Roman - The Fall of Britannia (10 page)

‘
Guard, cut out twenty of the best horses and have them
delivered to the Blaidd by nightfall tomorrow.’ He tossed Gwydion
the purse containing the gold. ‘I have no need of your money,
Gwydion,’ he said, ‘but I may have need of someone like you. Now,
take your leave!’

‘
You
have the gratitude of my clan, Sire,’ said Gwydion and turned to
leave. Just as he was about to walk through the door he turned
again to face the warrior.

‘
Forgive me my ignorance, Sire,’ he said, ‘but you have me at
a disadvantage, you know my name, but I know not yours.’

Owen stepped
forward.

‘
Gwydion of the Blaidd,’ he said, ‘you address Idwal of the
Deceangli. Now be gone, for we have business to attend.’

Gwydion was led
away to his horse, picking up his weapons on the way, dumbstruck
that he had actually just met Idwal, famed leader and true blood
warrior King of the Deceangli.

----

Chapter
5

Cassus knew he
was in trouble long before he opened his eyes. Subconsciously, he
knew there should be pain, but something told him that if he just
stayed still, he wouldn’t have to face it. A disgusting smell
forced itself into his nostrils, making him gag and he lay still,
not quite sure where he was or what had happened. A distant voice
forced its way through his foggy senses.

‘
Wake up,’ said Prydain, ‘Cassus, come on, we have to
go.’

‘
Go
away,’ grunted Cassus, though the words that emerged bore no
resemblance to those intended.

‘
Cassus you have to wake up now,’ insisted Prydain quietly.
When again there was little response, Prydain looked around in
desperation, his eyes falling on the water pitcher. Picking it up,
he hesitated for a second before pouring the contents over his
semi-comatose friend.

The effect was
instant, and Cassus would have screamed had his throat not been so
dry and his tongue as woolly as a camel’s scrotum. He forced
himself up off the floor and onto his knees, gasping to catch his
breath.

‘
What the fuck,’ he gasped, struggling to form the
words.

‘
Come on!’ hissed Prydain. ‘We have to be at the circus at
dawn so shift your arse.’

Cassus’s brain
slowly started to make sense of the situation. He put his hand
gingerly to his hair. It was sticky and matted to his head. He
groaned as he realized the source of the smell. He had thrown up in
his sleep and his head was covered in vomit.

‘
Water!’ he gasped.

‘
I
think not,’ said Prydain. ‘That’s good old fashioned
puke.’

‘
No,’ he croaked, ‘I need water.’

Prydain looked
around again, but he had poured the only water available over
Cassus. He peered inside the jug.

‘
There’s some left,’ he said, ‘but not much.’

Cassus snatched
it from Prydain’s hands, holding it up high as he drained the last
few precious mouthfuls.

‘
Get
me more,’ he ordered, holding the jug up.

‘
No
time,’ said Prydain, ‘we have to go.’

‘
Do
as you’re told, Prydain,’ he said. ‘There is plenty of time. The
circus is only around the corner.’ He pinched the bridge of his
nose between his fingers and blew the contents onto the floor,
following it up with a drawn back cough to clear his airways. He
looked up at Prydain, who was obviously in a state only slightly
better than himself. Prydain was wrapped in a garment of fine blue
silk that hung down past his knees and gathered in around his waist
with his leather belt in an attempt to make it seem as manly as
possible.

‘
Why
are you wearing a Peplos?’ croaked Cassus, staring at the female
garment.

‘
Oh,
you noticed,’ said Prydain with a grimace. ‘She’s got mine on.’ He
indicated the other side of the room with a nod. ‘And I daren’t
wake her - I don’t think we’ve got enough money left to pay her
bill.’

Cassus followed
his gaze, his memory still struggling to recall the details. A
beautiful woman lay sleeping on a double bed, tangled in the
remains of Prydain’s ripped toga. Alongside her and dominating the
rest of the bed was another figure, hidden beneath an embroidered
damask blanket, snoring loudly and completely oblivious to the
noise in the bedroom.

‘
Who
are they?’ asked Cassus.

‘
One
of them,’ said Prydain, ‘is a high class whore and the other my
dear Cassus, is your new fiancée.’

Cassus looked at
Prydain in horror, appalled at the mirth on his face.

‘
Fiancée,’ he said, ‘what do you mean fiancée?’

‘
Easy enough,’ said Prydain, ‘you were adamant you wouldn’t
pay good money for a woman, and by the end of the night, there
weren’t that many left. The only way that one would sleep with you,
was when you insisted you were madly in love with her and proposed
in front of the whole tavern.’

‘
Oh
shit,’ said Cassus, looking back at the pile of tangled cloth.
‘What’s she like?’

As if in answer,
the sleeping figure lifted a hidden leg and let out an almighty
fart.

‘
What do you think?’ asked Prydain, trying hard not to laugh.
‘Put it this way, Cassus, even Hannibal would have had difficulty
getting this one over the Alps.’

‘
Oh
shit!’ gasped Cassus again, his stare never leaving the now
stirring silhouette of the overweight girl. ‘By the Gods, Prydain,
get me out of here before she wakes up.’

Prydain pulled
Cassus up from the floor, turning his head from the
smell.

‘
Don’t expect any sympathy from the Gods, Cassus,’ he said.
‘You smell like Pluto’s stinking arsehole.’

Cassus knelt to
look under the bed frame.

‘
What are you looking for?’ asked Prydain.

‘
My
tunic,’ came the muffled reply, ‘it must be here
somewhere.’

‘
She
probably ate it,’ said Prydain, and they both broke down into fits
of giggles, like a couple of schoolboys.

‘
Cassus?’ the overweight girl gurgled as she started to wake.
The smiles dropped from their faces. They both stayed frozen to the
spot, hoping that their stillness would fool her into falling back
asleep.

‘
Cassus, my love,’ she said again. ‘Is that you?’

Cassus stood up
slowly and stared at Prydain, a look of panic in his
eyes.

‘
Say
something!’ mouthed Prydain silently.

‘
Yes, my love?’ said Cassus eventually, his eyes never leaving
his friend, who now had his hand over his own mouth to stop himself
laughing, ‘I’m just going to get us a drink of fresh
water.’

‘
Come back to bed,’ she said and started to untangle herself
from the bed sheets.

‘
Oh
shit,’ exclaimed Cassus one more time, ‘let’s get out of
here.’

They both turned
to run from the room, getting in each other’s way as they rushed to
get through the doorway.

Downstairs, two
slave girls were on their knees, scrubbing the tavern floor in the
pre-dawn lamp light, cleaning up the mess from what had obviously
been a particularly busy night. Anyone else may have stared at the
sight as the two young men walked quickly across the tavern, but
these girls had seen many things in this dubious part of Rome, and
the sight of two men, one in a woman’s gown and the other naked
except for a discreetly held sandal covering his modesty raised
little interest.

----

Chapter
6

The recruitment
officers at the Circus Maximus had paid them and a thousand others
a retainer of twenty Denarii each to cover travel expenses, and
they were informed that they must be at their training camp in
northern Gaul in two months. Cassus and Prydain had found a local
fishing boat willing to take them to Gallia Narbonensis, and though
the sea was relatively calm, the swell ensured that Cassus spent
most of the two days with his head hanging over the rail, retching
his stomach contents into the blue Mediterranean Sea.

When they
finally arrived and asked about Perre, they were told that he was
due back in a week, bringing with him a laden ship from the trading
ports of Gaul. They relaxed in the sunshine while they waited and
enjoyed the hospitality of the locals, until a few days later than
expected, the biggest trade ship either of them had ever seen,
sailed into the port. Compared to the sleek, racing dog profile of
a Trireme, this was more reminiscent of a well-fed bull, and
obviously much better at withstanding the onslaught of the seas.
Teams of slaves unloaded the hold, surrounded by a throng of
excited locals, keen to see what was contained on the fully laden
ship, even before the crew had had time to rest from their arduous
voyage.

Cassus and
Prydain shouldered their way through the crowd, eager to meet the
man recommended by Marcus. Finally, they reached someone who seemed
in charge and asked if he was Perre.

‘
Me,
Perre?’ roared the man in laughter,’ I think not. You obviously
don’t know him.’

‘
Where can I find him?’ asked Cassus.

‘
I
don’t know,’ said the man. ‘He was first to disembark hours ago,
though I would venture that a good place to start looking would be
the taverns.’

‘
What does he look like?’ asked Prydain.

‘
Trust me, you will know him,’ said the man, and turned away,
still laughing to himself.

They walked to
the nearby town and started asking around the numerous taverns.
Despite their concerns, it took less than an hour to locate Perre,
though they heard him long before they set eyes on him.

‘
You
cheating sons of pigs,’ roared a voice as they approached another
tavern. ‘Come back here or I’ll cut your balls off and turn them
into tiny purses for high class whores!’

Three terrified
men ran out of the tavern, ducking as a chair passed closely above
their heads, followed by the remains of a table. Suddenly the
biggest, fiercest man, Cassus had ever seen, filled the doorway,
throwing a half-full amphora after the rapidly retreating
men.

‘
That has to be him,’ said Cassus, and Prydain nodded in
silent agreement, overawed at the huge bear of a man in front of
him. Perre was enormous. His hair was long and unruly, falling
about his head like a thorn bush and his matted beard fell to his
chest. He was dressed in woven leggings tucked into knee-length
leather boots and his waistcoat, also made of leather, was open,
exposing his muscular chest to the world. A belt fell from one
shoulder to the opposite waist and contained two skinning knives
sitting snugly within inbuilt pockets. Insults followed the
furniture until he realized the two young men were watching
him.

‘
Got
a problem?’ he asked aggressively.

‘
No,
Sir,’ answered Cassus, ‘we are looking for someone called
Perre.’

‘
Who
wants him?’

Cassus gave him
the introductory note from Marcus and Perre read it while drinking
deeply from another amphora.

‘
Do
you have money?’ he asked eventually.

‘
We
do!’

‘
Good. Can you play dice?’

‘
Not
really.’

‘
Even better,’ he said, his temper receding as fast as it had
risen, ‘come with me.’

He disappeared
into the tavern where staff was busy cleaning up the aftermath of a
fight. Perre threw a leather purse onto the table as he passed the
landlord.

‘
Cover it?’ he asked as he passed, not waiting for an
answer.

‘
Yes,’ sighed the landlord, picking up the purse, obviously
familiar with the behaviour of the Gaul.

‘
More wine!’ roared the giant, and sat down in one of the
remaining chairs, its legs creaking beneath his weight.

‘
Dice!’ he said, more of an order than invitation.

‘
We
were hoping to do business,’ said Cassus.

‘
Dice first,’ said Perre, ‘talk later.’

‘
I’ll wait over there,’ said Prydain, pointing to the bar. He
had little enough money as it was and certainly couldn’t risk
losing it in a dice game. Cassus, on the other hand, had cashed in
one of his father’s notes and had money to spare.

‘
Have a word with your friend;’ said the barman quietly, ‘it
would be better for all of us if he loses.’

‘
He
needs no help from me,’ said Prydain, ‘his arrogance will ensure a
suitable outcome.’

Sure enough,
Perre’s laughter signalled his luck was in and soon, he had relaxed
enough to talk business.

‘
So,
you want to go to Gaul,’ he stated eventually.

‘
We
do,’ said Cassus, ‘and we were told you are the man that can take
us there.’

‘
I
could, but why would I want to?’ he asked.

Cassus peeled
off one of the promissory notes given to him by his father and laid
it on the table.