"Against what, then, Roman, do you arm yourselves?" Caius said nothing. "Answer me, Roman, and take care. " His voice was soft now. "I do not like liars. "
Caius told me later that the moment of truth that comes to each man had caught up with him then. Something inside him, he said, quailed, and he was deathly afraid to say the words he suddenly knew to be true. He had to clench his teeth and swallow to quell a surge of vomit in his throat, feeling like a small boy caught with a guilty secret. He knew what he had to say. He knew the truth.
"I am no Roman!" It came out as four toneless, disconnected words. I could not believe what I had heard. As for Ullic, he looked at Caius sardonically, his right eyebrow climbing high as Caius's own was wont to do from time to time. Then he moved his eyes slowly down the toga-draped length of the man facing him.
"Your pardon, Caius Britannicus! I cannot think how I could make such a mistake. How I could think you Roman?" He bowed slowly from the waist. "But, if you are no Roman, what are you? You're no Celt!"
"I am a Briton, as are you!"
Ullic laughed, a roaring bark of laughter. "A Briton? You? Boudicca was a Briton, man! So was Caradoc — Caractacus, your people called him!
They and their people lived only to fight the likes of you! They were Britons! You are a foreigner. An invader!"
Caius's response was immediate and vehement. "Not so. King of Pendragon! I am a Briton, born and bred of generations born here in this land. True, my name is Roman, and my loyalties, the facile ones, have been Roman — until now! And true, no Celtic blood flows in my veins. But I am of Britain by my name, Britannicus; and I am Briton by birthright!" Ullic folded his arms in front of him during this outburst which could hardly have surprised him more than it did me, and leaned his back against one of the great stones that stood behind him. His eyes were fixed on Caius.
"Huh!" he said. "All right, for the sake of argument, I will call you Briton from now on. The original Britons were a tribe of Celts, you know. Your people all but wiped them out completely. But I will call you Briton, for now. You have yet to tell me why you train an army at my door! What is it that you seek defence against?"
Caius answered him squarely. "Against the end of the world. "
"The end of the world. " I heard amusement in Ullic's tone this time.
"The Roman world. " Caius corrected himself.
"I must be dull of wit today. Explain that. "
I found myself nodding my head slowly in agreement with Caius, willing him on.
"The Roman's day is over, " he said. "The Empire cannot survive much longer. It must fall. Soon. "
Ullic shook his head, pityingly. "But how can this be, friend Briton?
Rome is Eternal. All the Romans tell us so!"
Caius shook his head. "No. Rome is finished. The day will come, soon now, when the hordes outside will venture in. Rome no longer has the strength to keep them out. "
"And? So? How does this end the world?"
I looked at him in disbelief. Was he being humorous? Or could he really fail to see beyond the fall?
"When Rome falls, the world falls, King Ullic. " Caius spoke slowly and with great deliberateness. "The law ceases to exist. The army is no more. The cities starve. Their citizens go wild. There will be nothing to protect this land of Britain from invasion by people who will make the Roman invaders seem like children at play. Not a thing. Except the strengths her people build themselves. That is why we have moved onto your borders. We didn't know you had borders, but we do know that we can hold the land we have, and we can defend it against marauders for as long as we have to. "
Ullic was silent for a space of minutes, staring Caius in the eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to look at me, and I was aware that I had not spoken since we met. And then he turned back to Caius and smiled, and he was transformed from a figure of menace to man of great appeal and charm. It was astonishing. He held out his hand to Caius, and, mystified, Caius shook with him.
"Caius Britannicus, " he said, "you may well be the first of a new race. The non-Celtic Britons. Defend your land, and you defend my back. Defend my back, and I'll protect yours, too. Cymric! Send out the signal to prepare a feast! Our meeting here is done. Now we must tell the others what we have achieved. "
Seconds later I heard the blowing of a horn and then the sounds of cheering. I was in a state of shock, as was Caius. I felt an idiotic smile painted across my face as Ullic stepped across to me, his hand outstretched. I shook with him, feeling the giant strength in his mighty fingers.
"Publius Varrus, " he said, "we will have to change your name. You should be a Celt, with the love of iron that you have. "
"King Ullic... " I rasped, my voice dry from tension.
"Ullic will do. The 'King' is for display. I will be King again later. Now is the time for eating... " He stopped, staring across my shoulder.
"Britannicus, you train your men too well. They still stand at attention. Will you not allow them to stand down?"
"In a moment. Tell me, Ullic, why did you toy with me? It's obvious you knew the answers to your questions before you ever asked them. Was this fair?"
Ullic was smiling broadly now. "Fair? You mean just? Britannicus, I did not know you! I had to take the measure of the man. Varrus I knew about. But not Caius Britannicus. You hold your counsel closely to yourself. And so do I. Thus, if I were to know you, I must meet you face to face, and at your distinct disadvantage!" He grinned a giant grin. "I have met Romans whom I truly did not like, you know. "
Caius smiled back at him, and I felt relief flooding over me like cooling water.
"We can be friends, I think, Sir King, " Caius said through a smile.
"We will be friends, I know, Sir Briton!" He placed an arm on each of our shoulders and led us out from among the stones of Stonehenge into the brightness of the morning sun.
I allowed our men to break ranks and stand down as soon as we emerged from the temple. Ullic's men had already lighted fires and were preparing food. I saw casks being unloaded from the wagons and heard voices raised in song. A party of Druids had joined the gathering and their white robes gleamed in the strong sunlight.
The remainder of the day was spent in feasting. There were footraces and contests of all kinds, including a demonstration by our men of Roman drill, swordplay and spear-throwing. The Celts were throwers, too, as well as archers, and the championship went to one of them, a skinny stretch of a man who threw a Roman pilum fifteen paces further than his nearest rival.
As the sky began to darken, a great fire was built up of logs the Celts had brought with them on a cart, for there were no trees on the empty plain. One of the Celts produced a stringed instrument much like a Roman lyre and began to play, and a Druid priest stepped forward and sang to the sound of the strings. His voice was magical — clear, vibrant and possessed of enormous strength. We were enthralled when, at one point in the song, everyone else joined in and the music soared to a great crescendo, dying off suddenly to leave the Druid's voice shining alone. They sang in their own tongue and none of us could understand a word, but we had never heard such beauty coming from human throats. Again the Druid reached that certain point, and again everyone joined in.
"What are they singing?" I asked Ullic.
"A song about our land — our mountains and our lakes. "
"It's magnificent. I must see your mountains some day. "
"You will."
"That Druid sings too well to be a priest. "
He looked at me and laughed outright. "Too well to be a priest?" He guffawed. "That's why he is a priest, man! It's their art! Druids are trained from boyhood to protect the history of our people in their songs. They are our history, Varrus... the Druids are our history! They are our pride, our bards, our singing joy in life, man. That's why they are Druids. That's why they ARE!"