Slaves of Fear: A Land Unconquered Read Free

auxiliaries, with a multi-coloured cloak over his left shoulder. His broadsword, which he now ran an oil rag over, had witnessed countless battles.
    “The latest blow against those who have become wilful slaves of Rome,” he asserted to his companion, who nodded in concurrence. “A pity we had to slay so many of your people, but it had to be convincing.”
    “These people are nothing but slaves of fear, as is the bitch who rules over them.”
    Caratacus smiled appreciatively before reaching into his tunic and producing a gold torque. “A token of gratitude from King Orin.”
    The other warrior took the torque and turned it over in his hands. “Gold is a rarity in these isles,” he said. “Yet the Silures possess plenty of it. Few have crossed into their lands, and these gifts of gold only add to their mystery.”
    “Do not worry about where the gold comes from,” Caratacus said sternly. “Continue to show your gratitude by helping us undermine the alliance your cunt of a wife has formed with Rome.”
    The hooded warrior flashed an understanding grin. His name was Venutius, consort to Queen Cartimandua of the Brigantes; the largest kingdom in all Britannia. Yet instead of joining the alliance that Caratacus’ brother, Togodumnus, had formed to repel the invaders, Cartimandua had offered her immediate submission to the armies of Caesar.
    The queen’s capitulation caused numerous rifts within the people of Brigantes. Venutius had attempted to take a band of warriors to join the resistance, but was overridden by his wife; a humiliating blow to his manhood and status as a great warrior. Even those who most hated the Romans were still loyal to their queen, as they had been to her father before. Four years later, those nostalgic feelings were beginning to fade, as Venutius and his allies continued in their subtle and subversive war of public opinion against the Romans, who continued to expand their territory even further into Britannia.
    Following the ignominious defeat and death of Togodumnus, along with the subjugation of his people, the Brigantes consort had also feared his friend, Caratacus, was slain. Within the last year, however, the fugitive Catuvellauni prince made his presence known once more. And Venutius was only too glad to serve as a foil against his estranged wife, for it was he who arranged for the border village to be left undefended. Caratacus and his Silures allies had been allowed to sack the settlement, sending a message to all who would bow before a foreign emperor in distant Rome.
    Unconcerned by the dead, even though they were his tribesmen, Venutius observed, “By bringing the people of the western mountains together, you have succeeded where so many have failed.”
    “The Silures played only a small role in the last war,” Caratacus recalled. “Though their king, and a small band of his elite fighters, did stand with us in a show of solidarity. His death, while tragic, made the Roman threat painfully clear to all the Silures.” He gave a short laugh. “Not that Orin minded becoming king after his brother’s demise. He even took his pregnant sister-in-law as his queen.”
    “The Silures have a reputation for being the most fanatical fighters in all of Britannia,” Venutius concurred. “However, they are a wild people and will be very difficult to control. And their numbers alone will not be enough to defeat the Romans.”
    Caratacus sheathed his sword. “Let me worry about the Silures. With my own people cowering before the Romans, Brigantes is now the largest kingdom in all the land. Only the Iceni have a comparable number of fighting men, and they have been squabbling of late with their imperial overlords.”
    “These raids will show my people that the protection of Rome is useless,” Venutius surmised. Adding disdainfully, “Their queen will continue to supplicate herself before the emperor, leaving the citizens of Brigantes in want of a strong leader.”
    “Cartimandua is but a