Chapter Thirteen







A sudden change came over the war party after a scant few hours of riding. It rippled out, like the air had lightened after a much needed storm. The men laughed, jeering each other as some broke away from the group to race along the fields before doubling back and wooping loudly. It was like watching children at play.



Back on the horse with Kailen, Aurelia asked, “What is happening? What are they doing?”



“We are almost home.” Kailen replied, joy in his voice. “It lifts the spirits.”



Aurelia was overtaken with a new type of fear. They were almost to the end of their journey, and to what lies in wait for her. She didn’t have long to wait.



They crested a ridge and spied a settlement in the shallow valley. It was the largest one she had seen yet, with round thatched roofed huts along a small river bank. They spread out from the largest of the huts and a large cleared area where a fire was burning and dried strips of some sort of salted meat was hanging from wooden racks. Men, women and children were milling about, going about their business, until they spotted the war party on the horizon and a call went up.



The war party answered with a call of their own and as one, they descended the hill in a thunder of hooves that seemed to make the valley shake with it. All the inhabitants ran to greet their loved ones home, arms in the air and calling out in their language that it was almost deafening to Aurelia. The horses didn’t seem to mind, it was like they smelt home and they were safe.



Aurelia didn’t feel anything of the kind. They were getting mobbed with people, their eyes wide and curious as they looked upon her, hands reaching out to tug on her dress, almost ripping it in the process. They all wanted a souvenir of the dark haired hostage.



She wanted to bat their hands away, kick out at them and scream for them to go away, but she dared not to. No one knew how temperamental a mob could be any better than a Roman. They weren’t hurting her, not yet anyway, and Kailen was keeping a tight hold around her waist. Whether it was to make sure she wasn’t pulled from the horse, or as a warning so she wouldn’t strike out, she couldn’t say.



They finally reached the clearing in the middle and the press of people eased. The men of the war party swung down from their horses and properly greeted the crowd with hugs and rapid fire greetings, handing out the spoils of their excursions from the bags that were tied to the saddles.



A young woman with a small boy clinging to her hip sauntered out of the crowd to speak to Kailen. She was young, only a couple of years older than Aurelia. With the same dark hair and light grey eyes as Kailen, Aurelia felt it safe to assume they were siblings or cousins at the very least. She had a warm smile for him and gripped the hand he held out for her and said lilting in their language.



Aurelia wished she knew the language to know what they were saying to each other. She felt disembodied from her surroundings, like she didn’t quite fit. And it was true, she didn’t fit here in this country. Too foreign, too wild, too savage.



The woman’s eyes flicked to Aurelia for a moment, assessing but not hostile, before she tilted her head and made a questiong sound at Kailen. He replied with something short, abrupt, which made the woman snort with amusement.



He slipped from the horse and, guiding Aurelia down with his hands on her waist, helped her down after him. Her legs wobbled from being astride a saddle for so long but his hands steadied her, tightening a fraction before slipping to the small of her back and guiding her through the crowd.



“What is happening? Where are we going?” She asked Kailen in escalating panic. She tried to slow their progress but his guidance was firm and unyielding.



“I am to present you to the leaders of my tribe,” Kailen answered. “There is one who will be especially pleased to meet you.”



“Well, that doesn’t sound threatening at all.” She grumbled under her breath. He must have heard her despite her efforts as he laughed lowly.



They came to the largest hut where an old man was leaning on a hewed wooden staff. He was waiting for them by the open entrance. She had never seen someone so old, with long coarse grey hair and a face that was so wrinkled it resembled the bark of a tree.



Kailen bowed at the waist to him and the old man nodded, turning and letting them enter the hut. Kailen pushed Aurelia in before him and she had no choice but do as he bid.



She stared around her. The hut was bigger on the inside, with the floor being hard-packed earth and covered with animal pelts and woven blankets for seating. There was a small fire in the centre, the smoke spiralling lazily up from it and sucked through a hole fifteen feet above. Around the curved wall were raised bedsteads which, after sleeping countless nights in open fields, looked welcoming to Aurelia’s eyes.



It was worlds apart from the sumptuous living she was used to in Rome. There were no colourful mosaics to decorate the floor or walls, no lofty rooms amongst lines of columns of cool granite. No frivolous relics to demonstrate the families’ wealth and heritage.



The items and tools were simple, but made with great skill and care and cherished by those who used them. Everything was where it could be reached easily when needed. She was in someone’s home, someone without any pretence.



And that someone was sitting on the opposite side of the hut. Aurelia had thought the man at the door had been old, but this man had to be ancient. He was a tall man, regal in bearing, but painfully thin. The dark blue robe he wore almost swallowed his shoulders, the simple tunic he wore underneath billowed at the waist.



But despite all this, Aurelia knew without a doubt that this man was the leader of the Silures. He had a shining gold torque around his throat and Aurelia was riveted by the sight of it. It was of the best craftsmanship she had ever seen, the design of a fire serpent was chiselled into the gold wrapping around the man’s neck. No simple man would be able to own something as precious as that.



There was a young woman tending to him. She was light of hair, tall and supple limbed, with open pretty features and bright intelligent eyes. She wore a dress synched at her narrow waist by straps of dark oiled leather and a coloured stone necklace around her neck. When she saw Kailen, her whole face lit up in joy and she went to him to embrace him.



Aurelia felt awkward watching as the two embraced, like it should have been a private thing, with no spectators. They murmured to each other and Aurelia wished yet again she could understand their language and know what they were saying to each other. Were they words a lover would say to the other on being reunited? Kailen had not mentioned a special someone since this whole thing had started, not one hint. It hadn't crossed her mind if someone had been eagerly awaiting Kailen’s return.

But then, why would he say anything to her? She was just a means to an end for him and his tribe.



Kailen pulled away from the woman and Aurelia watched his face more intently than she would admit to herself. While she saw genuine affection for the woman, she saw no attraction to her, or how a lover would look upon their loved one. Whatever the woman might feel for the warrior, he did not return it.



A knot that had grown in the pit of her stomach suddenly loosened.



The woman turned back to the leader, spoke formally as she bowed her head in reverence, and then left the hut. It was now just the three of them.



Kailen stepped forward and crouched on one knee in front of the old man. “Calonus.” He murmured.



The leader, Calonus, tilted his head in recognition. “Kailen.” He said in a deep husky echo of a voice.



And then the man’s eyes turned to Aurelia, and she felt frozen to the spot. He had a gaze that weighed heavily on a person, like he could look into your very soul and see everything. It was disconcerting, to say the least.



Calonus said something with a throaty chuckle and Aurelia quickly glanced to Kailen with a worried frown. Was she being laughed at?



Kailen caught her eyes and he shrugged. “He says that I have brought back a jewel for his people in the form of a woman.”



“A jewel?” She asked uncomprehendingly.



Kailen stared at her. “You have a looking glass back home, do you not? You cannot be ignorant of your own beauty.”



“I…” Aurelia reddened in embarrassment and said no more.



Kailen stood up and launched into a speech that Aurelia could only assume was his recount of what has happened since leaving his village. Aurelia stood there, taking the two men in, heart hammering in her chest as time drew nearer to some sort of verdict on her role in all of this.



There was a commotion outside of the hut, voices raised, and then a man appeared in the doorway. He was Kailen’s size and height, with lighter skin and fairer hair. While Kailen’s eyes were a light grey, this man’s eyes were a brown so dark they almost appeared black. He was a handsome man, a handful of years older, with a fresh scar running down from his left temple and down his cheek.



Aurelia felt herself grow cold for no explicable reason.







~







Kailen inclined his head to the man at the door, High King Caratacus, as he stepped inside. He was one of a few High Kings left to Britain thanks to the Romans and, up until six moons ago, the leader of his own tribe, the Catuvellauni. It was Commander Aquilla and his legion that had demanded the Catuvellauni’s total submission and when they had declined, Aquilla had the whole tribe slaughtered for their insolence.



Caratacus had fled to the Silures and taken refuge amongst its people. It was in his name that Kailen had taken up arms.



“You have returned to us,” Caratacus said with a smile as he clasped arms with Kailen. “Lift my spirits and tell me you and your men were victorious.”



Kailen gripped his arm in kind and grinned. “Their reinforcements were broken upon our shore, all save one soldier who acted as our messenger to the worm Aquilla.”



Caratacus laughed uproariously. “A messenger, you say? Does he speak of the Roman’s doom?”



“That and more.” Kailen gestured to Aurelia. “The Gods have saw fit to deliver Aquilla’s intended into our hands. I have sent word of her ill fortune to him, insuring Aquilla’s ongoing participation. You will meet him on the battlefield, as you have longed for.”



Caratacus turned and took Aurelia in. Her eyes flicked between them, uncomprehending of everything they were saying, and took a step back as if she wished to make an escape. He looked at her from over the High King’s shoulder and gave a very small shake of his head.



“Are you asking me to trust you, Kailen?”



“I guess I am. But then, what choice do you have?”



She hesitated, the indecision plain on her face only to him, before she squared her shoulders and stayed where she was.



Caratacus circled her, his eyes missing nothing, before facing Kailen. “You are sure she is who she says she is? That it’s not a ploy to spare her life?”



“I am certain. I had it from the soldiers that were protecting her and her manners and dress are of a highborn woman.” Kailen replied.



Caratacus clapped him on the shoulder. “I could never have dreamed of such a stroke of luck, not in my wildest fantasies. You’ve done well to bring her to me, I will enjoy her immensely.”



Kailen felt a cold hand slide up his spine at the words of his High King. He should have expected this, should have known Caratacus would have wanted her for his own. Caratacus hadn’t been the same man since his tribe was murdered, he had grown cold and cruel. There was no telling what he would do to Aurelia given the chance. But to ignore the wishes of his High King…



Kailen licked his dry lips, taking care with his words. “Caratacus, I have given my word as a warrior that no harm will come to her.”



Caratacus laughed derisively. “And who are you to make such a promise? She is nothing but a slave.”



“She is mine. My promise holds.” Kailen said calmly.



Caratacus blinked, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Yours?” He demanded.



“According to our customs. I captured her and claim her as my War Prize, that is my right.” Kailen said grimly, eyes turning to his leader, Calonus. He had sat motionless during the whole exchange.



“You cannot be serious.” Caratacus raged, turning to Calonus himself. “As High King, I demand she be handed over to me. That is my right!”



Calonus drew a similar hewed wooden staff as to the man at the door and used it to leverage himself up to a standing position. Kailen made a move to go to his side but Calonus waved him off with an impatient hand. “Kailen speaks the truth. It is our custom to lay claim to our own share of the spoils, particularly that of a War Prize. No man, not even a High King, can say otherwise.”



“If you want tribute, I will gladly give you the weapons and coin that is in my possession." Kailen offere. "I have given you the war you had wanted and I will fight as you command me. But I will keep my War Prize.”



He had done as asked and promised more than most would have done. Caratacus knew that if he demanded more, he would be overstepping his bounds. He may be a High King, but he was without his own tribe and living on the concessions of others.



Caratacus drew himself up to his full height and nodded with ill grace to Calonus. He turned to Kailen with fire in his eyes. “You grieve me, Kailen.” Before walking out of the hut.



“Caratacus will not do anything against my word, Kailen, but have a care. The men is festered with demons. He is unstable.” Calonus warned.



Kailen nodded, watching the door. “I understand, leader." His eyes flickered to Aurelia. "My cares will be kept close to me.”



~

Aaannnnd we are back to regularly programmed schedule of updates!

Why is there two spellings for torc/torque? Whhhhyyyyyyyy

Also, if you guys are interested in seeing what the torque the Leader Calonus looks like, i have a picture of it on my blog here: http://teatoastandbookposts.tumblr.com/post/95624415067/fire-serpent-dragon-celtic-torque#notes