Free Slaves of Fear: A Land Unconquered by James Mace Page A

powerless. The Romans had been too numerous for his warriors to make a viable stand. The Deceangli were mostly fishermen and farmers, bullied into subjugation by the far more numerous and warlike Ordovices with the promise of ‘protection’. And with the Ordovices nowhere to be found, their protectorates were left to the mercy of their enemies.
     

 
    Chapter VI: Finding the Enemy
     
    Roman Camp near Kimmel Bay
    19 June 48 A.D.
    ***
                 
    Paulinus ordered all food stores from the oppida to be taken back to camp. The stronghold was then put to the torch. It took some time for the damp timbers to ignite, and the thick columns of black smoke could be seen for twenty miles. Governor Scapula had ridden back to the Roman camp once he saw the stronghold was taken by his soldiers. His principia tent served as a tribunal in which he would meet the defeated Deceangli chieftain.
    In all, nearly three thousand prisoners were taken. Most of those captured at the stronghold were warriors. The fighting men had sent their women and children away, hoping they might escape. The sight of many of their families penned up in the crude stockades told a grim tale. The captured warriors could also assume many of their loved ones had been killed. They were kept separate from the women and children, and there was no way for anyone to know who was imprisoned, dead, or managed to escape.
     
    Scapula made certain his armour was polished, and he draped his finest deep red cloak over his left shoulder. He sat upon a three-foot dais, just large enough for his camp chair. To his right sat a five-foot pillar with a bust of Emperor Claudius atop, to his left the eagle of the Twentieth Legion and the standards of Indus Horse and the other auxilia regiments. General Paulinus, Commander Julianus, the tribunes, First Cohort centurions, and auxilia regimental commanders stood on either side of the dais.
    Elisedd and Runa and ten of their nobles were escorted into the principia. Their hands were chained in front of them. Elisedd carried his sword, resting flat on the palms of his hands. Landon walked in front of the escorting legionaries. Once they reached the dais, the Brigantes interpreter relayed the orders he had been given earlier. Elisedd was to kneel before Scapula and plant his sword point into the earth. It was terribly degrading for the proud war chief; however, he knew the option was to watch every last one of his captured warriors be crucified. The women and children would likely be sold into slavery, regardless of what their chief did. The Romans had promised to spare Runa, however, should her husband offer total submission to the empire.
    With overwhelming feelings of both humiliation and stalwart determination, Elisedd girded his dignity and knelt in front of the dais. He thrust the sword, passed down for generations, into the earth. He fought back tears as his grip lingered on the worn handle, for what he knew to be the last time. The ancient blade was now a prize of Caesar.
    The Deceangli chief took a slow breath in and exhaled quietly, composing himself. Finally he spoke, “Trwy waed fy hynafiaid, yr wyf yn tyngu ar fy mywyd sydd byth eto bydd fy mhobl yn gwneud rhyfel yn erbyn Rhufain.”
    Landon remained stoic, though he was moved by the beaten warrior’s words. He translated, “By the blood of my ancestors, I swear on my life that never again will my people make war against Rome.”
    And though Elisedd had not asked this directly, the Brigantes man decided to ask on his behalf, “What is to become of their people?”
    “War against Rome requires a measure of retribution,” Scapula explained, speaking slowly so Landon could translate. “You and your wife will be taken to Rome, where you may plead your case before the emperor. He will decide the ultimate fate of Deceangli. Your warriors, as well as their women and children, will remain hostages of Rome to ensure the good faith of your people. Understand, any