by John Salter
Client King in waiting he maybe but he reasoned it was better to be a client than a vagabond on the run, with no shelter, food or military force to defend him as he imagined his brother to be. Asiria motioned for him to turn over and he moved onto his back. He looked up at her features and dark skin. She spoke with heavy accented Latin and had come from a land called Parthia far to the east many weeks ride away. She was beautiful and he drank in her body with his eyes enjoying her hands as they caressed his skin. She wore her native clothes that showed her virtually flat stomach and it stirred something primeval inside him.
When he had first been introduced to her by one of the Praetorian Centurions he couldn’t believe his good fortune. She was to be his body slave from that point on, her life his to do with as he wished. She would ensure his bath was ready at the end of a hard day dealing with disputes and land issues concerning his people, she would massage, oil and scent his body and she would provide anything further he required. He had heard of body slaves when he was in Rome but had never expected to have one himself. It was no doubt a benefit of him now being a part of the upper class, a true nobleman. The nearest he had come to experiencing someone like her before was when visiting the many brothels of Rome.
It had always been his ambition above his brothers to rule but not as they had in their limited way. Whilst they were content to hunt and share their time with locals, he had studied. When he had learned all he could about his tribe and their customs and of those around them, he had sought new subjects and places and where better than Rome. His father had allowed him to travel to the great Capital aged just eight where he had seen things he would never have dreamed of before.
From an early age he had studied in their great libraries and read their scrolls and learned Latin unlike either Togodumnus or Caratacus giving him an advantage. So safe and comfortable was the young man in his new surroundings that he had stayed for five years, returning home aged thirteen to a land that had not grown or progressed since his departure. He had made friends in the world’s largest capital and he was now reaping the rewards of his earliest ambitions. He groaned as his new acquisition rubbed his lower stomach and Asiria giggled quietly.
“I’m sorry master,” she began, “I didn’t mean to arouse you.”
She looked down and saw that he was growing hard with pleasure as her hands moved lower still, she smiled. He had experienced many massages in Rome while in exile and knew that the slaves who performed them would do all they could to help their clients to relax. None however shared the beauty of this young woman taken by her homelands victor and chosen to be a body slave.
She turned and picked up the small oil bottle and poured a few drops onto his stiffening shaft. Rubbing it gently he groaned feeling her hands and the heat they generated together with the oils. You fool Adminius he thought to himself smiling more as Asiria parted his legs slightly and gently massaged his aching balls. Just when he thought it couldn’t feel any better she took his taught manhood in her hand and carefully gripped the shaft. He looked into her dark eyes and saw they were intrigued by his swollen member. Slowly at first she let her hand move up and down his shaft hearing him groan with pleasure. He arched his back closing his eyes as the tingling sensation within him grew and her hand moved faster, the oils reacting and warming, her other hand gently rubbing his balls.
“Taste it.” He instructed and she bent over him without hesitating and took his hardness into her mouth, her lips warm and soft. She moved along the length of his aching penis expertly, she clearly knew what she was doing. He knew he wouldn’t last long as her hands and mouth worked their magic. All the stress of the last few days and weeks were forgotten, nothing else mattered except this moment in time. He was right about his longevity and with a loud sigh he let go and almost as quickly fell back onto the bed sighing and smiling.
She smiled back down at him and asked, “Was that correct master?”
He lay back laughing, his shoulders shaking, “Yes Asiria you did very well, very well indeed. I think we will make great friends you and I.”
She asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you my lord?”
He smiled back totally relaxed. “Asiria you could do anything you wanted to do to me but for now I think I should get some sleep. I’ve got a very busy day ahead of me tomorrow but during the night we can have some more time together and I will help you relax.” He touched her between the legs and she giggled.
Turning she gave him a towel as he sat up and then walked to the door of the tent of his sleeping apartment. It may be a temporary structure but it was walled and covered with dyed animal skins it was far more luxurious than anything the locals had seen before. Coloured fresco’s even covered the walls interior here and there just as he had seen in the great buildings of their city. Lighted with candles on iron stands, warmed with a wood burner and guarded from the outside, he smiled hardly able to believe his good luck.
He considered what his own capital should look like. It would have to be something as imposing as the buildings he had lived in whilst in Rome but bigger. Great columns would greet visitors at the front, whilst huge corridors would welcome them inside. He would commission the best fresco artists to decorate the walls and would invite Senators from all over the Empire to witness the magnificence of the new province.
He had no regrets, well maybe one he mused, that he hadn’t gone to Rome and begged Claudius to help him take the crown earlier. Whilst his backward family would have lived in mud huts for an eternity, he had realised his vision and now he could begin work on bringing civilisation to the country of his birth. He could barely wait for the day to dawn in the morning and to see the faces of the people, his people. He would win them over he was sure and if he couldn’t they would rue the day they opposed him.
He tested the bed for firmness with his hand and found it sturdy but pliable. He drank from a goblet tasting the fresh wine he had enjoyed and finished it in one go. He dropped the towel and lay on the bed pulling the covers over him and within no time at all he was asleep. He dreamt of his future, of being a successful member of the Empire. He would recruit soldiers for Rome and make legions of British warriors turning them into auxiliaries. He would introduce farming methods and build villas, temples and worship the gods of Rome and one day he hoped, he would be accepted into the Senate itself. Anything was possible now that he had helped brush aside his backward brothers, the task now was to drag the people into the new world with him.
He didn’t know where he was when he opened his eyes sometime later and sat up suddenly with a start, something had disturbed his sleep. Had something fallen or had Asiria come to help him relax even more? The candles still burned and he realised quickly that he was still inside the massive tent and nothing was untoward, he relaxed and lay back down quickly drifting back to his dreams. Then in his sleepy state he remembered that something had woken him, something deliberate, he remembered what it was, a voice.
Immediately he sat up again blinking his eyes open and there stood at the end of the bed was his brother, Caratacus. He stared in disbelief blinking again, as if he was dreaming, was he dreaming he wondered, he must be surely? He had to be asleep still he thought, his wayward brother was running for his life or so he had been told.
“It’s me brother I’m here, you are not dreaming.” The voice was undeniable and the reality so vivid, it hit him like an axe. Adminius saw him clearly but how was this possible? Caratacus stood before him wearing a Roman toga which just added to his confusion. He spoke, “Don’t let these clothes fool you. I had to wear them in case someone saw me.” He smirked now, a disturbing smile his gaze fixed.
“I wouldn’t have been able to get to see you if I’d worn my own clothes would I?” He turned his head indicating something unseen, “Your friends outside, the large guards would have had my entrails cut out before I took a step further. You and your friends would have seen to that wouldn’t you? No real local is allowed to within a hundred paces of your grand tents.”
He looked around. “So this is what it was all for was it?”
“How did you get in here? If they find you, you’ll be crucified.” He spat back in shock.
Caratacus said, “It’s still just leather and leather cuts quite easily or have you already forgotten?” He produced a dagger from under the toga. Adminius recognised it as their fathers.
“This can all be yours as well brother.” Adminius said trying desperately to change the subject to delay whatever Caratacus had planned. Maybe someone would hear them talking and come to investigate. “We can rule together like one. I’ve many plans and we can rebuild this place for the better. I told you it would happen but you wouldn’t listen. It’s alright though I forgive you, I always did.”
Caratacus could barely hide his hatred for his younger brother and ignored his words. “Do you know how Togodumnus died?” He said abruptly, he raised his eyebrows and walked to the side of the high bed.
“His body was punctured by their swords and spears whilst trying to defend his land, his people and he died in my arms, these arms you see before you.” He held his arms out but Adminius didn’t look at them, he stared at his eyes trying to determine what he intended. He held them out still as if to emphasise the point.
“I was covered in his blood, our father’s blood, blood he gave for his people.” He stared at Adminius his eyes looking right through him as if into his soul.
“I haven’t seen you for year’s brother but surely we can mend our differences now? I told you we couldn’t fight the strength of Rome and I was right see.” He waved his arm at the tented walls.
“Please now at least concede that and let us rejoice together and lead our people. With you at my side they too will see the error of their ways and stop resisting. It can be done, all you have to do is allow it for once in your life have the vision to see what is best.” The terror was evident in his eyes as he saw the cold expression on the face of Caratacus and he began to use his words to try and save himself. He was under no illusion, he barely recognised the barbarian stood over him but he had to play for time. One of the guards was bound to hear their conversation through the thin walls.
“I have no intention of being at your side Adminius. You betrayed our father, our brother and our people and you chose them over us.” He looked to the side of the tent to the unseen Romans elsewhere. “You have aided them and now you return to take a crown that wasn’t yours to take, in a land that is no longer yours to own. Our people know of your betrayal, how long do you think you will live? You killed my father as you killed my brother and there has to be a price to pay for your betrayal and indulgence. You even dress like them and even whore yourself as they do for instant gratification.”
Adminius looked shocked and blushed, “What do you mean by that?”
“I saw you with the Parthian whore.” He paused. “Is that how far you’ve fallen brother, you didn’t even know her did you?”
Adminius said, “Didn’t know her, what have you done, have you hurt her?”
“You shouldn’t concern yourself with such whores but think of your own people, the people you betrayed, the people who lay dead on the battlefields rotting even now as you lay here in a bed of betrayal. The people who tried to protect the capital from you and your kind now litter the plains, woods and forests. It’s too late to worry about her now anyway, her blood is exhausted and her throat open to the world, my world.”
Horror stricken at his brothers words Adminius tried to rise but Caratacus instantly thrust his knife forward in one quick movement before he could react, stabbing his brother in the middle of his chest where his heart lay, he froze, eyes wide as blood bled quickly from the wound.
“You fool, what have you done?” He gasped grabbing at the blade and looking down as the dagger was ripped wide and upwards into his chest cutting bone and internal organs alike. Blood gushed now, out and around the edges of the blade and onto his hands.
Caratacus stared at the man he had grown up with, he didn’t recognise him. He realised he felt nothing for what had just happened. He pulled the dagger free and wiped it and his red hands on the bed sheet and then put it away. He walked quickly and quietly from the room into the next and into the one beyond where the body of the Parthian female lay. He didn’t even look at her as he walked calmly by his movement reflected in her dead dark eyes. He found another toga and replaced the blood stained one he wore.
He went to the rear of the huge multi-roomed structure and found the cut in the leather panel where he had gained entry. He left as easily as he had entered and disappeared into the darkness of familiar pathways between the still standing roundhouses beyond.
Off duty Roman soldiers nodded acknowledging him as he walked calmly from the scene of the murder, he nodded and smiled in response. Finding his horse where he had left it he climbed aboard and looked around one last time. His capital was no longer his own and in no time he wouldn’t recognise it unless he could find enough warriors to follow him again and retake it one day. That however, would have to wait especially with the invaders leader still here on the island somewhere surrounded by his guards, it would be impossible for the time being.
As he took one last final look around he decided to return when Claudius had got back to Rome. For a second he contemplated sacrificing himself in what would be a suicidal attack on the Emperor who was probably asleep after whoring himself as Adminius had somewhere to the south. He thought about finding his column, waiting until the early hours when all but a few guards were asleep. He reasoned that he may even succeed with the help of the gods but would he survive to fight afterwards? In that moment he no longer cared for his own life but then he remembered his family and knew he could not abandon them.
In that instant he decided to leave quietly and vanish into the night westward. The Romans would no doubt blame the death of his brother on the people but they wouldn’t really care and probably wouldn’t even want retribution, they were bound to find another puppet to control as King. Caratacus knew the Romans cared nothing for his countrymen except those who they could sell, enslave and use. He clicked at his horse and walked forward looking around at the place he and his people had called home.
He felt tears well up in his eyes as visions in his head saw his father, mother and family when they were young and happy as the horse carried him along the tracks and towards freedom. Through blurred vision he passed three people and heard his name whispered, it brought him out of his memories. He wiped at his eyes and recognised them their faces not unknown but their names, two men and a woman, the woman amongst them spoke quietly.
“Go safely Caratacus son of Cunobelinus and never stop fighting. Gather our people and fight this disease that stains our land.” She smiled at him and he nodded in response not saying a word and kicked gently at his horse as it sped up into a trot. He would do as her words had said, not because she had recognised him as her rightful King but because that’s what his life was now, a fight against Rome. He rode out through the large gates and wondered if he would ever see them again.
It took a few days for the fallout from the Emperors visit to die down. Plautius and his senior officers were glad to see the back of him truth be told and his Praetorian Guard. They were never well regarded by the men of the legions who saw them as false and aloof second rate soldiers. Most had never actually served in the legions and their officers were all given their posts gratis as they were the sons of Senators. Legionaries were recruited from Rome and served their time there, deployments like the one with Claudius to Britannia were rare.
Gradually the men of Plautius’ army got down to the routine work of establishing a stable settlement and work began within days to transform what was once Camulodunum into a Roman fortress like city. The murder of Adminius went by almost unnoticed which surprised Plautius to a certain extent. They thought that the Britons would blame them for allowing the assassination to occur or would even say that they had done it in order to bring in their own or another governor. When the anno
uncement was made some locals actually cheered, the Britons were a strange lot.
With work on the garrison being carried out, there was still a lot of exploring to be done and Plautius decided upon a three pronged advance into the interior of the country. One Legion he decided would go north, another north west and the final Legion, Vespasian’s Second Augusta, would travel west virtually parallel with the coast. When Varro heard the news he was pleased that he would remain with the Second Augusta as there had been a possibility he would be confined garrison duty. It was also rumoured that west was the direction that Caratacus had gone when he had left with what was left of his war bands.
Local members of the hierarchy were questioned at length about his departure but little was disclosed except to say that he had left to save Camulodunum and its inhabitants from destruction. There were rumours that he had cousins and other family members with the Silures, a tribe far to the west so it was presumed that their region would have been his ultimate destination. The Silures were a large tribe said to be similar to his own and very warlike so it would make sense for him and his remaining followers to go there. There were differing rumours as to how many had gone with him from four thousand to six thousand, one thing was certain and that was the Trinovantes had joined him swelling their numbers considerably.
Plautius issued orders to all the legions to engage Caratacus or any other hostile force wherever they were discovered and at the earliest possible opportunity. Caratacus had to be destroyed, that was the priority and anyone caught bearing arms with him. The population of Camulodunum had as Caratacus had believed, been spared as they had not resisted especially when confronted by the Emperor. Caratacus could expect no such mercy however, when the legions eventually caught up with him, they intended to bring about his bloody end. He was known to have taken the cream of the warriors from both the Catuvellauni and the Trinovantes with him, estimated to be some many thousands strong, possibly over ten thousand all told.
