Roman - The Fall of Britannia (3 page)

‘
Evocatus!’ called Pelonius.

The soldier came
over to Pelonius and they greeted each other by grasping forearms,
both veterans of the army and full of mutual respect.

‘
Hail, Gaius Pelonius,’ said the soldier, ‘I heard you had
retired. I wager thousands of Gauls sleep better in their stinking
beds knowing you have hung up your Gladius.’

‘
I
don’t know about that, friend,’ answered Pelonius, ‘there seems to
be as much blood spilt here, as there ever was on foreign
soil’.

‘
Such is the way of the world,’ said the guard. ‘How can I
help?’

‘
Where can I find the Numidian?’

‘
At
the end of the corridor,’ said the soldier, ‘the last cell on the
right.’

‘
Thanks,’ said Pelonius. ‘Call around to my estate next time
you are on leave. I have some amphorae of wine that need emptying
and a yearning to relive past glories.’

‘
Sounds good,’ said the guard before adding, ‘Pelonius, treat
him well,’ nodding toward Karim’s cell, ‘He is a good
man.’

Pelonius nodded
and walked down the corridor. He found the cell easily and watched
through the open door for a few moments, as a female slave cleansed
the Numidian’s wounds. He was sitting on a wooden cot and drinking
deeply from a jug of wine, the flickering torch light shimmering on
his wet black skin. The gladiator looked up and the two men’s eyes
met across the cell floor.

‘
Do
you know who I am, Karim?’ asked Pelonius eventually.

Karim swigged
more wine, his eyes never leaving those of the old soldier. He
nodded silently.

‘
Can
I come in?’

‘
Why
do you ask?’ asked Karim. ‘Am I not your property?’

Pelonius walked
in and sat on a stool opposite the gladiator.

‘
How
do you feel?’ he asked.

‘
I
have just killed more than twenty men and women for no reason,
except entertainment for a corrupt official and a thousand of his
ignorant cronies. How do you think I feel?’

‘
You
are a gladiator. Isn’t this what you have trained for?’

‘
I
trained to fight others such as me, not to murder
babies.’

‘
The
Governor is not a happy man.’

‘
I
am beyond caring. I have shed enough blood for a hundred men in a
hundred lifetimes.’

‘
So
why do you do it?’

‘
What other option is there? If I refuse, I would be one more
piece of meat for the stinking lions that share these cells, and as
you pointed out, I am a gladiator. If I let myself die without
fighting, my shade will wander as Lemures for all time.’

Silence
fell.

‘
So,
am I to be freed?’ asked Karim eventually.

‘
What would you do if you were?’

Karim
shrugged.

‘
Probably get drunk, hurt someone and end up back in the arena
as Noxii. Who knows?’

‘
Then I have a deal for you, Karim,’ said Pelonius. ‘I cannot
free you, Sibelus has ensured that, but I can give you a life away
from the arena.’

Karim stared in
silence, waiting for Pelonius to continue.

‘
Just before I came back from Gemina,’ continued Pelonius, ‘I
prevented some jumped up officer from being killed in an ambush by
Germanic tribesmen. It turned out that he was the cousin of
Tiberius. When I returned, I was paraded as a hero through the
streets of Rome, and they gave me a farm that takes half a day to
ride across.’

‘
And?’ asked Karim.

‘
I
am no farmer, Karim, I am a soldier. If it isn’t managed properly,
I’ll be bankrupt in six months or probably lose it in a crooked
dice game to that shit Sibelus. I cannot free you, but I can make
you my farm prefect.’

‘
What do I know about farming?’

‘
Perhaps nothing, but I have workers who have tilled that land
all their lives and we can buy any extra labour and expertise we
may need.’

‘
You
mean slaves!’

‘
We
would offer a future that is by far preferable to that offered by
the beasts of the arena. You and I are the same, Karim. We know
only the sword, but farming is like anything else, and can be
learned. What I need is someone who can command respect from my
staff and is not afraid to dish out discipline where needed. I also
need someone who I can trust. I believe you are that
man.’

‘
You
would trust a murderer.’

‘
I
would trust a gladiator.’ Again, there was silence.

‘
If
I say no?’

‘
You
can stay here and continue to kill for the entertainment of lesser
men, but if you come with me, the work will be hard and the days
long, but at least you will have a warm bed at night, food in your
belly and a modest salary at the end of each month. The choice is
yours.’

‘
When do you need to know?’

Pelonius
laughed.

‘
Do
you really need time to consider, Karim? I am offering you a life
of normality and peace against one of death and violence. I have
been a soldier most of my life and have killed more men than I care
to remember. I know which one is better, Karim. Trust me, there is
no contest here.’

Suddenly, a
commotion broke out in the gloomy corridor and both men hurried out
to see the source. A group of well-armed guards stood in the
corridor, as another dragged a woman by her hair from her
cell.

‘
Stop!’ shouted Pelonius. ‘What is going on?’

‘
Don’t interfere old man,’ said one of the guards, ‘you no
longer serve and have no authority here.’

Pelonius
recognised the woman from the arena.

‘
Where are you taking her?’ he asked, his tone a bit calmer,
trying not to inflame the situation.

‘
She
has an appointment with Sibelus,’ said the soldier. ‘After all, she
just cost him a lot of money.’ The screaming continued as the
soldier resumed his task.

‘
Wait!’ shouted Pelonius again, his mind thinking furiously.
‘What of the child? Surely he has no use of the baby?’

For a moment,
the soldier looked at the woman clutching her baby tightly to her
bosom. Sibelus had not mentioned the baby and not even his
perverted tastes sank that low. He shrugged.

‘
What of it?’

‘
I
will give you ten Denarii for him.’

‘
He
is not mine to sell.’

‘
No,
but surely he will not be missed. If the governor asks, I will
return him to you and no one will ever know of our
deal.’

The soldier
hesitated.

‘
Ten
Denarii,’ repeated Pelonius.

‘
I
don’t know,’

‘
Fifty Denarii,’ interjected Karim quietly.

Everyone looked
at the gladiator in astonishment.

‘
Where would you get such an amount?’ asked the
soldier.

‘
Being a gladiator is a lucrative career, as long as you stay
alive,’ said Karim. ‘I have won many purses. Most have gone on wine
and women but I have some money left. I will pay fifty Denarii for
the child.’

The terrified
woman looked on in fear. Though she could not understand the
conversation, she realised that something important was happening
regarding her fate.

‘
Agreed,’ said the soldier finally, ‘but if he asks, the child
will be returned to me.’

Karim walked
toward the woman and spoke gently, indicating she should give him
the baby. The woman slowly realised that her future as a slave held
little hope; the day’s events had proved that. This man had already
spared her once and she had no reason to believe he had suddenly
changed his mind. Her eyes filled with tears and she held her baby
tight for the last time, smothering it with kisses. All present
were silent as she said her goodbyes and taking an embroidered
leather pendant from around her neck, she placed it around the neck
of the baby, tears streaming down her face.

‘
Enough!’ said the guard, ‘Sibelus is waiting.’

Karim took the
child in his giant hands.

‘
Prydain,’ the woman said through her tears in her strange
language, ‘Prydain.’

‘
Prydain,’ repeated Karim, ‘I will look after him,’

She let the baby
go, realising this might be his only chance of survival.

‘
Let’s go,’ said the guard and taking her by the arm, roughly
escorted her from the cells. This time, she did not
struggle.

Pelonius stared
at the giant gladiator, the tiny baby seemingly out of place in his
still bloody arms. Karim looked at the baby for a long time, before
eventually meeting the ex-soldier’s gaze.

‘
Is
the offer still open?’ he asked.

‘
Why
wouldn’t it be?’ asked Pelonius.

‘
Now
there are two mouths to feed.’

Pelonius paused,
realising just how enormous this man was close up.

‘
Well, you’ll have to work that much harder,’ he said,
offering his sword arm in the recognised gesture of agreement.
Karim grasped the offered forearm in his own hand and sealed the
deal.

‘
I
will pick you up from the Ludus at first light,’ said Pelonius. ‘Be
ready.’

‘
We
will,’ said Karim.

----

An hour later,
the cells were silent. Any surviving occupants had been returned to
their owners and an army of slaves had built a bonfire in the empty
arena to burn the corpses from the games.

The slave girl
was bathing the baby.

‘
What is his name?’ asked the girl quietly, after she had laid
the baby down to sleep.

‘
Prydain,’ said Karim, ‘and it seems our fates are
entwined.’

‘
You
intend to bring him up as your own?’

‘
It
would seem so. Indeed this is a strange fate the Gods have set
before me. This morning, I thought this would be my last day under
this sun, yet here I am hours later, a farmer with a ready-made
son. I know nothing about farming, which is a damn sight more than
I know about children. This is going to be the hardest challenge I
have ever faced.’

He looked down
at the sleeping baby. Prydain stirred gently in his sleep,
blissfully unaware that less than a mile away in a back room of a
palatial villa, his mother was screaming his name one last time
before she died at the hands of Governor Sibelus
Augusta.

----

Chapter
1

Britannia 42 AD

‘
At
last!’ thought Gwenno, seeing the wagon train exit the woods in the
distance. She finished her daisy chain and placed it around her
brow before adding a buttercup behind her ear as an afterthought.
Jumping to her feet, she brushed down her white linen dress. She
had nagged all morning to be allowed to wear it for her father’s
return and her mother had finally relented. Gwenno knew she was
very lucky to own two dresses; one wool, like every other female of
the tribe and this one, a finer linen toga that her father had
traded from one of the merchants on the east coast.

Gwenno loved the
dress, and although she knew someone else before her had probably
worn it, it was her prize possession. Only the wealthy could afford
to have such a garment made just for them and when her father had
told her it had cost him a brand new knife, she was overwhelmed by
his generosity. It was a very simple summer outfit and the thirteen
year old looked beautiful, though it could be said she would look
beautiful in anything. Her long blonde hair shone in the sunlight,
complimenting the polished bronze Torc around her neck and the
silver bracelets adorning both wrists.

‘
One
day,’ she had vowed to her mother on many occasions as she grew up,
‘my Torc will be gold!’

Her mother had
smiled sweetly on these occasions. It was every girl’s dream to
marry one of the princes of the tribes, but the simple fact was,
there were too many girls and not enough princes.

Gwenno waited
patiently at the wooden bridge across the man-made moat circling
the village until finally, she could contain her excitement no
longer.

‘
Father!’ she called loudly and ran down to meet the
riders.

‘
Hello, child,’ boomed her father’s voice, ‘what have I told
you about that dress? It is far too short for the company of
men.’

‘
Oh,
Tad,’ she smiled, ‘stop being so old.’ Secretly she stole a glance
back down the column, wondering if a certain young man had also
noticed her pretty dress.

Erwyn dismounted
and led his horse by the bridle. Gwenno took his arm and skipped
delightedly by his side.

‘
You
have been gone ages,’ she said, ‘I had almost given up
waiting.’

‘
These days, the Cornovii are far better at hiding their
herds,’ laughed her father. ‘They are learning fast.’