him and guided herself onto him. She was beautiful, her body perfect, so sensual, he didn’t want this to end. All thoughts of duty or the army and druids vanished from his mind. For now nothing else mattered except this moment and their bodies moving together as one.

  Later as they lay together wrapped around each other

  they kissed passionately. “Can you see a time when people don’t have to fight?” She asked.

  He looked into her eyes, “Maybe but not in our time, or not in this time I should say.” Smiling he kissed her again.

  Some miles away to the west Togodumnus and Caratacus sat in the morning sun with their tribal leaders gathered around a small fire. They ate fresh fish caught earlier and cooked on the same fire and drank strong alcoholic milk made from the herd. The mood was sombre because they had lost a lot of warriors and had seen no sign that they could stop the invader spreading through the land.

  “We need to strike them hard and stop the advance.” Said Tomgundum, a young warrior who had fought the enemy many times before and killed more than a dozen himself, or so he claimed.

  Togodumnus looked at him, “And my young warrior just how do you propose we do this? Whilst we have the advantage of numbers and the knowledge of the ground they have their weapons, how they fight and the armour they hide behind. These men live this way, they don’t work the farms and land like most of us. They fight and invade lands and no place has stopped them so far. We have to use our natural advantages or they will take this land as they have others, enslave our women and imprison us all. We did it before against their best General and we can do it again and reclaim the land that they now pollute.”

  There was agreement around the fire. “So what we are to do?” Asked another voice, Togodumnus looked into the eyes of those around him. Sat amongst the group was a man whose head was hooded, his body covered in a long dark grey robe, greyer even than his long straggly beard. He had sat listening to the group as they discussed the situation, he had eaten but not drank the brew. He was a druid from the far western island of Mona where many of the spiritual men and some women were trained and lived before teaching others across the lands. He like all of his kind was highly respected and revered.

  “If I may,” he asked his voice strange to those around him, he talked differently his accent almost rhythmic and guttural. Caratacus nodded his permission for the man to speak.

  “These Romans are many and they fight in an army although not large compared to the warriors we have, you can call to your banner, they are well equipped and trained in warfare. Even as we speak now, more are coming to our shores. My scouts tell me there are at least three landing points around our east and south coasts. Those already on the beaches are fortifying their position right now while we sit here.” Anxiety spread from face to face around him.

  “Our lands face their greatest threat, the greatest threat they have ever faced. There are druids who tell me their Emperor sends many Legions to our people. In Gaul they say that over forty thousand trained men will soon be on our soil. Our enemy also has an advantage we haven’t considered as well as those that we have.” Confused faces looked at the druid as he stood and began to pace taking in their expressions.

  “When these men came before a long time ago, certain peoples welcomed them and even drew up treaties, alliances, paid for peace with gold, women and children and animals so in awe were they of the invader and their power. Some even sent tribal envoys with them back to their great stone city. These Romans made friends of tribes and even gave some sanctuary across the water. Even your father Cunobelinus worked with them and we had peace. Just two years ago before this Claudius came to power, your great tribe traded with Rome and they with you. That has all gone now because certain Britons have turned their backs on their own because of their own greed and have run to Claudius and lied. We cannot trust all those who we should be able to rely on.

  He looked around those sat
by the fire, a new fear written over their faces. Tribal conflict had always been a way of life, it was something that they were used to and could live with, or die with as the case maybe. No one tribe now had the power to defeat another entirely after many years of war, lesser tribal lands had been swallowed up and so eventually those that survived came to agreements and fractious peace remained. None would encroach onto another’s land unless under a banner of peace and then only for talks with other tribal leaders, They would respect their neighbours livestock, they would trade and even have marriages for the sake of peace and stability. It didn’t always work but that was what the leaders had agreed to do.

  The peace was sometimes fraught however, and every now and again an unforeseen crisis would happen and deaths would occur but conflicts were kept to a minimum. The coming of the Romans under Caesar had changed all that and certain tribes had taken advantage of it by siding with the foreign invader instead of their neighbours. For years when the wars outcome in Gaul was uncertain one tribe in particular kept a low profile but now rumours were rife that they had once again sided with the Romans and now it seemed so had others. Some who had left when the enemy were sent back into the sea were said to have returned and were able to speak the strange language of the invader. They were said to wear the clothes of the enemy and the adornments around their wrists and had promised the same for those others who had been left behind.

  They spoke of the places they had seen, great settlements made of rock, shaped into blocks that towered taller than the largest tree and made into great buildings, images of the Roman leaders carved from mountains and of their gods of which there were many, buildings many levels high, plentiful water supplies from rivers and lakes many miles away carried on high man made rivers of stone, schooling of the stars and many other things the Britons hadn’t even imagined.