“We mean you no harm.” Varro shouted. “If you wish, we will withdraw.” He watched the boy as he walked towards the bushes some thirty paces in front of them and then he was out of sight within the blink of an eye. Varro turned in his saddle to gauge the feeling amongst his men, he saw suspicious, nervous glances still scouring the trees and bushes ahead.
They all knew that a number of things could happen next and at any moment and with such speed that they may not be able to do anything about it. The position they were in allowed for a safe distance from every weapon known to the Britons except the bow and that weapon was fast and not defendable if used by a good bowman. Varro clicked his tongue quietly and Staro slowly backed up, movement that was mirrored by the other horses.
Everything seemed to slow and a strange quiet descended over the group as the Romans continued to move slowly backwards. It was disturbed by whispered mumbling somewhere through the trees in front of them.
“Easy lads,” Veranius almost whispered, “we don’t won’t to fuck this up and end up like that poor little bastard last night, easy does it, no stupid moves eh?”
Suddenly there was movement and it came from all around them. As one, their swords were drawn iron scraping against their sheaths as the soldiers prepared to defend themselves from the unseen force that was descending on them from all around them. Their spathas drawn and ready for action if required, still they backed up.
Varro glanced quickly backwards and saw that the path behind them was still open. He knew that he could give the order and within the time it took an arrow to reach them they would be literally out of the woods and free.
“Stop Roman!”
The order he knew was directed at him and not his group as a whole, it was the same female voice as before. As he again looked forward at moving branches to the front of their position, he saw a shape begin to emerge followed by another smaller figure.
“I am known as Brenna Roman. We are grateful for you returning our young man, you will not be harmed here, you are safe.”
The woman standing before him was petite and dressed in colourful tribal clothing. She wore leggings that were green and yellow criss-crossed, her top a light brown. Uncovered athletic brown arms were adorned with golden torques above her elbows and above the biceps as well as one thick piece around her neck.
“You have returned Junium to us.” She glanced down at the boy. “So you are regarded as friends wherever your home lies, unlike the people that took him. He has told me what happened, you saved his life at the risk of your own, please come now. We will give you food and water.” She turned with the boy and began to walk away, the soldiers didn’t move and looked towards Varro.
“I’m sure if they’d wanted us dead, we probably already would be. Come on let’s see what a Britons hospitality is like.” He said. They dismounted and followed Brenna.
A short time later they came across a large clearing where pigs and sheep were kept in pens and dogs roamed freely outside. The locals stopped their work and play as Brenna and her party approached. Some had been attending to rows of plants, some tending to their animals and some were practising with bows away to the side of the settlement, men and women alike. The expressions on the faces of the locals were a mixture of surprise, shock and disbelief. They had clearly never seen men like these before, even their horses were strange compared to the Britons who’s own animals were grazing on land in a fenced off area. It wasn’t a scene they had suspected to see as it was far more civilised and organised than they were led to expect in Britannia.
“Put your horses with ours Roman, they will be safe, you have my word.” Brenna said. Varro thought for a moment, he could either do as she suggested or they could tie their horses up where they could get to them quickly. It was a decisive moment but he couldn’t risk dying because of his misguided trust of this woman.
“We’ll leave them here for now.” He said tying Staro to the fencing corralling the locals horses in. Staro was interestedly watching the horses in the paddock whose curiosity got the better of them as they came over to see their new guests. Varro sheathing his sword looked about at his surroundings noting the chariots at the far side of the roundhouses. They resembled pictures he had seen and drawings of chariots used by the eastern tribes of his own country but were sleeker.
“Come, come.” Brenna said as she led them to the centre of the village. Feeling a little more at ease but still alert and suspicious, the soldiers followed. The Briton had long dark brown straight hair, its sheen bright in the mid-day sun. She led them to the village centre where they were met by a large impressive brute of a man. The boy ran to him, wrapping his arms around his neck as the man bent to pick him up smiling and clearly relieved.
“This is Tevelgus my brother.” Brenna announced and father to Junuim.” Tevelgus spoke to Brenna who in turn translated his words. “Tevelgus says you are welcome here and will be safe as a reward for saving his son.” Varro saw for the first time that Brenna’s eyes were of the darkest green, the sun enhancing them and that she was quite strikingly beautiful.
“Thank you. We have come in peace to these lands in order to provide knowledge of the greater world and our empire.” Varro said to Brenna.
“We have heard of your great empire Roman and of the lands that have fallen to it because they would not kneel. We have little interest of such things and merely wish to live peacefully, working our land and raising our children.” She turned to her brother, “Tevelgus can speak your words but does not trust you, so I will tell you his meaning until he does.”
Tevelgus spoke again with Brenna translating. “He says that some of the villages have sworn to band together with Togodumnus and Caratacus to push your army back into the sea.”
Varro looked at the big man giving away nothing. Tevelgus was wearing similar clothing to Brenna, with no weapons apparent. His hair was shoulder length and covered in what Varro assumed was lime. A large moustache was also limed and extended just to the edges of Tevelgus’ large head. His bare arms were ripped with muscles and easily comparable to those of Varro. He indicated for the Romans to sit on some cut down tree trunks, rudimentary seating was levelled off at the top.
Tevelgus shouted something to another Briton who quickly ran to do his bidding. Brenna explained that he had asked that ale be brought for them the soldiers looked at each other.
“What is ale?” Asked Marcus.
“Ale, you do not have ale in your great and mighty empire?”
Varro spoke, “It’s their version of wine Marcus only it’s made from barley and hops not grape. It has the same effect however and sometimes is a lot stronger, so be careful with the amount you drink.” Marcus smiled as the other Briton re-appeared carrying large wooden pots, he gave them to the seated group, Veranius eyed the brew handed to him suspiciously.
“Here.” Brenna said, offering her pot for his, “take mine.”
He looked at Varro who nodded his agreement. Marcus took the drink, gave it a sniff of approval and took a swig, his eyebrows raised as he swallowed the liquid.
“Mm this ale is quite good, try it!”
They all tried the ale for themselves, to a man they smiled their agreement with Marcus and watched astonished as Brenna drained her own and asked for more.
Brenna explained to her guests that although they in their village respected the sun, the sky, the trees and the water, they did not worship it in the same way as their neighbours and they didn’t sacrifice people in order to try to ensure them. They believed in spirits and a god but one, not many. She knew the Romans had lots of gods and their people prayed to whichever one they thought would provide what they required at the time of asking. Varro was coming to the conclusion that her people were quite enlightened and not the backward cave dwelling savages they were led to believe they would find.