“Who are you? What do you want?” He shouted searching the trees around the houses, nothing moved except the wet leaves then a voice called out.
“You are fortunate that we got here when we did Roman, or you and your women would be dead by now.” A heavily accented voice shouted from somewhere beyond the leaves and bushes.
“Who are you?” Grattius shouted backing up slightly.
“His women?” Brenna whispered. “I’ll carve a steak from that man’s flesh.”
The leaves parted, “I am Caradoc”
A tall Briton walked forward through the low branches. Grattius stared at him as others appeared holding bows. The Briton was not as he had imagined him, he was bald, his head glistening in the rain and handsome, a well-defined strong jaw, visible cheek bones and a muscular frame under his clothing. He wore a dark red hooded cloak over black furs.
“The elder’s son found me and told me that you were here, we travelled through the night and it looks like it’s a good thing we did.” He looked around at the bodies, one man was still alive and moaned, “Some tale about preventing a war, some plan you have come to tell me about.”
A man with him stepped forward and thrust his sword into the injured man’s neck. He squirmed and gurgled, pinned to the ground.
“Finish him Ardwen, quickly.” Caradoc commanded. Ardwen pulled his large sword free and hacked down at the stricken man’s neck. One blow was enough to kill him but not enough to remove the head completely.
“Sinew and bone,” Caradoc said, “It’s surprising how difficult it is to remove a man’s head.”
Ardwen arched down again and the head rolled free, dead eyes staring at nothing from the mud, “Yes, but if you keep trying,” He said smiling, “You can achieve anything.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Centurion Varro I presume?” Caradoc stepped forward.
“Ugh, erm no….” Grattius stuttered turning and pointing at the roundhouse, “He’s inside, ill.”
“No he’s not.” Grattius turned fully and saw Varro leaning against the door frame to the roundhouse. He was pale and wrapped in a blanket, Brenna ran towards him.
“Get inside now you stupid man or you’ll catch your death.” She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, Caradoc smiled.
“Listen to her Centurion. Women know what’s best for us, even if we don’t sometimes. Get inside and get well, our talk can wait.” He spoke to Ardwen, “I’ll leave some men here to make sure there isn’t a re-occurrence of this.” He looked down at the dead Britons, “I don’t want to have to murder more of my own people.” Looking up at Grattius he added, “I may need them to kill Romans, some day.” He was about to reply when Lita nudged him.
“Don’t say a word.” She whispered, her elbow was sharp in his back.
“What is your name Roman?” Caradoc asked.
“Grattius, Optio Grattius.” He said almost adding the word sir and coming to attention. Caradoc studied him and walked closer, he pushed the hood off his head. It was almost shiny in the morning murk and rain.
“Stand easy soldier, I wouldn’t want you to sprain yourself.” Caradoc said.
“You speak our language well.” Grattius said.
“My brother was educated in Rome, he taught me well.”
“Where is your brother now, in the mountains with you?” Grattius asked.
Caradoc smiled, “My brother? My real brother is dead, killed by Romans like you after the battle of the two rivers. He died well though, a warrior’s death.” He paused. “It broke my heart to see him wounded so badly, his chest punctured in so many places.” He looked down but kept talking. “What matters is that he died defending his people, his land, he died with honour.” He looked back up and directly into Grattius’ eyes, “The other one, my eldest brother died by my own hand, his name was Adminius and he was a traitor. He betrayed everything we stand for and deserved a coward’s death after declaring his loyalty to Rome.”
He stared at Grattius now, dark eyes unblinking. “I must leave, bring your friend when he is well enough to travel, this one knows where to come.” He gestured towards the elder’s son. “Don’t worry Roman, I will guarantee your safety for the duration of these talks, you and those with you will not be harmed, you have my word on this.” Caradoc moved quickly to his horse and jumped up, “Thirty warriors will stay in this area, if you need anything speak to them.”
Varro coughed as Brenna wrapped the blankets around him back inside the roundhouse, “You should have stayed in bed, it was stupid to go to the door in your condition.”
“I couldn’t ignore our host could I?” He said and coughed again, he lay down. “So that’s the great Caradoc? He’s not what I expected.”
“And what did you expect of a man who has united the western tribes?” Lita asked, “Don’t say a barbarian? I’ll be disappointed.”
“I don’t know exactly, he seems like a man who may listen to reason that’s all.” He said wiping his mouth with a cloth. Brenna got him a cup of water.
“Drink.” She said offering him the cup. “You need to drink as much as possible remember?”
“As long as it’s not got any more of that dung in it or whatever it was that old crone brought me.” He replied taking a sip.
“Made you well didn’t it?” Grattius asked, “Or nearly, it appears to be helping anyway. I’d rather eat my own shit than be as ill as you were.” Varro smiled.
“I’m glad our situation hasn’t dampened your wit, my friend.” Varro said and drained the cup. “I was out of it for a while,” he looked around, “where are we exactly?”
“Lita found the elder from this village and a small party of hunters after you collapsed, we brought you to their dwelling.” Brenna said, “His son went to find Caradoc and got back just in time.”
“He was very good looking don’t you think?” Lita said smiling.
“Caradoc?” Varro asked, “I suppose so but not my type really, Brenna pushed his shoulder laughing.
“Yes he was.” She added.
“If you’ve all finished your, ‘oh how wonderful was the rebel king’ conversation, we’d better go and find some food for later.” Grattius said.
“We still shouldn’t go wandering about out there, even if we’re being guarded.” Lita said, “I’ll go and ask the elder’s son and see what he suggests, it’s better to be safe.”
A few days later Varro was well enough to travel and the four packed up their things and thanked the elder and his family for their hospitality. It turned out that Caradoc had left his cousin Ardwen with the group of warriors to make sure they were safe and he provided them with an escort to where Caradoc was located. The rain had finally stopped falling during the night and glorious sunshine shone overhead for their journey through the mountains. Although it was still cold when they were in the shade, the sun warmed their exposed skin when they were out in the open. Through valleys and across rivers they trekked virtually in silence with Ardwen leading the way, his men following behind. Varro and Grattius exchanged uncomfortable glances every now and again as they got deeper inside enemy territory, each step taking them further and further away from safety despite the assurances they’d been given.
“There’s no going back now.” Grattius said quietly.
“It’s got to be done, not that we had any choice in the matter anyway.” Varro replied.
“Caradoc is a man of his word,” Ardwen said, “if he says that you’ll be fine and are not to be harmed, then that’s exactly what will happen. We keep our promises,” he said, “this isn’t Rome.”
The two soldiers didn’t reply and Varro saw Lita smile as they rode on. Eventually they rode adjacent to an enormous ravine and Ardwen pointed, “That’s where we’re going.”
The others in the group looked up and saw tiny plumes of smoke rising up into the azure sky, some distance away on a mountain top.
“I would have had us blindfolded for the journey.” Grattius said.