‘The Sacramentum is an oath of honour,’ shouted Cassus.
‘It was once,’ said Prydain, ‘now it is no more than a promise to slaughter thousands of innocents so one man can amass more wealth than he could spend in a thousand lifetimes. What honour is there in that?’
‘You play with words, Prydain,’ said Cassus, ‘but only delay the inevitable.’
‘Then let’s do this,’ said Prydain, ‘for I tire of you justifying that which cannot be defended.’
----
Both men circled each other slowly with swords drawn, Cassus in his full Lorica Segmentata armour and Prydain in his leather tunic. Ordinarily Cassus would be confident of the outcome and he knew his skills far outweighed those of Prydain. His time in the Exploratores had seen to that and he could probably better Prydain with his bare hands. But something was wrong. Prydain’s words had struck a chord and he found his mind racing as he relived them over and over again in his mind. Yes the Emperor was getting richer but that was how it was. Soldiers fought, enemies died and Emperors got rich. It was how it had always been since the days of the republic.
Cassus himself had killed more men than he could remember and knew he could despatch Prydain with ease, yet when the anticipated lunge came, he simply deflected it and stepped to one side.
Prydain spun around and resumed the assault, relying on speed and strength to break through the Centurion’s defence but every blow was deflected easily, without as much as a single counter. Over and over again Prydain returned to the attack and the forest rang with the clash of metal on metal, as both men matched each other in skill and strength. Finally Cassus took the initiative and stepped forward into the attack. The speed of his sword was astonishing and Prydain realised Cassus had been toying with him. Cassus forced Prydain backward and despite Prydain’s desperate defence, Cassus knocked the sword from his hand with ease. Prydain backed up against a tree and Cassus leapt forward to place the point of his sword against Prydain’s throat.
Prydain gasped for breath and stared into his executioners eyes, realising there was nothing he could do. He was about to die.
Cassus breathed heavily as he watched a tiny trickle of blood run down Prydain’s neck from the point of the Gladius. For half a minute nobody moved and both men stared deep into each other’s eyes
‘Do it,’ said Prydain.
‘I take no orders from a traitor,’ growled Cassus.
‘You owe me nothing,’ said Prydain. ‘The fight was fair. End this madness once and for all.’
After a few more moments, Cassus stepped back and lowered his sword.
‘I have what I want, Prydain,’ he said.
Prydain swallowed hard.
‘I don’t understand,’ he said.
‘I could have killed you any time, Prydain but held back the killing blow. Whether you believe me or not, I am a man of honour and your earlier words have merit. Despite our differences there was a time when I called you brother. Those times may be long in the past but a man’s worth is only the sum of his days. Killing you would be no more than killing the memories we once shared and proves nothing. Giving you your life proves my humanity. I am a Roman Legionary and as such have become a sword of Rome but let it not be said that Rome owns my very soul. I am the master of my own destiny, Prydain and today I chose compassion.’
Before Prydain could speak, a scream echoed around the clearing and Cassus’s whole body arched backward in pain as he fell to his knees with a sword sticking out of his side. Behind him, the battered face of Taliesin grimaced with rage as he withdrew the Gladius from Cassus’s back.
‘Taliesin, no,’ screamed Prydain and lunged forward to stop him striking a second blow.
‘What are you doing?’ shouted Taliesin. ‘He was going to kill you.’
‘No,’ said Prydain. ‘The fight was done. It is over.’
‘I came back, Prydain,’ said Taliesin. ‘The women hide in the forests and I used the horse to return.’
‘And I am grateful,’ said Prydain, ‘but now is not the time.’ He reached down and cradled his old friend in his arms.
‘Not the outcome I expected, Prydain,’ gasped Cassus. ‘You have prevailed.’
‘You don’t escape that easily,’ said Prydain. ‘The wound has missed your heart. There is yet a chance you will live.’
‘I seek no chances, Prydain. You were right. I tire of all the killing and am desperate for the peace that death brings. Leave me here to meet my gods.’
‘No,’ said Prydain, ‘once more there is a debt between us and we always pay our way.’
‘Your life is my gift,’ said Cassus, ‘there is no debt to pay.’
‘I talk of the greater debt between us,’ said Prydain. ‘The debt we have denied each other for too long. Twenty years of friendship should not fall foul to the stupidity of war. I will not see you die, Cassus, not like this. There are people back in the Khymru who can heal this wound.’
‘The Khymru?’ said Cassus with a weak smile. ‘I was at my happiest when I shared the household of Madoc for those few months before the battle of Caer Caradog. There was a girl…
‘Sioned,’ said Prydain.
‘You know her?’
‘I have met her once,’ said Prydain. ‘She lives there still.’
‘I loved her, Prydain,’ said Cassus, ‘the only woman I have ever loved. She thought I died a hero at Caer Caradog and though I watched her from the trees for many nights after the battle, I knew I had to leave. My true identity meant I could never be with her.’
He gasped as Prydain stuffed strips of fabric against his wounds.
‘It’s not too late, Cassus,’ said Prydain. ‘You can go back and make your peace. Leave this bloodshed behind and seek happiness.’
‘And how do you think the arrival of a Centurion will be welcomed in the Khymru?’ laughed Cassus weakly. ‘I think the welcome will be somewhat cold, don’t you?’
‘I think you could be surprised,’ said Prydain. ‘Ordinary people are often detached from the politics of warfare and compassion is difficult to keep down.’
‘A pretty dream, Prydain,’ said Cassus, ‘but there have been too many bad things done by these hands. I fear I am beyond redemption.’
‘Let the gods be the judge of that,’ said Prydain as he secured the bandages. He turned to Taliesin.
‘Bring the horse,’ he said. ‘We need to move quickly.’
Cassus’ eyes closed and he slumped into Prydain’s arms.
‘Is he dead?’ asked Taliesin.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Prydain. ‘Help me move him. We have to get him to a Shaman.’
‘Why should we help him?’ asked Taliesin. ‘He is our enemy.’
‘He was,’ said Prydain, ‘but he was also once a friend.’
He turned back to the unconscious man.
‘You may be right or you may be wrong, Cassus, but one thing is certain. I am not leaving you here to die.’
Taliesin helped Prydain put the wounded Legionary on the horse.
‘Come,’ said Prydain, ‘we will take him to the Asbri.’
‘Not me, Prydain,’ said Taliesin, ‘at least, not yet.’
‘Why not?’ asked Prydain.
‘I need to be with Lannosea,’ he said. ‘I know the Khymru needs me and men have fallen in my name, but my heart needs Lannosea and without her, I will be nothing. I am sorry.’
Prydain stared at the boy for an age but eventually nodded in acceptance.
‘I understand,’ he said. ‘Be safe Taliesin and hopefully our paths will cross again one day.’
‘I am sure they will,’ said Taliesin. ‘Goodbye, Prydain and thank you.’
Prydain nodded and without another word, led the horse from the clearing to head toward the Khymru.
----
Chapter Twenty Nine
Legacy
Boudicca lay on a pile of furs at the back of a leaking hut. She and her entourage had escaped the wrath of the Romans and had managed to
seek refuge with a local tribe and though the battle had ended over a month earlier, her wound had become infected and the Shamen had struggled to find a cure. Her strength and demeanour had improved briefly when Heanua and Lannosea returned but it soon became apparent that she was deteriorating fast. Finally the Shamen admitted they had no more magic and told the Queen to prepare for the afterlife.
‘Bring me my daughters,’ she said weakly.
Several minutes later both girls entered and sat alongside the Queen’s death bed. With them were Taliesin and Heulwen, both now fully recovered from their ordeals.
‘My girls,’ said Boudicca. ‘My time here is over but I need you to promise me something.’
‘Anything,’ said Heanua through her tears.
‘Heanua,’ said Boudicca. ‘You have the heart of a Wolf and are a true warrior. Yet you have to bury these traits and become a leader to our people. The Iceni need a Queen, not to fight the Romans but to make sure no more bleed in my name. We had our chance, Heanua but the gods have a different path for us. Take this strength and ensure our people survive. It will be a greater feat than any battle and I do not know if it can be done but if anyone can do it, you can. Will you do this for me?’
Heanua nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes.
‘Lannosea?’ said Boudicca.
‘I am here, mother.’
‘Lannosea, I fear I was not there for you. For that I am truly sorry. I gave up on you when you needed me most. I thought you were dead, when you wandered alone and hungry.’
‘It’s alright, mother,’ sobbed Lannosea. ‘You weren’t to know.’
‘I should never have given up, child but my eyes were blinded by glory and that is unforgiveable.’ She looked toward Taliesin. ‘This boy was there for you when I was absent. I have seen the way you look at each other and know what is right. Taliesin, take my daughter back to your lands and become the man she deserves. Treat her well and remember she is the daughter of a Queen. Take the fight back to the Romans in the lands of the Khymru and one day, when your sons wield Britannic steel above a defeated Legion, let them know it is Boudicca’s blood that holds the blade. This will be my legacy.’
‘We will, Boudicca,’ said Taliesin, ‘in the name of Andraste I promise your legacy will live on.’
Boudicca coughed, her face screwed up in agony as the infection coursed through her veins and before the night was over, her body was carried out to lay on the funeral pyre prepared in readiness. As the dawn rose, three riders crested a hill and looked back down to the village they had just left. The pyre was still burning and Lannosea saw the solitary girl standing to one side, knowing she would probably never see her sister again.
‘Come,’ said Heulwen, ‘we have a long road ahead of us,’ and she urged her horse forward, closely followed by Lannosea and Taliesin.
----
Hundreds of miles away two men rode toward a small farmstead deep in the heart of the Khymru. The journey had been long but at last they had reached their destination. One rider was strong but the other nursed a wound to his back and was weak through blood loss.
‘Wait,’ said Cassus and reigned in his horse.
‘Does your wound give trouble?’ asked Prydain.
‘No more than usual,’ said Cassus, ‘but this is a situation I have never foreseen and I need a moment of reflection’
‘We have discussed this,’ said Prydain. ‘Despite the circumstances it is something that needs to be done.’
‘And you are sure she will be here?’ said Cassus.
‘As sure as I can be,’ said Prydain.
‘I loved her once,’ said Cassus, ‘but too much has happened to rebuild the past. How can I ever ask her to understand?’
‘Start by being honest, Cassus,’ said Prydain. ‘At the very least, the she deserves that. Besides, there is something I haven’t shared with you, something that will change your life forever.’
‘Which is?
‘It is not for me to say, Cassus,’ said Prydain. ‘For I may be wrong but if my suspicions are correct, the truth will unfold.’
They started riding again and stopped at the outskirts of the farm. Prydain helped Cassus dismount and they walked between the buildings. An old man ducked out of a hut and walked toward them.
‘Hwyl, strangers,’ he said. ‘Welcome to our home in peace.’
‘It is peace we seek, Madoc,’ said Prydain.
‘I recognise your voice,’ said Madoc. ‘You travelled with Heulwen many months ago.’
‘I did,’ said Prydain.
‘Is she with you?’ asked Madoc.
‘No,’ said Prydain, ‘and I have no news of her fate.’
‘A sad day,’ said Madoc. ‘And who is this?’
Cassus removed his hood.
‘You know me too, Madoc,’ he said. ‘I shared your hospitality ten years ago.’
Madoc’s eyes narrowed as he struggled to recognise the man.
‘My memory is not as good as it once was,’ he said, ‘and I struggle to remember your name.’
‘I remember,’ said a voice.
The men turned to see Sioned standing to one side.
‘Sioned,’ said Cassus. ‘You remember me.’
‘I remember,’ said Sioned. ‘You are the man I once loved. The man who left to fight at Caer Caradog and was reported dead. For ten years I have honoured your memory, yet now you return as if it was yesterday. What cruelty is this?’
‘I intend no cruelty, Sioned,’ said Cassus. ‘There were things I did not tell you and it was better you never had to face the truth.’
‘What truth could mirror the pain of your reported death,’ snapped Sioned.
‘I am not the person you think I am,’ said Cassus.
‘Who is it, mother?’ asked a voice and a young boy appeared from behind a wall. ‘Do you know him?’
Cassus stared at the boy before looking back at Sioned with confusion in his eyes.
‘Just a traveller, Allyn,’ said Sioned. ‘He is just passing through.’
‘Is that what you want?’ asked Cassus.
‘All I want is security for my son,’ said Sioned. ‘Your lies have given me ten years pain, what is to stop you leaving again?’
‘You are right, said Cassus. ‘There has been too much pain on all sides and the time for healing is here. If you give me a chance, I can be the man I once was. The man you once had feelings for.’
‘I don’t know, Cassus,’ she said. If there is to be any chance at all, there has to be honesty between us. Are you able to do that?’
‘I am,’ said Cassus, ‘though to do so there will be more pain before there is comfort.’
‘Then that is the price to be paid,’ said Sioned. She turned to her son. ‘Allyn, come here.’
The boy walked over and stood in front of his mother, facing the stranger.
Prydain stared at the boy’s prominent features and knew his assumption had been correct. He had seen that face before, not just on the fleeting visit a few months earlier, but many, many times in the vineyards of his youth.
‘Allyn,’ said Sioned, there is something you should know. I have always told you that your father fell at Caer Caradog, but it seems I was wrong. This man before you is your father.’
The gathering fell silent as the news sunk in. Finally Allyn walked forward to stand before Cassus.
‘Is it true?’ he asked, ‘are you my father?’
‘No more lies, Cassus,’ said Sioned quietly.
Cassus glanced toward Prydain and received a slight nod of encouragement. Cassus returned his attention to the boy and dropped to his knees.
‘It is true, Allyn,’ he said, ‘I am your father but there is something you should know.’
He paused and took a deep breath.
‘My name,’ he said is ‘Cassus Maecilius………and I am Roman!’
---
The End
Author’s Notes
Though many versions of Boudicca’s campaign abound ther
e are very little references from the time. The Roman historians, Tacitus and Dio both refer to her reign briefly though exact details are not available. Some things are however generally agreed by many historians and the notes below reflect the history, as far as current research can ascertain.
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The Treatment of Boudicca and her daughters
After the death of Prasatagus, Seneca the Younger called in the debts of the Iceni and despite the wishes of the dead king, a deal for power sharing was rejected. Boudicca and her two daughters were beaten and raped. This seems to have been the catalyst for the uprising.
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The Island of Mona
Mona (Anglesey in modern day Wales) was the headquarters of the powerful Druids and was under siege from the Gemina Legion when the uprising started. Governor Gaius Suetonius Paullinus was in command of the IV Germina Legion at the time and led them across country to Londinium as soon as he could. Once there he decided that defence was impossible and left Londinium to face Boudicca’s army alone.
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Boudicca’s Victories.
Boudicca seems to have laid waste to three major population centres at that time, Camulodunum, (Colchester) Londinium, (London) and Verulamium (St Albans) During the campaign she also defeated the Ninth Hispana Legion, probably her greatest victory.
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The Brutality of Boudicca
There are some notes recording the brutality of Boudicca’s army and records show that many of those depicted in this book actually happened at the time. In reality, as in many historical battles, the reality was probably much worse.
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Catus Decianus
Catus Decianus was the Procurator at the time and it seems he failed to see the seriousness of the revolt, sending only a force of two hundred men to relieve Camulodunum. He later escaped to Gaul, thus avoiding the rout of Londinium.
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Quintus Petillius Cerialis.
Petillius was in command of the Ninth Hispana, though when the Legion was defeated, he escaped the slaughter and in later years, went on to become a Governor of Britannia.
Roman III - The Wrath of Boudicca Page 30
