“Maybe they don’t care that we know where they are.” Varro replied.
“You’re right Centurion Varro, we are not hiding here. This is free land, our land and even if you were to go back and tell your leaders where we are, there are many thousands of spears and swords between here and them to stop them.” Ardwen said. “Remember you face us now and the Catuvellauni, those that you didn’t destroy when you first arrived anyway. No tribes within these lands will bow down to your emperor Claudius as they did in the east.”
It was a sobering thought as they slowly made their way upward and the smoke rising into the air multiplied from the mountain fortress where Caradoc waited. Long before they arrived at his location, they started to come across smaller settlements. Ardwen named the people along the way, the names of tribes that Varro and Grattius hadn’t heard of. Faces stared at the small party as they rode on, clearly word had already reached them of their arrival. Some stared in hatred at the two short haired men dressed like them, whilst others looked on with curiosity, the two women were ignored.
Eventually they crossed one final river and joined a well-worn path and the ground levelled out, the horses stopped working so hard and the panorama opened up before them. Huge grass covered ramparts hid the settlement inside, beyond the first was another and then another. The tiny figures of people could be seen on top of them, watching as the riders approached.
“Why do I feel like throwing up?” Grattius said to Varro under his breath.
“Tip of the spear my friend,” Varro replied, “tip of the spear.”
“Just behave normally if you can manage it.” Lita said kicking her horse forward level with Ardwen. She spoke in their tongue.
“What did you say?” Varro asked. Lita turned her horse around and faced the two men, “I told him that it was nice to be home.”
“What? You said what?” Grattius asked.
“You heard me; this is my home, where do you think I came from?” She said her face neutral. “Some swamp or some hut somewhere?” She asked. Grattius pulled up.
“Wait a moment,” he struggled to control his horse who could feel the sudden tension, “you mean to tell me that you knew all along where to find Caradoc? You double crossing bitch.” He spat the last words out.
“Hold on Grattius you misunderstand.” Brenna said, “We made no secret of the fact that Lita is from here, that she’s Silurian.”
“That’s right Grattius, if I had known he was here then this is where I would have brought you. Do you believe him stupid enough to stay in one place?” Lita said. “With your legions waiting to pounce?” Her horse spun round. “This is but one mountain fort, there are many as there are many tribes in these lands, I didn’t betray you, you fool.”
“Alright let’s just calm down and get inside shall we?” Varro said, “you’re talking is beginning to give me a headache.”
They rode through a gap in the ramparts and followed Ardwen as he led them along the track and upward, coiling around the perimeter of the huge mountain fort. In time they rounded a corner between high grassed banks and came out into an opening, the interior of the fort, it was huge. Smoke billowed upward into the air from hundreds of roundhouses, there were ploughed fields, animal pens containing, horses, cows, pigs and chickens. The clanging of a blacksmiths hammer, no, two hammers could be heard somewhere in the distance. Off to the left they had an archery range where men and women alike practised with bows, firing arrows at least three hundred feet into large straw filled targets. Beyond the bow range there were lines of warriors holding square shields and walking into each other, thrusting through the gaps with wooden swords, Varro and Grattius exchanged more worrying looks as they went deeper into the city-like fortress.
“And there are more of these?” Varro asked Lita.
“Yes there are a few,” She replied, “though not all are as large as this.”
“Come,” Ardwen said, angling off to the left, “we’ll stable the horses and go and see Caradoc.”
A short time later Ardwen led them to a large wooden building, tall straight timbers made up the walls, between each was packed hard crammed mud, Varro thought that it resembled the concrete they themselves used. A high roof angled into a V at the top where there was a large carved wooden effigy of a ram charging.
“What does that signify?” Varro asked.
“The charging ram? It’s said and thought that’s where Caraodoc’s name originated from, many generations ago. It is now the symbol of our combined people although the Deceangli, Gangani, Ordovices, Cornovii, Demetae and my own Silures retain their own unique patterns. These your legions have not faced in battle yet,” he smiled, “maybe that won’t happen if your talks are a success.”
He led them to two large doors, there were no guards controlling entry, on opening them Varro and the others saw into the interior, it seemed bigger on the inside. Large square windows allowed good lighting inside and there were two large fires in the middle of the floor located at either end, providing heat and banners of various tribes displayed on the walls. Thick wood tables lay in-between the fires and at the far end was Caradoc sitting talking to other Britons. Caradoc rose and approached the new arrivals.
“You made it,” he said extending a hand to Ardwen and to each of the guests in turn, “I trust your journey was uneventful and that you are feel better Centurion Varro?” Varro took his hand. It was a firm, strong greeting.
“Welcome to all of you, please,” he extended his hand to the waiting tribesmen, “let me introduce you to the kings who lead our allies and tribal chieftains.” Although the two soldiers didn’t receive such a warm welcome from the others, they merely nodded a greeting; there was no open hostility toward them. “Take a seat and I will arrange some refreshments.” They were shown to a table nearest the one seating the waiting Britons, while drink and food were brought in for them. Caradoc took his place at the head of the other table.
“Please eat, drink you must be thirsty from your journey.” He lifted a large jug and poured a dark fluid into an ornately carved cup and took a drink. “We can discuss your General’s proposal afterward.” He smiled, lifted his cup and raised it in the direction of his guests. “Welcome.”
The meal was eaten in virtual silence on Varro’s table while the Britons and Caradoc laughed and joked, speaking in a language that was unfamiliar to the Romans.
“It seems our hosts are very relaxed.” Grattius pointed out.
“They have every right to be,” Varro said, “they are a long way from the reach of Plautius and even if he decided to march on them in spring, it would take a long time to fight their way here, weeks, months, maybe even years. It would appear that they have amassed quite an army of many thousands to face us and there is the terrain to consider.” Varro took in their surroundings and looked at the banners on the walls bearing different animal insignia, Ravens, Wolves, Bears, Horses and Boar and some he didn’t recognise. Gold and silver ornaments were displayed on small tables along the walls, vases, jewelled cups and plates, weapons and shields adorned the walls between the banners. The warriors sitting with Caradoc wore their hair long, some tied up at the back. Nearly all had torques around their necks and arms, as did the King. Most had blue swirling tattoos curling around their thick biceps and at least three had them, extended to their faces, making them look fierce and extremely primitive. Young women brought more food and ale, Varro and his guests were offered wine, Roman wine that Varro avoided wanting to keep his wits sharp, although Grattius indulged remarking that the wine was good.
“Where do you think they got that from?” Varro asked of the wine.
“It’s probably from the raids they have been making into Roman territory.” Lita said with a contented look on her face, “What?” She asked seeing the expressions on the men’s faces. “You must know about the raids surely? It’s well known that Caradoc has war parties deep inside your lines. I’ve been told they’ve even destroyed a number of forts and villas that your people built to enslave the local populations.”