“We’re not all warriors cousin, that’s the problem.” Caratacus said as they continued to move slowly along. “Some don’t fight because they’re cowards but I know what you mean, I would rather be dust than live amongst them. Some of them have had the fight knocked out of them, some are terrified for their loved ones and a few just want to live in peace, to work the land and tend their crops. Life is a struggle with that alone.”
Ardwen didn’t reply but grunted in response as they got to a wide track worn by previous travellers. An old man with a mule and cart was slowly rumbling coming the other way over the bumpy ground.
“Good day to you,” Caratacus said as they got closer, “how are things?” He asked. The old man squinted up at them with the winter sun now high in the sky behind them, “Who are you?” He said without any pleasantries, clear and direct.
“We are of the Dobunni.” Caratacus replied lying. They had already decided to say, they were from the tribal lands to the north of where they were now and hoped it would avoid any suspicion.
“Are you?” The old man said challenging the response, “You don’t sound like you are!”
Ardwen pushed his hood back and looked at Caratacus concern on his face, he turned his attention back to the old man, a harsh stern look on his face. “How are things with the Romans old man?” He asked.
The man stopped, pulling gently on the reins of the mule and looked at them more closely, studying their swords. “You will have them taken from you if they see them,” he said nodding at their weapons, “they don’t like to see Britons carrying arms, the only thing with a blade we can use is for crops or butchery. Anyone with a long sword will be taken in and questioned.” He covered his eyes against the sun. “What business do you have here?”
“We have grain to trade and were thinking that the people here may want some in exchange for goods.” Caratacus said.
“So why do you have concern for the Romans?” The old man asked.
The two warriors halted their mounts properly and climbed down. “We expect them to move into our own lands when the spring comes, it’s only natural that we are curious as to how you find them.” Caratacus replied. The old man turned to look at the fort.
“Well?” Ardwen said, “We are fellow Britons old man are we not and I expect an answer when we ask a question of another about the men who have moved into our lands and taken what is rightfully ours.”
“Mm well we didn’t actually welcome them as you are probably aware.” He got down off the cart and walked forward and patted his mule on the rump. “They take our crops to feed their soldiers, grain mostly, they use our women and they try to persuade our young men to join their legions. Our leaders have been told they are to pay annual tributes to them, in exchange they say they will protect the people and show us things, how to build from stone and how to make life better. They say they will bring civilisation to us, whatever that means, things we are not aware of.”
“And how are the people taking to them?” Ardwen said.
“They are different from others who have been in charge before, that’s certain.” He said, “They keep order and control of what goes on, some say that things are better under them, some say they want them gone and some don’t care because life is hard enough. No man likes to be told how to live his life but it always happens, the difference here is that these men come from a different land and speak with a different tongue.”
“Do they stay behind their walls?” Caratacus asked.
“For the main they do but not always, once in a while they come out in groups of at least eight. Our leaders go inside sometimes to discuss matters but we normal folk don’t really get to hear about what they talk about unless it affects us. I suppose it will be different once the spring comes but that’s not for a while. I see mounted patrols go out quite often but where they ride to I couldn’t say. They’re always back by dark and don’t stay out overnight.”
Caratacus and Ardwen looked at each other and then back at the old man, Caratacus asked, “Where can we find your leader and what do you call him?”
“He is named Wilmarn and you will find him in the large roundhouse near to the forts entrance.” He pointed. “He took over after the Romans came as the old leader and his family were put to death after they resisted, you will see their heads on spikes as a warning to others.” He looked back to the fort again. “They’re along the bank of the river, their children as well.”
“Go safely old man,” Caratacus said, “we will look for this Wilmarn and see about trading.” They led their horses.
“Remember those swords,” the old man said pointing at their hilts, “I would cover them or hide them before you go any further, you can always collect them on the way home.”
They nodded in response and continued leading their horses. “It sounds like the locals have accepted them already.” Ardwen said.
“Accepted? I wouldn’t say that cousin, I don’t think they had much choice. We know they tried to fight as did my own people. It makes me wonder how my own fair, are some still resisting or have they settled to their enforced way of life. I wonder what the land looks like now, has it changed? There are so many things that run through my mind especially when I try to sleep at night.”
“We could always go and see,” Ardwen said, “it would probably take a few days ride to get there though and I’m sure there would be check points along the way.”
“Maybe in the weeks to come but we have work to do here first. Come on let’s see what’s happening. We’ll put our weapons here under the edge of this bush. I don’t want to risk them getting found.” Caratacus said as he halted his horse and lifted the leafy branches from which frost fell, Ardwen put his own sword next to his cousins and then climbed aboard his horse, together they continued down the track. It wasn’t long before the first of the roundhouses came fully into sight with smoke climbing high out of the thatched roof. They rode past fields with rows of crops, they had obviously been there long before the invaders came. Fish were set up drying on wooden rails waiting to be smoked, some children came out shouting hello at the strangers as they went by.
“Amazing how normal everything looks isn’t it?” Caratacus asked.
Ardwen smiled, “They are living day by day as the old man said. I think we should stay clear of this Wilmarn.”
“I was thinking the same thing, it’s probably better to keep a low profile and just have a look around, maybe talk to a few of the locals and see what there is to see and if there’s anything that would prove an effective target.” Caratacus said.
They rode their horses around the bend fully and Ardwen said nodding, “How about that?” The fort came into view, its external walls constructed of long straight tall tree trunks cut from the local forest. The builders had filled in the gaps between the logs with some hardened substance that prevented them from seeing inside. A deep trench had been dug near the track below the wall they now followed. Inside it, were branches and sticks that looked to be covering something below but they couldn’t see what. Sharpened spiked timbers stuck out at low angles from the wall, they would make climbing difficult, virtually impossible especially if they were under fire. The wood glistened even with the frost as if it had been coated with some dark substance, Caratacus couldn’t make out if it was something oily, slippery or both. They saw that they were being watched from above as they walked slowly past and tried to act normally. One of the soldiers looked out at them his breath apparent in the cold air.
“Don’t look up and he’ll take no notice.” Caratacus said, and he was right. Out of the corner of his eye he saw than the legionary had begun to walk in the opposite direction towards one of the large towers at the corner of the structure. The main entrance was approachable over a wooden flat bridge over the ditch, it was around twenty paces wide. They passed more roundhouses on the opposite side of the track and then came to the river. At first there didn’t seem to be any activity aboard the vessels anchored to the bank, on the second ship however, a man appeared wearing a brightly coloured red tunic. He paid little interest to them and went about his business on the vessel. These were the ships they had seen from the outside of the settlement on the hillside. They were locked in the frozen water, also waiting for the spring to come.