The Cross and the Emperor

By Gregory A Sweeting

This historical novel purports to take place shortly after the crucifixion of Jesus Christ by Pontius Pilate, the Roman Governor of Judea, somewhere around 33 AD after Jesus had sent His disciples into the world. He instructed them to preach the Good News of Salvation to everyone they met. Dedicated and sincere men and women rose to the occasion and, often at great risk to themselves, took the Gospel all over the Roman world.

Drawing liberally from British folklore, actual historical legend, and using some of the familiar names from The Bible, this story suggests one way that God might have ensured that the Gospel was brought to Wales and its people.

As in any good novel, there are heroes and adversaries which weave the threads of the story together. The Welsh warrior, Caradog ap Bran, is our hero. It is imagined that he might have been joined by a couple of familiar people from the Biblical record to bring the Good News to Wales. Interposing an element of the supernatural into the story adds a layer of intrigue to the novel and proposes that we have been in an invisible spiritual battle ever since Time began.

It is my prayer that The Spirit of God will then take the seed that has been planted though this story of fiction, sprinkled with doses of reality and use it for His glory, creating in the reader an interest to find out more from the Source and The Message of the Holy Bible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jun 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781512786644

Gregory A Sweeting

Bahamian born Gregory Sweeting is the son-in-law of a prominent Welsh evangelist and author, William Davies. After a career in the life insurance industry, he is now retired. He and his wife now travel between the Bahamas, Wales and the USA, where their three children and seven grandchildren live. For many years he hosted a weekly nation-wide radio for their church; they owned and operated a large Christian bookshop in Nassau until it closed. During their many visits to Wales, he developed a love and a fascination for Wales, the land of his wife’s birth. Greg became very interested in the Roman occupation of Great Britain and especially the impact that the Romans had on Wales. As a born-again believer, his research into the historical records led him to wonder how the life-changing Message of Christianity would have impacted Roman Wales when it first arrived in the ‘Land of Song’. This research turned into an historical novel, one that seeks to blend all the elements into a story which he believes the reader may enjoy. The challenge is to blend in the deliberate presentation of the real Gospel Message that changed Wales upon its arrival.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Memories

D awn was just beginning to break. The cool early morning mist was drifting slowly along the embankment of the river below, covering the vegetation with an eerie glow that revealed a spectacle of many shimmering images along the water’s edge.

The hillsides were ablaze with yellow daffodils. Sheep grazed over the grassy slopes like an explosion of white spots dotting the green of the unending rolling hills. The predawn purple of the distant mountain range was gradually giving way to emerging details that suggested the harsh reality of the rugged peaks in the north. There was also a dampness in the air, which brought with it an internal chill that he knew would not leave him until the sun had climbed high enough to bring the welcome warmth he desired.

The night had been uncomfortable and quite cold. Now, as the leaves rustled with the stirring of the soft morning breeze, the cicadas began to announce the new day with their shrill tune of welcome.

Caradog lifted himself up carefully with strong, muscular arms. The ubiquitous forest noises confirmed to him that his presence on the hillside had remained unnoticed during the night. He was safe – for now. Lifting his head slowly, he peered over the ridge in order to have a view of the river embankment below.

He watched as the Roman legionaries down by the river’s edge were beginning to break camp, getting ready to continue on with their assignment with the dawn of the new day. With expected precision, they disassembled and stored their tents along with their other supplies and sleeping paraphernalia in the nearby wagons as they made ready to leave their makeshift camp and continue their expedition through the valleys.

He observed the sentries that had been on watch during the night as they were relieved of their assignment. The legionaries responsible for the horses were organising their charges into the teams that would be hitched to the supply wagons; other horses were being made ready for the officers to begin the journey.

Caradog had been there all night, having followed the cohort of legionaries for most of the previous day, wondering where they were going and, most importantly, for what purpose they were on the move. He had his suspicions, but he wanted to know for sure just what their assignment entailed and why they had passed so close to his village.

A week earlier, he had received information that the Romans were planning to build new fortresses in the valleys and that at least one of these new fortresses was to be located somewhere in the immediate area of Caerlech, his home village.

That somewhere, he feared, would end up being too near his village. This news was the catalyst that had started him out on his present scouting mission, during which he had encountered the Roman cohort below. He was determined to find out if the rumour of new fortresses was true. If so, he would have to change their minds somehow. He could not tolerate the prospect of Roman legionaries constructing more permanent fortresses in his land – especially if one was to be very close to his village.

On the other hand, if this patrol was just another routine reconnaissance mission, he knew that they would soon return to the main garrison and fort at Londinium, leaving his people and their land relatively safe from further foreign defilement – for a while at least.

As the chief warrior of his village, his first responsibility was to protect his beloved village to the best of his ability. His heritage was Celtic, which to him meant that he was a committed warrior and a loyal Celt. His primary foe these days was the hated Roman invaders – they who had come and conquered his land. They were the central focus of his thoughts, and the constant threat that kept him vigilant and alert always.

The plans about the possible building of new fortresses had been smuggled to the elders of the village by Tomas, the son of Sertes, both of whom were residents of Caerlech. Sertes was also one of the very few non-Roman men to have been able to find work in the household of the new Roman governor at his principle residence in Londinium.

The Romans were a suspicious people by nature. They were careful not to trust many of their newly-conquered peoples – and certainly not to trust them too soon. As was their custom, the vanquished native peoples of Britannia had to first earn the confidence of their masters and, most importantly, prove their loyalty to them over a period of testing. The Roman overlords considered most of their conquered peoples to be barbarians and not worthy of much trust.

Loyalty to Rome was not an easy thing for a conquered people to achieve –especially for Celts. Sertes, though himself a Celt by birth, had been able to push his natural inherent feelings of hatred and anger aside, to camouflage them, and to win the confidence of the Romans very quickly.

This had become his strategy as soon as it had become apparent that the Romans were there for the long term and would not be leaving Britannia soon. He had then made it his business to quickly earn a trusted position with the Romans. Once he had done so, he was then able to implement his undisclosed personal assignment, which was known only to the elders and a select few of the warriors of his village.

This personal assignment was to infiltrate the enemy’s headquarters in Londinium, to build and hold their trust, and to be in a position to uncover strategic military information regarding the movement of soldiers throughout the area and then feed it back to his village. He would become the perfect spy.

It was his good fortune that his careful strategy had worked well and he had been the one chosen by the governor’s procurator, Aragapus, to work inside the residence of the new governor, Marcellus Arextus. Once he had been scrutinised and approved for the post, being a native Briton, he was told that he had been chosen to fill the very important position of senior household slave. In this senior capacity, he would be responsible for all of the servants and other slaves working within the governor’s residence. Aragapus explained to him that he had considered it quite important that the head slave should be able to communicate with all the household slaves and servants in their native tongues. He felt that this would avoid any misunderstanding or miscommunication with the barbarians that they had to use as their household slaves. He explained that the governor was a meticulous man and would not tolerate errors. Aragapus outlined that he had also assumed that Sertes would be familiar with any local cultural nuances or taboos and any tribal restrictions that might create problems with the efficient running of the household. Such familiarity with British culture would thus equip Sertes to be able to manage the entire household staff very well and even to discipline them whenever it became necessary.

Very few Britons could understand the Latin spoken by the Romans, so Sertes had made it his focus to study the language used by his conquerors before his interviews began. His knowledge of Latin had impressed Aragapus, and this unusual talent had made him an even more valuable asset and had made his selection as head household slave all but assured. Aragapus had even arranged for additional lessons so that Sertes would be able to interact properly with his masters and conquerors.

Thereafter, whenever he had reason to return home to Caerlech, Sertes had made it a practise to teach key individuals in Caerlech the basics of the invaders’ language to enable them to be more aware of what was being said by legionaries whenever they chanced to be in their proximity or when they had to interrogate captives. It was a great asset for any warriors in the group.

With his senior position on the governor’s household staff came the concurrent permission to enter any part of the house, including the more private rooms and the dining areas. In this capacity, Sertes was often able to overhear interesting conversations that were taking place within the residence, and no one took any serious notice of him assuming that, as a crude barbarian slave, he was unable to understand their language or follow any of their conversations. Little did they realise.

Much to his satisfaction, Sertes came to see that the mansion was a veritable storehouse of important intelligence about Roman activities in Britain as well as the source of copious amounts of general gossip. Very frequently these titbits of overheard conversation and gossip provided valuable military information that would be discretely passed along to his village Elders at the most convenient opportunity.

He found that the area in the mansion house where the baths were located was the most rewarding area and the place where enormous amounts of intelligence could be discreetly acquired. The many invited officers, senior officials, and other important guests frequently enjoying the hot water and relaxation of the specially constructed baths were often quite free with sharing information and gossip with each other, often seeking to impress their fellow bathers while they had their relaxing massages and soaked in the steamy, curative waters, thanks to the gracious generosity of the governor.

In these relaxed conditions, usually embellished and enhanced with relatively unlimited quantities of free wine and a generous supply of female accompaniment, tongues were often loosened and things that would normally be shared cautiously would flow as freely as the libation. Roman arrogance dictated that any slaves nearby were generally ignored as oblivious barbarians who did not know their language. They could be ignored, perhaps, but they had been trained by Sertes to absorb every word spoken and to then pass the information gathered on to him at their first opportunity.

In addition to the strategic importance of gathering intelligence from the governor’s mansion, observing what was happening in and around Londinium, and keeping their ears alert to the flow of conversation in the various meeting places, pubs, and even at the various public baths in Londinium itself, Sertes and his son, Tomas, were also able to procure copious amounts of valuable information on the various military campaigns, plans, and strategies that were being considered or were to be conducted by their Roman masters. Occasionally some juicy titbits of personal or marital misfortune revealed themselves; these they stored in case they may need something for bartering at a later date.

Through an imaginative and clandestine system of relays, secret drop sites, and personal visits home, Sertes was able to get all this acquired and pertinent information to the elders and family members back in the village from which they came. This information, in turn, then made sure that the warriors of the Celtic underground had this intelligence for their own planning and use against the invaders.

On many occasions, this information, arriving at just the right time, had prevented their friends from being killed or, even worse, from being arrested and tortured by the Romans as the fearless conquerors of Britannia continued to subdue the local inhabitants and force them to submit to the authority of Rome and its emperor.

There was one major exception that would haunt Sertes and the people of Caerlech for years. The news of a pending retribution campaign that had been planned for Caerlech had not been discovered in time to get word back to Caerlech. No warning could get to the village in time, and as a result, a very high price was paid.

The network had otherwise worked very well and had often saved countless warriors and villages from greater destruction and loss.

32978.png

Now, as Caradog watched them all going about their preassigned duties below with the acknowledged efficiency of the world-famous Roman military prowess, the anger and the burning hatred suddenly welled up within him once again like a hot cauldron and churned inside with an intensity that refused to be quenched. He was unable to prevent it.

In his heart, he had resigned himself to the fact that it would be a very long time before he might hurt less than he did right now. He knew that he had to remain focussed, resolved, committed, and angry. In this way he would be much more effective in fighting these hated soldiers of Rome, the conquerors of his beloved Cymru.

He knew it would probably not be long before they finally caught up with him. He also knew that they would take pleasure in torturing him and killing him as a much sought after renegade. In doing so, they would have eliminated a significant icon of the local rebellion against the emperor.

He had accepted this eventuality, comforted that such a fate would undoubtedly have been previously ordained by his god, Ocelus. If this was to be his destiny, then he would accept it willingly when the time came.

While he was still able, however, he would continue to avenge the invasion of his country and especially the horrific and tragic death of his wife and daughter at the hands of Rome. He would fight until he had no strength left, exacting vengeance and attempting somehow to lessen that deep, agonising hurt as long as Ocelus gave him the strength and allowed him to do so.

32965.png

Nothing had been able to fill the void that the death of his family had left in his soul. His only small sense of relief from the agonies with which he had lived since it happened was the strange satisfaction he felt every time he was able to take the life of a Roman soldier, with each death providing a small, momentary sense of deep relief. With each slash of his blade, he would call out the names of his beloveds, and with each cry of pain as he plunged his weapon deep into the heart of the legionary who was unfortunate enough to face him, he felt that sense of wonderful satisfaction and release.

He held on to a hope that one day he would be able to find the centurion that had led the massacre on his village the day that they were killed. When he found him, he would be able to exact the most satisfying revenge of all. He hoped that he might then find the peace that now eluded him, and then maybe he would bring closure to this most awful chapter of his life. Then and only then would he be able to die acceptably, and he would then be free to go to them.

Ocelus would show him the way. He would then be able to join Elizabeth and Tabitha in the afterlife and be with them forever.

CHAPTER 1

THEY TOOK THE BEST FROM ME

F or a brief moment, as he watched the soldiers from the top of the ridge where he was hiding, the terrible memories with their dreadful emotions washed over him. He found himself drifting back in time once again to that day he wished he could forget.

The memories burned like red-hot coals within his breast. These persistent, indescribable images were always shocking, heart-wrenching, vivid mental pictures of that horrible day he returned to Caerlech to find the fury of Rome had been unleashed against his unsuspecting village, his people, and his family – all those who were closest to him.

The lot that day had apparently fallen on Caerlech. His village had been selected to suffer retribution for the most recent guerrilla attacks on Roman patrols in the valleys surrounding Caerlech and several other villages. The Centurion Pilus Prior, in charge of the Retribution Squad located in Londinium, had randomly selected Caerlech as his target.

Before the decision to target Caerlech, the Roman military headquarters in Londinium had met but was unable to isolate the specific villages from which the most recent raiding parties had originated. The raids inflicted numerous debilitating injuries and were becoming a serious disruption to the Roman patrols sent into the area to keep the peace, among other duties.

Regardless of the originating village, however, the decision had been made on this occasion that there had to be consequences; otherwise the legionaries might become disheartened and aggrieved that they were targets for the barbarians who attacked them indiscriminately and all too frequently. So they had marked the village of Caerlech as the focus of their retribution. This was to be the village that would bear the fury of Rome, and the squad was sent out to their target to create the desired and necessary retaliation.

The reputation of the Retribution Squad preceded them. They were acknowledged by all the Roman cohorts in Britannia as the most cold-blooded and heartless of any of the centuries operating in Britannia. The Retribution Squad comprised a century of battle-hardened legionaries who did not know what mercy looked like. They were especially punitive on the conquered savages who made the selected village their home. This time Caerlech was not aware of its pending fate.

As the most senior warrior of Caerlech, Caradog ap Bran had long ago accepted his role as defender of his village. He and his band of warriors had sworn an oath to Ocelus that they would do whatever they could to disrupt and aggravate the Romans, to persuade them that they should remain at Londinium and not expand their presence west into Wales, and to keep them away from Caerlech at all costs – or, better still, to leave Britannia altogether.

There was no warning about the attack on Caerlech that fateful day. Nor had they yet received any of the clandestine communiqués from Sertes about the attack – nothing to forewarn them so they might try to avert the disaster that would come upon them.

The decision by the Centurion Pilus Prior had been so quick, and the Retribution Squad had left Londinium so unexpectedly, that word could not get to Caerlech before the squad arrived on its mission of terror and revenge.

Most of the village warriors were not there on that fateful day to try to stop the legionaries before they entered Caerlech. They had gone out to do some reconnaissance on the enemy’s activities in the nearby valleys, not knowing what was about to happen to their village while they were absent.

The Romans appeared without warning. They had expected to meet some resistance from the village warriors, who they correctly suspected were involved in many of the hit-and-run attacks on their legionaries in the area. But as they forced their way in and ransacked the village that momentous day, they found mostly old men, women, and children. There was very little resistance, and they could vent their judgement on those they found.

Caradog was one of the absent warriors that day – a day he would never forget.

His wife, Elizabeth, and little Tabitha, his daughter, were terrified when the Romans suddenly rode into their village, slashing and slaughtering all who were in their path. They quickly decided to take refuge under the hut where they lived. The legionaries soon found them. They took them, raped them, and then tied them to the columns in the small hut. The legionaries set fire to their hut, along with many other dwellings in the village. Survivors reported that the legionaries had laughed at their screams, which echoed through the streets of the village as the fire engulfed them and they were burnt to death in their own homes. Pilus Prior, it was said, had been cruellest of all and had ignored their pleas for mercy.

Two old men and two young boys were crucified outside the village gates as a sinister message to anyone who saw them that there was no way to resist Rome.

This practise was one of the many ways that Rome used to instil fear and threaten all rebellious natives and villages. Every time there was an uprising or an attack on a Roman patrol, or if a village refused to follow some dictate of its Roman conquerors, a price had to be paid. Rome’s policy was that an example had to be made that would strike fear into the hearts of the local villagers and their leaders. Any insurrection must be put down mercilessly.

The Roman legions were excellent at this task, having perfected the art of cruelty and forced submission of the conquered as their victorious armies swept across most of Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. But the Retribution Squad in Britannia had the harshest reputation of all.

Years had passed since Julius Caesar left after his short-lived attempts to conquer Britannia. Now, one hundred years later, Rome had returned to Britain with a vengeance and improved tactics. After arriving with about one thousand vessels, the Roman Occupational Army overpowered the British warriors who tried to repel their landing. The army soon established a permanent presence, building forts and destroying local hill forts as they moved inland.

Caradog had watched as they continued to extend their conquest of Britannia from the original south-eastern landing places on the island to Londinium, where they had decided to build their headquarters. Now they were pushing further north towards the Goggledd, home of tribes like the Cornovii and the Ordiovices, and west into the home of tribes like the Silures. Caradog became increasingly alarmed as legionaries were seen more frequently throughout the area.

He was familiar with many of the chief priests of the Druids who lived in the valleys near Caerlech. They were in a class by themselves. They were loners who did not mingle with the other tribes. They were very secretive people who practised a mysterious religion known only to them. They were said to offer human and animal sacrifices. Most of the villagers and even their elders were afraid of their powerful influences and the hold they held over most people.

The villages now had to face the new threat, and often the cruelty, of the occupational forces of the emperor of Rome. In village council meetings, whenever Caradog and the village elders discussed their decision to stand against Rome, they always concluded it was only a matter of time before something terrible happened to them. The village elders confessed they knew they were playing with fate; their decision to go against the widely known power and invincibility of Rome would eventually place them all in harm’s way. They had discussed the inevitability of their choices and that the guerrilla tactics their warriors used against the Roman conquerors would ultimately provoke a fierce response from them.

But was this not what Ocelus would expect of them? Were they not expected to defend their homes and their way of life against the foreign intruders? Were their activities not approved by the words of Merlon, the chief wizard of their god, Ocelus? Would Ocelus not protect them?

In their hearts, they all knew their hit-and-run attacks were insignificant to the might of Rome. They were like mosquito pricks against the well-equipped and well-trained Roman legions. They appreciated, too, that their simplistic marauding encounters with the awesome Roman Army were only minor inconveniences to the legionaries stationed at the various outposts between Londinium and the outlying frontiers. These outposts were now gradually moving closer to their village. They realised they had no real hope of turning them back, much less defeating their much larger numbers or matching their superior training and weaponry. But try they must.

The Romans had brought with them the experience of many battles against numerous hostiles, and they had developed an overwhelming, incredibly effective, and world-renowned war machine – a war machine that had succeeded in conquering most of the world and creating an unbelievably vast empire over which the emperor in Rome presided. He was an emperor who demanded and exacted total obedience and subservience from all his subjects throughout this vast empire of conquered people.

Exotic merchandise, additional sources of taxes, and numerous slaves from the various conquered lands provided the oil that allowed the engine of the empire to run so effectively and simultaneously satisfied the many excesses of a wanton emperor with grandiose visions of himself and insatiable needs. All this tribute and luxurious living came at a very high price exacted from the personal freedoms and dignity that should be the birthright of each man and woman, regardless of his or her culture, social standing, or place of birth.

The wise elders of most of the villages scattered throughout Cymru chose to fight against this evil empire, whatever the consequences. Most knew they had to protect their heritage, culture, and, especially, their freedom at any cost. The elders in Caerlech and many other villages in the valleys had, therefore, decreed they would never give up their basic right to individual freedom or forfeit the land bequeathed them by their forefathers—whatever it might cost them.

Even with all this acknowledged caution and commitment, Caradog had never anticipated offering up the two people he loved most in the world. This was a sacrifice he had never contemplated. Now he must live with the loss. Now he must suffer the memories. Now he must also seek retribution. He would achieve this by killing many Romans.

32953.png

The most recent disturbing news that had recently arrived from Tomas and his father, Sertes, was that the Romans had decided to build one or more new military outposts somewhere near Caerlech. At least one of them, it was believed, would be built very close to Caerlech.

Caradog and the elders had debated this new information and had concluded that this was the logical strategic response to the continuing unrest in the villages and the need, therefore, to maintain a stronger military presence in the vicinity.

Having more fortresses in the area would also reduce the strenuous marching distances from Londinium and alleviate the necessity of long, difficult, and sometimes treacherous supply lines. This was the best explanation that made sense to them.

Caradog had therefore planned that he would have to find a way to force the Romans to change the location of the planned fortress and to relocate it as far away from Caerlech as they could – somehow.

32941.png

The rebuilding of Caerlech, following the unexpected Roman retribution attack, had begun almost immediately after the warriors had returned to find the devastated village and after they had begun to recover from their shock and anger. The elders said that they wanted to send a strong message of defiance back to the Roman command in Londinium. They wanted the Romans to see that the grit and the zeal of the Celts, rather than defeat, had created a strong and wilful purpose to survive, as evidenced by an immediate rebuilding exercise. They would signal a clear demonstration of the determination and pride of the Celts and send a defiant message to Rome itself: This is our land! We will not be forced from it.

The people of Wales, and especially the citizens of the village of Caerlech, were all a very proud and resilient people. Their Celtic origins and inbred natural characteristics gave them strength and endowed them with a certain cunning as warriors, all of which were of concern to the Romans. Though the Celts were not as brutish and barbaric as the Gallic and the Germanic tribes across the water, Rome realised they would still have to be watched carefully in the future; and at the sign of any trouble, they would need to be put down at once. The local warriors were skilful and determined fighters that must be kept at bay. More fortresses and more legionaries closer to the sources of insurrection were thus required.

32928.png

Scrutinising the legionaries below him now, Caradog silently struggled with the feelings that had again resurfaced in his heart. Wrestling to regain full control of his native sensitivities, he willed himself to focus on the Romans below.

He mouthed a silent prayer to his god: Ocelus, how could we not retaliate against these foreign conquerors – men that have invaded our land and burnt our villages, taking plunder and defiling our women? You are aware that all these evils have been poured out upon our land. You know that our people must be avenged. Their spilled blood calls out for revenge. My family must also be avenged. We must, therefore, prepare to strike them hard and without mercy. They have shown no mercy to us. I now look to you for your protection, mighty Ocelus. Show me your blessing and the way I should fight.

Then, somewhere deeper in his heart, he felt that he heard another voice. Could it be his conscience that responded? Maybe we are just like them. We are so ready to kill without hesitation. Our hearts are as black and as desperate as the hearts of the Romans. We really are no different to them in our own ways and practises. And why did Ocelus allow such devastation to come upon us? Are we not showing sufficient dedication and homage to Ocelus? Why has he not protected us?

Caradog let his head, not his heart, answer: No! This is the only way. As hopeless as it sometimes appears, we must strike back – even if we do not see the hand of Ocelus. We must defend our honour and the memory of our dead. We must never stop if there is one hated foreign legionary on our soil; we must defend our birthright and avenge our loved ones – to the death if necessary. I must avenge Elizabeth and Tabitha even if I am to die at the hands of these hated Romans.

CHAPTER 2

THE SELECTED ONES

I t was a very motivated Celtic incentive that brought the men of Caerlech together for the selection of the raiding party that would go out in search of the enemy that night. These secret ceremonies took place in a predetermined spot in the Sacred Forest, where they would come to present themselves to the elders as the warriors and defenders of their beloved Cymru and their beloved village.

The ceremony was also acknowledged as a service of worship and a dedication of themselves to Ocelus, the god of the forest and the patron god of their village – the god who would bring them protection as they fought in his name.

At these sacred services, the selection of the warriors that would make up the raiding party for the night would be orchestrated by the village shaman, Merlon. With appropriate incantations, and using several very ancient spells, he would deftly throw the sacred bones out into the centre of the Holy Grove as the villagers and warriors held their breath in anticipation. Which warriors would be Ocelus’ chosen men for that night?

Those so ordained by the throw of these sacred bones were silently acknowledged by the entire village as the special warriors, the Selected Ones, chosen specially by Ocelus, the god of the forest, to represent their village and their women and children on that night when they would to go out in search of Romans to kill.

At the end of the service, the Selected Ones would each present themselves to Merlon for his blessings and to allow Merlon to pray to Ocelus for their protection before they left on their new assignment.

The routine followed by these warrior teams as they went out into the dark was always the same. It had always been the way of the Celts. Their fathers and their fathers’ fathers had practised the same strategies over the years whenever there was a need to bear arms and defend their properties, their families, and their villages. It was a system perfected by trial and error and passed down through the generations – an honoured system, and one to be revered. A suitable sacrifice was offered to Ocelus, their patron god. Now the recognised enemy of their people was Rome.

Caradog was recognised as one of the most devout defenders of the ways of the Celts. He was acknowledged as the most experienced and capable of all the warriors of Caerlech. He was the defender of Caerlech. The village depended on him for their security.

After the sun disappeared behind the mountains of the Charingara, as had been ordained by the throw of the sacred bones, the Selected Ones would hand-pick their weapon of choice, and then they would venture out through the familiar trails and hillsides in search of the chosen target of the night. Or, if no specific target had been named, they would simply search in obvious places for the enemy and seek to disrupt and destroy them at all costs. Their surpassing goal was to kill as many Romans as possible and purge them all from their precious land.

Their methods were simple but masterful. It was the ancient way of the Celts.

Once they had found their target, they would quietly stalk the enemy until there was a suitable opening – a lone guard; an isolated object of some description, unsuspecting and essentially unprepared – and then they would strike with a surprising fury and with loud, blood-curdling shrieks that were designed to strike fear in the hearts of the unsuspecting foreign invaders.

Thus, taking their enemy off guard, the warriors would emerge swiftly, unexpectedly, and loudly from their hiding places. They would kill and mutilate as many of the legionaries as they could in the shortest period of time before the Celtic horn sounded. This horn was their command to immediately withdraw and retreat into the darkness as quickly as they had first appeared.

As custom dictated, once the horn sounded, the warriors would immediately repeat their blood-curdling collective howls as they were suddenly swallowed up by the night.

The Romans would instinctively know it was over. The Celts simply melted back into the darkness of the forest that they knew so well, leaving the startled and smashed legionaries looking around at each other in defeat and amazement – or crying out in pain and anguish if they were still alive.

The Selected Ones knew that they could expect the protection of their god as they were engaged in his service, so they fought with an abandon that puzzled the Romans, who were trained and disciplined but quite unhappy with the unusual style of hit-and-run fighting that the Celts favoured.

The dazed and frazzled Romans would again be frustrated that the warriors that had been there one moment ago, slashing wildly at them with their weapons, were just as suddenly gone. They would have simply disappeared, swallowed up in the darkness of the forest around them just as if they had vanished into the air.

The warriors, having disengaged themselves at the sound of the horn, would race back to their secret caves, hiding places, and familiar patches of briar bush, where they would hide until any possibly pursuing Romans inevitably gave up their futile search in the darkness of the unfamiliar landscape and returned to the relative safety of their encampment and familiar surroundings.

When sunrise finally came, the surviving members of the decimated Roman patrol would emerge from their tents and survey the damage inflicted from the previous night’s ambush. Then they would follow protocol and build the funeral pyres on which they would cremate their butchered comrades, killed the night before, many of whom were cut down before they could even draw their gladii. Focussed on their gloomy and sad work, their banter would be filled with questions and suggestions as they attempted, yet again, to figure out how they might defend themselves more successfully against these frequent, ferocious, and dreadful guerrilla attacks by the Celts.

The centurion in charge of the cohort would survey the damage inflicted on his century that night by the barbarians – savages who never stood to fight them man-to-man, leaving their opponents decimated and broken both physically and emotionally.

Legionary training and all their previous battle experience expected hand-to-hand fighting, whereas these guerrilla attacks by the Celts were always so brief, so totally unexpected, and so suddenly ended that they were often left more bewildered than victorious. It was very demoralising for the proud soldiers of Rome.

The acknowledged leader of the Caerlech warriors, Caradog ap Bran, knew that this method of fighting was not the way of the Romans, that they had been trained to stand and to fight, and that they would try to encourage their attackers to engage them in a hand-to-hand encounter. Their superior training and the design of their weaponry would enable them to excel in these circumstances. Instead, the local Celtic warriors chose to engage in guerrilla hit-and-run tactics, minimising the effectiveness of the Roman military superiority. That was his committed strategy. It was working.

The centurion’s encounter report of the previous night’s engagement would be written and forwarded back to Londinium. The description of the attack on his century would repeat the usual complaint that they had been ambushed by local savages who had not fought in the expected and traditional manner of enemy soldiers. The names of the dead would also be relayed back to headquarters for the record and so the families of the slaughtered legionaries could be informed of their loss. The funeral pyres were turning cold by the time the devastated century moved on, now with fewer legionaries than the number with which they had started their patrol the previous day.

This guerrilla warfare was also being staged in unfamiliar landscapes for the legionaries of Rome. They were in a strange and unfamiliar land. The language was unknown. The customs and mores of the Celts were so different to those with which they were familiar. Caradog long ago determined that nothing should be allowed to conform to what the Roman Army had been trained to expect – that they should be overwhelmed with new and unfamiliar tactics and kept wondering.

He was aware of stories that had been reported to the spies living in Londinium that described similar encounters and experiences of the troops located in other distant parts of the empire. These stories were probably also told by the travelling merchants who roamed the empire trading goods for coin, or perhaps from intercepted dispatches arriving from those serving the Roman Army in remote areas of Germania and Gaul.

These stories and reports described how the Gauls and the Huns living across the water on the continent apparently fought in a similar fashion to the local warriors called Celts and Druids.

The fierce warriors living in distant regions across the Gallic Sea were also considered to be uncivilised savages by their Roman conquerors. They, too, proved to be difficult to control, and the whole of Germania and Gaul continued to be very unstable provinces, requiring many legions for the maintenance of order. They considered the local warriors to be similarly crude and barbaric peoples.

It was often whispered by some of the more travelled centurions that if an officer found he had been assigned to Germania, he considered this as being banished to the backwoods of the empire. Many of them never returned to tell of their experiences dealing with these uncivilised natives.

Britannia was shaping up to be a similar control problem for Rome – particularly the Celts, in the south-western part of Cambria, who were particularly ferocious and skilled at killing. The Druids were even worse and often committed such appalling atrocities that they were a more feared cult than even the village warriors.

As chief warrior, Caradog had been perfecting the finer points of launching surprise guerrilla attacks on the Romans. Then, with each real encounter with the enemy, he could refine and improve on those techniques that were found to be the most successful, and determine which tactics brought the greatest surprise and the maximum damage to the cohort under attack. These refined skills were then taught to a small band of carefully-selected junior warriors known as the Wolf Pack – young warriors which he set apart by careful screening and constant training.

On a day when Caradog was engaged in training the Wolf Pack, Sertes and Tomas had arrived home for a visit. They were able to discuss the content of several of the documents they had been able to smuggle out of the governor’s mansion. Sertes had helped to translate the Latin so the warriors could properly understand the documents. Caradog was also beginning to learn the basics of Latin, the language of the Romans, so that he would be able to do his own research or interrogate Roman captives. He was becoming quite proficient with their strange language.

When they were able to review and fully understand the Roman plans, such those outlined in the latest stolen documents, Caradog was able to use the information to further refine knowledge of the enemy’s plans for their continued occupation of their land. He also utilised the opportunity to make some refinements in his training techniques and also to craft his fighting strategies by intermingling some of his Celtic ways with the techniques that he now understood the Romans feared most and the ones which they found always gave them the best results in their engagements with Roman legionaries.

The techniques and the strategies being used in their skirmishes also had the additional advantage that they made it much more difficult for the Romans to pinpoint the exact villages that had participated in these attacks. This, in turn, meant it was much more problematic for the Romans to exact vengeance against any specific village.

Unfortunately, the Romans were then often forced to choose villages