Roman - The Fall of Britannia (49 page)

‘
Me?’ asked Gwenno incredulously, ‘But…’

‘
But
nothing,’ said Gwydion, ‘it is your birth right. Erwyn had no sons,
so you are his rightful successor. One day I will place this Torc
around your neck as a sign of your authority.’

‘
What do I know about leadership?’ she asked.

‘
Nothing that I cannot teach you,’ he said, ‘but the time for
such things is later. Until then, there is unfinished business to
be addressed here.’

‘
What business?’

He swept her up
into his arms and kissed her deeply.

Gwenno returned
the kiss until she finally broke away to catch her
breath.

‘
I
suppose,’ she said, ‘that within the very near future, I will not
be such an attraction to the Druids.’

‘
What do you mean?’ asked Gwydion.

‘
Well, all their sacrifices need to be pure of body,’ she said
with a mischievous smile. ‘Am I right in assuming that label will
be denied me very soon?’

‘
Your assumption is correct,’ he said with a smile and carried
her over to the stream, laying her gently on a patch of lush grass
lit by the sun’s rays as it shone between the ancient
oaks.

‘
Make it special, Gwydion,’ whispered Gwenno as he disrobed
before her. ‘We will remember this moment forever.’

----

Chapter 47

The twelve
surviving leaders of the Catuvellauni clans lined up outside the
gates of Camulodunum. They were dressed in their finest armour and
flanked by five hundred horsemen as they awaited the arrival of the
Romans. Behind them, two thousand infantry warriors stood in
disciplined ranks, each bearing their tribal shields and standards.
Behind them, the entire population of the city had gathered to
watch the ceremony.

Rebellon looked
around at the remainder of the mighty Catuvellauni tribe and
realised that it was still an awesome sight.

‘
Who
knows?’ he thought. ‘When they see this show of strength, the
Romans may even realise that they are out of their depth and
retreat to the safety of their boats.’

Whatever
happened, the tribal leaders had decided that they would not accept
any terms that disadvantaged the Catuvellauni, and if necessary,
would take them on in battle before the gates of the city.
Rebellion’s reverie was suddenly shattered by the long drawn out
sound of a horn as it blasted across the valley from a lone rider
high on a hill, and the gathering of over ten thousand Britons fell
quiet. For a few seconds, nothing changed until someone shouted out
from the gathered people.

‘
Over there, look, horses are coming.’

At first
Rebellon was unimpressed, but as events unfolded, his jaw dropped
in awe.

First, were the
Batavian cavalry, galloping from the trees and lining the vale on
either side. They formed a perimeter three deep and as soon as they
were settled, the auxiliary Cohorts, dressed in their armour, ran
into position, resplendent in their finery.

A deep rhythm
echoed around the open expanse and the heavy infantry of the
legions marched into the centre, to the beat of a thousand drums.
Ten thousand men formed a half-mile long honour guard, every inch
of their uniform spotlessly clean and gleaming in the
sun.

Again, the sound
of horns rang out, though this time magnified a hundred fold, as
the combined horns of three legions trumpeted their
fanfare.

Rebellon stared,
expecting to see the Roman leader approach, but was confused when
he saw only a dozen men emerge from the tree line, running toward
the Catuvellauni, each with a large dog on the end of a leash. He
looked in interest, but suddenly realised they were not dogs, but
giant cats.

----

The leopard
handlers ran the full length of the escort and spread out along the
front of the Catuvellauni leaders. Rebellon and his fellow
tribesmen were astonished. The snarling beasts wore collars of
gleaming gold while the jet-black skin of every handler was draped
in the brilliant white furs of animals unknown to the Celts. Every
member of the watching tribe was in awe of the display, but what
came next blew their minds.

A cacophony of
sound erupted from the trees causing every Briton to stare in
fright at the unseen terror. Even the leopards pulled nervously at
their gilded chains, as the unearthly bellowing reached a
crescendo, and when it seemed that, there could be no more
surprises, the source of the bellowing revealed itself.

From beneath the
canopy of the surrounding woods emerged the most terrifying beast
Rebellon had ever seen. The enormous animal plodded forward into
the clearing, his tusks swooping low to the floor as he swung his
head from side to side. Draped in a chain mail coat, the male
tusker had lethal, multi pointed tips attached to his tusks and
within a walled platform high on the animals back, four African
warriors brandished their spears and bows in a display of awesome
might, the Britons could never have dreamed of. If this was not
enough, a further thirty African elephants followed behind, each as
magnificent as the first and adding their trumpeting calls to the
cacophony.

A Cohort of
Praetorian Guard followed and lined the avenue of soldiers, their
bronze ceremonial armour, almost blinding in the morning sunlight,
and as the noise finally died down a column of young girls dressed
in pure white robes followed them in, scattering rose petals along
the path.

At last came the
moment they had been waiting for, and to a final fanfare of
trumpets, one more elephant entered the field, but this was unlike
any that had come previously. Though it was smaller, it was twice
as striking, and even though the blanket that hung from the
platform was royal purple, it could not take away the effect of the
pure white skin of the albino elephant.

One man sat
alone within the canopied platform upon the elephants back, and the
awe inspiring display of strength, designed to install shock and
awe into any that witnessed it, served its purpose, as the leaders
of the Catuvellauni finally realised that resistance of any sort
was futile.

The man
descended from the kneeling elephant via a gilded stairway, carried
by a dozen slaves especially for this purpose and settled himself
on an ornately carved chair surrounded by a unit of Praetorian
Guard. At a signal from an accompanying senator, the Catuvellauni
leaders were summoned forward one by one to bend their knee before
the most powerful man in the world, Claudius, Emperor of
Rome.

Within the hour,
the ceremony had ended, the Catuvellauni subjugated and the country
absorbed into the mighty Roman Empire.

----

Contents

The year was 43
AD, and to all intents and purposes, Britannia had fallen, but
despite the celebrations, General Plautius was subdued. Already he
was hearing of other tribes right across this strange country,
gathering their warriors and sharpening their weapons to confront
his four legions.

Claudius could
crow all he liked, and no doubt would soak up the plaudits back in
Rome for conquering a complete country in her name, but Plautius
knew different. He knew that a lot more Roman blood would stain
this country’s soil before they could even begin to believe they
were the victors. There were no doubt, treasures to be uncovered,
the tribute already paid was evidence of that, but he knew that
they would not be surrendered easily. The barbarians were ill
disciplined, but they were also fearless, and should anyone take
the initiative to forge them into a united army, then Rome’s
occupation of Britannia could be very short lived.

He knew it was
his job to ensure that did not happen and was impatient for
Claudius to leave so he could start his campaign in earnest. He
needed to find the missing Caratacus and kill him if necessary and
there was the matter of those troublesome Druids that he had been
hearing about. They seemed to have an influence over everything and
everyone in this cold and misty land and could provide a dangerous
focal point for barbarian resistance given the chance. Both threats
had to be dealt with and he would make it his personal mission to
deal with them once and for all, but despite his focus there were
two other facts unknown to him at that time.

One was that a
little known tribe called the Silures in a strange area of
Britannia called the Khymru had just slaughtered a complete Cohort.
The second fact, and one he could never have imagined, was that
less than a hundred miles to the north was a far greater threat
than Caratacus had ever been.

This was no
six-foot battle hardened warrior; this was an unassuming mother of
two with no intention of opposing the Romans. On the contrary, she
wanted a quiet life in which to bring up her two beautiful
daughters and as wife to Prasatagus, chief of one of the smaller
tribes was happy, along with her husband to accept the presence of
the Romans.

However,
unbeknownst to her or indeed anyone else, fate would intervene and
make this woman a pivotal figure around which the entire Roman
occupation of Britannia would revolve. Her name was Boudicca, queen
of the Iceni.

This was not an
end for Plautius, but just the beginning.

****

The End

Author’s Notes

The Roman Invasion of
Britain

Rome did indeed
successfully invade Britain in 43 AD after two previously
unsuccessful attempts by Julius Caesar.

The battles

Though there
were many, many battles, two of the most famous and strategically
important were the battles of the river Medway and the battle of
the river Thames. Caratacus’s and his army were taken by surprise
when the Batavian auxiliaries fell on them from the rear, having
swum the river with full weapons and equipment, a skill they were
famed for. Eventually, after winning both battles, the Romans took
Colchester (Camulodunum) the capital of Britannia at the
time.

The defending tribes

It is believed
that the Romans initially fought the Catuvellauni. It is thought
that Togodumnus may have been killed at the battle of Medway, while
his brother, King Caratacus, escaped westward into Wales where he
travelled south to join the Silures tribe.

Roman Life

All training
methods, weapons and tactics depicted in this book are typical for
the time.

Claudius

Claudius himself
came to Britannia to ceremoniously accept the surrender of
Britannia and there is evidence that war elephants were present on
British soil, either in battle or possibly for ceremonial
duties.

More Books by K. M.
Ashman

The India Sommers
Mysteries

The Dead Virgins

The Treasures of
Suleiman

The Mummies of the
Reich

The Roman Trilogy

Roman I – The Fall of
Britannia

Roman II – The Rise of
Caratacus

Roman III – The Wrath of
Boudicca

Novels

Savage Eden

The Last Citadel

Vampire

The Medieval
Trilogy

Medieval I – Blood of the
Cross

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