After a breakfast of bread and cheese, they went to the stable where they had arranged to meet up with Brenna and Lita, the two women were already there.
“Rough night gentlemen?” Brenna asked.
“For some more than others.” Varro replied walking to Staro and patting his neck. “Hello boy,” he said, “I hope they’ve been looking after you?” Staro’s big dark eyes looked at him as he nudged his chest.
“You’ll need a change of clothing.” Lita said.
“What?” Grattius replied rubbing his head.
“Unless of course you don’t want to even make it over the border, it’s up to you but I would advise a change of clothing, something more local.”
“She’s right,” Varro said, “we’ll get a change of clothing at Isca before we make the final leg of the journey.”
“Mm,” Grattius muttered, “and final it’ll probably be.” He said as he lifted his saddle cloth. “Are you sure it’s not too late to go back to the infantry?”
Varro smiled, “Quite sure Optio Grattius, now let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”
It took a while to prepare the horses for travel, Brenna and Lita had indigenous animals, they were slightly shorter and stockier than the Roman mounts but were known to be hardy. As the first rays of sunshine began to burn away the slight frost on the ground they set off, heading west.
Caradoc examined the shield he held and turned it over, it was rectangular in shape, virtually as large as a Roman shield and bowed inwards slightly at the edges. It was lined with brass and in the centre on the side that would face the enemy, was a large bulbous shield boss, he smiled.
“How much protection do they offer?” He asked of the carpenter and smithy, both had helped create them. Behind the two was a cart laden with other examples.
“They can stop stabs and blows and prevent arrows, their javelins too for a time.” He said. “The problem will be making more, I can’t produce them quickly, I have to find the right wood, bind it, the metal smith,” he pointed to the man next to him with a dirty face, “here has to create the edging or they’ll just splinter and be worthless.”
Ardwen walked over to the cart and examined the pile of shields and picked one up. He drew his sword and placed the shield on the ground, “Let’s see shall we?” He said and struck the boss with a mighty blow sending sparks flying into the air. The tip of the sword slid to the wood in the same movement and embedded itself. “Mm impressive but how are they after a few blows, in a real battle?”
“We’ll see shall we?” Caradoc said pulling his sword free of its scabbard and hefting the shield he held.
“Oh right, like that is it?” Ardwen frowned and then smiled. “Come on then mighty King of the Catuvellauni, let’s see what they can do shall we?”
The two warriors crouched and approached each other, “I don’t want you holding back.” Caradoc said, “This is to be a proper test.”
Without answering Ardwen rushed forward screaming and brought his weapon to bear in an overhead arc, Caradoc just had time to raise his shield properly as his opponent brought his sword down wildly. The blade bit into the edging made of bronze as Caradoc moved to the left and pulled his shield away, there was slight damage but nothing more.
“My turn.” He said not giving Ardwen any more notice as a flurry of blows struck the Silurian’s shield forcing him backward. Caradoc’s long sword pounded against the wood repeatedly, the weapon becoming a blur, fast blows striking again and again as splinters of wood flew all around but the shield held. Ardwen jinked to the right and brought his weapon up.
“Now mine.” He said, stabbing with one hand whilst peeping out from behind the shield and advancing, the point struck Caradoc’s defensive barrier again and again but still it held. Caradoc moved forward, bending low and punched out, he could feel the impact of his cousin’s sword as he struck the point of the sword, metal against metal as blade struck boss, again Ardwen was forced backward.
“Our swords are heavy to be held with one hand like this.” He said peering over his shield, “Now I know why those Roman bastards use those children’s weapons they carry.” He laughed as Caradoc lunged again, his entire weight behind the blow as he knocked Ardwen to the ground.
“Enough, enough,” he said, “for now anyway.” And got to his feet, both men examined the shields. They were slightly battered but had held up considerably well.
“I want you to begin making more right away.” Caradoc said breathing harder than he had before, “I will send you young men who you will teach, old men too, who are too old to fight. Our warriors are brave but they stand no chance against an army trained to fight behind shields like these. If it means cutting down an entire forest then so be it, we have to have better protection.” He turned to Ardwen. “We also need to train the men and women to fight with them, sword in one hand and a shield in the other. With the winter coming we’ll have a few months to prepare, they’ll be tucked up behind their walls until spring at the earliest, so we have time to organise.” He said nodding in an easterly direction. “I want the better warriors trained first and then they can train the others, not the play fighting they’re used to, and we need more archers and slingers.” Ardwen looked pleased with his plans, “We can do this cousin, I’m certain of it.”
“And who will we find to train them?” Ardwen asked.
“We have soldiers as prisoners still, the ones we took off the mountains when the mighty Second Augusta came, they will help us or die.” Caradoc said.
“That’s if the druids haven’t sacrificed them all.” Ardwen replied.
“They haven’t,” he paused and stared at Ardwen, “I told them to stop when I heard what they were doing the stupid fools, there are over a hundred of them still alive on Mona and more are captured every day.”
Ardwen stared at his cousin but Caradoc continued before he could say anything. “They are too valuable to just slaughter, these men aren’t just soldiers. They can build things, create things, they can make tools and they can train our people. We let them live, we feed them and make sure they’re looked after and they will help us.”
Ardwen didn’t look happy. “Shields and training it is then but a lot of the men won’t be happy cowering behind shields you know, it’s not our way.” He said.
“And would they be happier left to rot or thrown into the ground dead at the hands of the legions?” He looked from Ardwen to the carpenter and smith, “Many lives depend on your crafting skills, make them quickly but make them well. While you teach others and make more you can show riders what trees you want and they can look for them so you two aren’t wasting your time scouring the woods and forests.” He looked back to Ardwen and then addressed them again. “I cannot tell you how important this is, but know it will be as vital as the crops we grow, the animals we raise and the air we breathe. You must give this task everything you have, do you understand?”
Both men nodded.
“I want to know straight away if you encounter any problems,” he thought for a moment, “if you can’t get the right wood or the stone for smelting or if someone isn’t working properly and doing as you say, if you need charcoal, whatever it is, you come to me or better, send a messenger so you can keep working. Is that clear?”
The men nodded again.
“Good, then be about your task and good luck.” Caradoc said dismissing the craftsmen. He turned to Ardwen, “Send a messenger to Mona and tell them that I want all the prisoners sent here.”
“They won’t be too pleased about that.” Ardwen replied.
“Then ask them which of them will stop the Romans when they come across the mountains again in spring. Who of them will fight and kill the invaders? They will have to co-operate or they may as well just throw themselves into the sea and be done with it. We are fighting for our very survival and if the druids don’t do as I ask, then I shall visit them and wipe them from the face of the earth myself.” Caradoc said angrily.