The next morning the sky had cleared and although a thin frost lay on the ground, a warm sun shone overhead. Varro and his party had been housed quite comfortably overnight in a secluded roundhouse and guarded, as was to be expected.
“Gods teeth, my head hurts.” Grattius moaned wrapping his cloak around his shoulders. “What did they put in that grog?” He asked of no-one in particular, “You don’t think they poisoned us do you?”
Brenna gave him an annoyed look, “If they wanted us dead, don’t you think we would be already? Why waste time with potions when they could just overpower us and kill us?”
“Mm good point,” He replied, “so today’s the day then I suppose, when the fate of Britannia is decided.” He bent down to tie his boot laces. “Do you think they’ll feed us this morning?”
Before anyone could answer, three young Britons entered the building carrying wooden trays. On plates there was bread, cheese and slices of cooked meat, they placed them down on a table, stared at the occupants and then left without saying a word.
“Ah that answers that then.” Grattius said striding forward and picking up a plate and piling it with food. “I’m starving and perhaps this will help clear my head as well.”
After breakfast, Varro led them outside into the morning sun, a group of warriors armed with spears and long swords greeted them and they were led back to the hall where they had eaten the night before. Caradoc was waiting for them, he was alone.
“Good morning to you all.” He said standing. “Please come, take a seat.” He indicated to the chairs that had been occupied the night before by kings and chieftains. “Let us get down to business Centurion. I am eager to hear your general’s plan for my people.” Varro removed the scrolls from a leather case and he and his companions sat down.
“Won’t your war council be joining us?” He asked.
Caradoc smiled and leaned forward, “They trust my judgement and will abide by whatever decision I come to today, they have already left for home.” He looked from Varro to Brenna.
“Tell me how you and Lita came to work for the Romans?” Caradoc asked.
“I thought we were here to discuss the proposed treaty?” Varro said before Brenna could answer.
“We have time to discuss that as well but I’m curious to know how a person can turn on their own kind. What is it that causes that to happen?” Caradoc asked looking at Brenna and Lita.
“When they first came with their ships and soldiers,” Brenna said, “we didn’t know what to do. Our initial response was to fight and to join the others who were resisting, but this man rescued a boy from our settlement. Druids were going to burn him alive as they had done to another to satisfy their gods.”
“Their gods, do you mean your gods?” Caradoc asked.
“The druids do want they want, when they want, to who they want, they have no regard for others, just what they believe to be right. They rule over me no more than you, or these Romans. I want to live in peace but greedy men always want more don’t they?” She stared at Caradoc her dark eyes boring into his.
“You have some spirit Brenna, I like that but I sense there is something more between you and the centurion here?” He looked at Varro who reddened slightly.
“Are we also to discuss our relationships as well today?” She asked an inkling of anger in her eyes. “You are correct,” she said before Caradoc could reply, “I have found Centurion Tiberius Varro to be a man of honour and a man of his word and yes, I have very strong feelings for him, is that a problem for you King Caradoc?”
“No, not for me, but others will not like it that you share your bed with a Roman.” He replied.
“Then tell them to say that to my face.” She said. “Now can we please talk about what we are here to discuss?”
“Very well,” he turned his attention to Varro, “please continue.”
Varro laid flat the first scroll and placed four weights from the case on the four corners, they were marked with small images of eagles. “The first detail is a greeting to you, King Caradoc from the Governor of Britannia, General Aulus Plautius, who coincidentally is due to leave these shores soon, very soon and he would like an amicable end to hostilities.” He looked up.
“And how does the General propose we go about this when he and his men,” he pointed a finger, “such as you, inhabit my land.” The atmosphere chilled slightly.
Varro removed the second scroll, “The General wishes to meet you in person to discuss the finer details. He guarantees your safety, if you agree to accompany us back to Londinium.” He saw that Caradoc was about to say something but went on. “He proposes that you are to retain the land here and that you will remain King and become an ally of Rome. He says that even the Emperor Claudius respects you and the resistance that you have garnered and demonstrated against his legions.” Varro looked up to see how Caradoc was reacting but he sat there impassively, one eyebrow raised, he waved a hand for him to continue. “As a Province of Rome, you and your people will benefit…”
“Province, I have heard this word before.” Caradoc interrupted, “Does that not contradict the term ally?” He looked at the faces around the table, Grattius shrugged, he went on, “An ally, within my meaning of the word, is an equal, a partner but this word Province has a different meaning, am I right?”
“There are many Provinces within the Empire, all living happily under the protection of Rome.” Varro said.
“And they are all left to govern their own lands, control their own populations? Rome doesn’t require payment in taxes, crops, gold and people as slaves? Rome doesn’t dig into these people’s mountains and valleys searching for rich materials to steal and take away back across the water?” Caradoc asked.
“Different Provinces have different agreements with the Senate. I couldn’t say what yours would be. That would be a matter for you and in the first instance the Governor to discuss. These talks would decide that future treaty, hence why he has asked you to meet him in person. General Plautius leaves these islands this year and he doesn’t want to return to Rome with a war still raging and Roman lives being lost. It would be to his advantage to return with a peace treaty in place or at least with discussions ongoing, a mutual agreement for both sides, where you and he are happy with the content.”
Caradoc sat back in his chair and bit the inside of his mouth, leaning forward he said, “You see Centurion Varro, this is where my people and I have a problem, Rome invaded us, we didn’t invade Rome and now because your General is going home, he wants peace. He wants to be received by Claudius, the man who caused this invasion to happen, as a hero, a hero of Rome, is that not true?”
Varro shifted in his seat, “These are the terms I have been asked to put to you. This is how Rome works,” he paused thinking, “I cannot change where we are. The rights and wrongs of the invasion of Britannia are not a part of this discussion. You can take that up with the General.”
“Albion,” Caradoc said, “this island and those around it are known by its people as Albion, not Britannia. That is a Roman word, a word that we do not recognise, maybe that is something else I would discuss in this imaginary conversation with the Roman Governor of the Roman Province of Britannia.”
“I’m certain that he would discuss any subject you would wish to be aired, any grievances you may have. Aulus Plautius is a man of honour, he is a soldier first, a politician second.” Varro replied.
“A politician, I don’t know this word, but I suspect that it means a man who has found himself in a position of power, not through his ability, but to further himself and those around him. If these politicians were there for the benefit of their people, would they tax them so much, work them so hard, whilst they live in luxury? Why aren’t all the people of the great Roman Empire equal? You have different levels in your society don’t you Centurion Varro? Whilst these people in power eat well, are warm in the winter, dress in the finest clothes and gather with their friends to rule over the greater population, how are the common people living? Is there hunger in your world? I would say from what I am told that there is. Are there entire populations sold into slavery to serve these people and their kind?” Varro attempted to answer but Caradoc continued, “Are families separated and sent to different corners of the Empire? Again the answer is yes isn’t it?” He shook his head. “You see, this is where I have a problem, we would never be equal, we would always be regarded as inferior and we would always be used like animals. The young men, what would happen to them? Is it correct you use them in your army, create legions and use them to invade other lands?” He leaned back again frowning, “You see the problems that you and this man of honour have made? Apologies, you are just soldiers as you say, following orders, your Emperor Claudius is responsible for this, he and his Senate. Tell me, did they believe that this would be a quick victory?”