The Forgotten Legion

'How could I forget?' Brac could still picture warriors returning laden with Roman weapons and supplies, giddy with success.

Transalpine Gaul had been under the Republic's control for over sixty years and large numbers of troops were permanently stationed near its towns. The Allobroges' final victory, thanks to their guerrilla attacks from the safety of the forest, had been most unusual. And it had come at a high price, something few of the men seemed to have considered.

'Perhaps Caradoc can see what will happen,' Brennus muttered. 'Is it better to die free than to flee our lands like cowards?'

'What was that?'

'Nothing, lad. Get the fire going. Got a hunger on me like a bear after winter.'

Brac had so much to learn and as his oldest male relative, it was Brennus' job to teach him. As he began butchering the deer, the big warrior prayed the gods would allow him to complete the task as well as protecting his wife and child, the only people more important to him than Brac and his family. Thoughts of fleeing with them over the mountains before any fighting seemed weak, but, like defeat, flight was inevitable. In Brennus' mind, certain death awaited any who stayed to fight the Romans. Caradoc had persuaded the warriors otherwise. Concerned and frustrated, Brennus had approached the tribe's druid for help some time before, but Ultan would not get involved. And as expected, Caradoc had refused even to consider leading his people to safety. 'The Allobroges do not run like dogs!' he had roared. 'We will crush the legions. Teach Rome a lesson it will not forget!' Brennus had persisted and a threatening look had entered the old chieftain's eyes. Wary of Caradoc's evil temper, he had sworn his loyalty and not spoken of the matter in public again, even to his friends. Only talk of fighting the Romans was permitted.

The stand-off with Caradoc had made Brennus' decision easier. Using the hunt as a practice run, he would gather the two families upon his return and leave immediately. Liath and Brac's mother knew of the plan, but Brennus had decided not to tell his cousin until the very last moment. Still naive, Brac might inadvertently reveal the plan to another warrior.

The men worked in silence, gutting the deer, slicing meat into thin strips and hanging it from the racks. One leg was fixed to a spit and suspended over the fire. Soon after the sun had set, the clearing was full of the smell of roasting flesh. The dogs sat close by, knowing they would eventually get something.

By the time the pair had eaten, the moon had risen. Mountain air began to cool fast. They huddled closer, wrapped in blankets, dogs chewing bones at their feet.

'Second-best place in the world up here.' Brennus waved a hand at the panorama, belching contentedly. The moon hung above nearby mountains, casting a beautiful light on the snowy peaks. Only the reassuring crackle of burning logs broke the silence. 'Good day's hunting, then a belly full of meat by a warm fire.'

'Where 's the best place to be?' Brac asked curiously.

'Under the blankets with your woman of course!'

Brac blushed and changed the subject. 'Tell me a story about the time before the Romans came.'

Brennus was happy to oblige. Recounting long tales about hunting or cattle raids was one of his favourite pastimes and popular with everyone in the village. He launched straight into the story of the biggest wolf ever killed by an Allobroge.

Brac's face lit up.

'The winter of ten years ago was one of the hardest in living memory,' began Brennus. 'The heavy blizzards drove packs of starving wolves down from the forests. With nothing to eat, they began to prey on our penned cattle every night. But none of the warriors dared go out to hunt them.' He shrugged expressively. 'The snow was waist deep and there were rarely less than twenty of the creatures together.'

His cousin looked round the clearing nervously.

'Within a month, dozens of cows had been killed. Then an old man collecting firewood was attacked at the edge of the forest and Conall, your father, had had enough. With my help, he worked for days making large traps.'

'And you caught plenty!' Brac's eyes shone and he rubbed the long canine tooth hanging from a leather thong round his neck.

Brennus nodded. 'Five in as many nights. The wolves quickly became more cautious and people 's spirits rose. But it was not long before the pack's alpha male and a few others began to return, killing a beast with each visit. They had become far too clever to take the bait in the cages and men began to say that they were evil spirits.'

'Ultan says they were too scared to help.'

Brennus raised his eyebrows, taking a drink from his water carrier.

'Conall and I talked. There was no question of following the wolves into the woods. Up there the drifts were deeper than a man. So the next night Conall tied an old cow to a stake outside the palisade. There was no moon, just a few stars. He wouldn't let me stay with him. Said I was too young.' Brennus grinned, fondly remembering the man who had taught him everything he knew about weaponry. His own father had died when he was only an infant. 'So I sat on the walkway with my bow and a hidden torch.'

'Where was Father?' Brac had heard the story a thousand times but always asked.

'Wrapped in a fur cloak and deep in a snowdrift, close by the ox. It was a long, cold wait.'

'Half the night, he said.'

The big warrior nodded. 'Of course the cow smelt the wolves first and began bellowing like mad. Conall stayed calm and waited, as a good hunter always does. I could see nothing at all from my position.' Brennus lifted a hand to his eyes, squinting dramatically into the darkness. 'Then suddenly they appeared: seven grey shadows creeping across the ice.'

Brac shivered with delight.

'The alpha male came in fast, going straight for the kill. I quickly planted the torch on the battlements to give me light, but the wolves were so hungry that they didn't even pause.'

'Father said you roared like devils were after you,' laughed Brac.

'Of course I did! They'd have smelt him any moment.' Brennus shuddered. 'One man against that many wolves wouldn't stand a chance.'

'He jumped up and you had already killed three with arrows.'

Brennus shrugged. 'His task was far more dangerous. As I shot the third beast, Conall took the head off a fourth and maimed another, leaving only the leader and his mate. They were savaging the poor cow. I killed the female and managed to draw a bead on the male just as he turned to face Conall. They were only twenty paces apart, far enough for me to loose safely. But your father yelled at me to hold. "The bastard's mine!" he said.'

There was silence for a moment.

Brennus stared at Brac. 'He was the bravest man I have ever known. That wolf was as big as a bear and Conall had no shield and no armour. Just his sword and a hunting knife.'

Brac rocked to and fro, barely able to contain his excitement.

'The wolf kept darting in, trying to knock him over, but Conall kept it at bay with ease, waiting for a chance. Then he slipped on the snow and fell flat on his back, losing his sword. Before I could react, the alpha male leapt into the air.' Brennus' voice dropped. 'It was going to rip his throat out.'

He paused and Brac's grip on the tooth tightened.

'Somehow Conall drew his dagger and turned it upwards with both hands. The blade went straight through the wolf 's heart as it landed.'

'You thought he was dead!'

'Seemed that way until he pushed the body off,' replied Brennus with a smile. 'I've never been so relieved.'

'Father always said he could never have done it without you. The only one who would help.'

'It was nothing,' Brennus muttered awkwardly.

'It meant a lot to him. And me.'

Brennus quickly looked away.

'Tell me another,' said Brac, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but it was the wrong thing to say.