This chapter was horrible to write. Horrible. It is what i call a transition chapter, a chapter where not much happens but is needed to be written to forward the plot and make the change in Auelia's and Kailen's relationship believable in later chapters. Also it has info dump of tribe life that i tried to write that didn't sound like a history lecture.

I'm not sure if i pulled it off, but i feel it is needed and i hope you guys won't be too disappointed.



Chapter Eighteen







It was far too easy for Aurelia to immerse herself into a life with the Silure tribe. Their way of being had a certain peaceful and industrious quality to it that was so different from her life as a noble woman back in Rome. She welcomed it after everything that had happened since leaving her home's shores.



She remembered a time when her father read snippets to her mother of Julius Caesar’s report on the very first expedition he had made to Britain, how he described the British tribes as nothing more than a backwards rabble that’s society was virtually uncivilised.



It went against everything she was coming to know of this tribe in particular. They didn’t have paved roads (in the territory that wasn't conquered by the Romans), or lofty marbled buildings. They didn’t pray to their Gods in splendid temples where their likeness was depicted on statues. They didn’t surround themselves with wealth in gold and sumptuous fabrics to awe their neighbours and elevate their own status.



Instead, they had a close kinship with the animals that was their livelihood and the earth that they farmed. It reflected in the Gods and spirits that they paid homage to. Like Sucellos, the Sky God who wielded a hammer that caused lightning, and Sulis, the Goddess of the healing springs. They respected the elements as it could make or break the tribe come winter time.



Their income came from livestock farming such as sheep which was the main source of meat on the island. They also grew cereal crops like wheat and kept it dry in large buildings called barns as the weather was so wet and cold and could spoil it. The tribesmen took it to a local market to sell and they bartered in goods rather than in coin, a concept that floored Aurelia when she watched Kailen barter crop seedlings for rough tin and a beautiful British made woollen cloak that was fastened at the neck with a bronze clasp in the shape of a serpent's head.



“To your people, this is a piece of clothing that gives the impression of the wearer to be the height of fashion.” Kailen explained as he placed the cloak around Aurelia’s shoulders, his hands lingering on her shoulders before pulling away sheepishly. “It will get colder now that we are getting closer to winter. You will need something warmer about you.”



Aurelia thanked him with a murmur, the warm glow at his gruff words kept her smiling for the rest of the day.



The British were also incredible metal workers, making anything from the finest swords and spears to intricate designs in jewellery worn by the aristocracy. Bronze was their favourite metal, but tin was in high demand. They worked carefully with the earth that produced the metal as the ground around the Silure’s territory contained earthy veins that was rich with the stuff. The product was meticulously ground down, smelted and purified. They bear the metal into masses and carried it to an island of Britain called Ictis, where merchants all across the Empire bought the tin and carried it back to be made into anything they wanted.



Aurelia had only seen the product in its finished state, never from its beginnings. The process was fascinating, she could watch the tribe’s metal workers situated on the outskirts of the village at their work for hours on end until Kailen came to collect her.



He always seemed to know where she was at any given moment, materialising by her side without so much as a sound, making her almost jump out of her skin in surprise. Her reactions to him seemed to amuse him and it became an unspoken game between them. Aurelia would try to preempt his coming and Kailen would appear at the time least expected for the maximum effect.



Kailen was winning. For the time being, of course.



Kailen knowing her whereabouts every hour of every day wasn’t really all that shocking when the whole village kept an eye on her, undoubtedly reporting back to Kailen the trials and tribulations of Aurelia’s attempts at navigating her way through British life. There didn’t seem to be any ill will in it towards her, just a watchfulness of a tight knit group of people who had a 'guest' amongst them. She grateful for the lack of malevolence towards her but wondered if she owed that to her being a woman, someone who hadn’t taken up arms against their own people.



She voiced these thoughts to Renna one afternoon who nodded her head in agreement. “It’s easier to forgive women for being born to the enemy, especially one who has not given us cause for any grievance. But that isn’t to say that men who were once Roman soldiers can’t be made part of the tribe."



Aurelia blinked in astonishment. “Are you talking about Roman deserters?”



“It’s not a common occurrence as deserters are often caught and executed by the Roman army, but some tribes have taken men in and named them as their own.” Renna shrugged. “There's an Iceni merchant who travels from tribe to tribe selling his goods. He used to be a Roman infantryman. He bears the soldier mark on his chin.”



Aurelia knew what she was referring to. Every soldier had a small scar just under their chin from the strap they wore from their heavy helmets. “I can’t believe it. I thought we were bitter enemies. To think Romans can be at peace with Britons.”



Renna arched an eyebrow at her. “And yet you’re here unharmed, are you not? Free to travel amongst us in the village? Besides, the lines drawn between us are not set in stone. It depends on the individual.”



The rest of the tribe were curious about her, especially the women of its population. They asked her endless questions about Roman fashion back home, what Rome was like, did Roman soldiers really drink the blood of demons. They were just as disbelieving of her culture as she was of theirs. What they had thought to be fact were just rumours and lies and they often laughed uproariously at the true answer.



Perhaps all the women was a sweeping statement. There was one woman who did bear Aurelia ill will and want nothing to do with her. Lena had taken it upon herself to make sure Aurelia knew she was not welcome. Her ire had sharpened considerably over the weeks since Aurelia had turned up to the village, since she witnessed Aurelia’s closeness to Kailen. She had kept her dislike to sneering and disgruntled looks, never voicing it aloud in front of Kailen in case his estimation of her would be lowered by her scorn. As Aurelia let the looks slide off her without any comment, she figured that Lena will soon not be so content to let it lie.



Among all this she spent her time in the company of Renna, who taught her the healing arts and tribe etiquette and with Elsa, whose large family welcomed her amongst them, and taught her their words. The language didn’t come easily. Celtic had a strange forceful sound, so different to her own native tongue. The results often had Bran and Elsa roaring with laughter and Aurelia pouting at her own incompetence.



“Do not worry yourself,” Bran would say to her after the end of every lesson to lift her flagging spirits. “You will get the hang of it soon enough.”



“Your three year old son has a better grasp of it then I do,” Aurelia complained as the toddler in question crawled into her lap and proceeded to fall asleep with his little thumb in his mouth.



“That is to be expected. All children now only of the words their parents speak to communicate with them, nothing else. They learn by imitating. It is harder as an adult to do the same.” Bran ruffled the hair of the sleeping child.



“Some say that babies can hear everything when they are in the womb,” Aurelia mused.



“It would not surprise me.” Bran answered.



They were interrupted by Elsa bombarding Aurelia with new words to learn and the lesson resumed in earnest.



When Aurelia wasn’t with the women, she was acting as Kailen’s shadow. She looked on as he trained with his men, a seemingly ceaseless regime that forced them all to their very limits and back again. The men and women of the tribe had a basic attitude to life. They regarded warfare as the very first priority of survival. It was the very rite for all young men had to perform to pass from adolescence to manhood. This process showed which youths were the fittest, thereby enabling them to progress into mature warriors.



Those who did not show an aptitude for war were funnelled into other worthy pursuits. Youths who showed they were intelligent were placed with the priests to nurture their talent for the good of the tribe. They would be the inventors and pave new techniques for the advancement of the quality of life. Other youths were placed in farming, trading and metal working. No one was left out. If someone did not pull their weight, they were cast out of the tribe. It was a brutal way of living, but it ensured the survival of everyone else.



Aurelia learnt early on in her and Kailen’s acquaintance that, with the death of his older brother and the invasion of Rome, Kailen had passed boyhood at thirteen, a very young age even to the tribes of Britain. He won the respect of his leaders by helping to repel a Roman attack against the village, earning himself the scars across the top of his bicep, the first of many.



It was also the first time he was tattooed.



“What do they mean?” Aurelia asked one night as they sat by the fire in his hut and sipped honeyed water.Kailen glanced down at himself, pulling the collar of his shirt down to reveal the smooth planes of his chest and the dark swirls of the tattoos for Aurelia to look at. “The tattoos on each warrior have different meaning to the wearer. They can symbolise strength, courage, and power. It’s like having a cloak to make you invincible in battle, one you can never take off.”



“And what do yours mean?” She prompted.



Kailen smiled. “All of the above. The tribe means everything to me, more than my life’s worth. Considering our odds for survival, we need all the help and luck we can get.”



Aurelia snorted. “And yet you poke and prod the greatest power in the world. You’re going to need more than luck to survive the retribution.” Her words stuck in her throat at the thought of it and she lapsed into uncomfortable silence.



Kailen shrugged as if it was of no concern to him and he changed the subject. “I could show you the tattoo for luck if you like. But it would require taking off my breeches.”



“No thank you.” Aurelia said primly. “I might go blind.”



Kailen laughed. “If you say so, bright eyes.”



And that was another thing. Kailen had taken to calling her a pet name, ‘bright eyes’. It was a step up from ‘woman’ or ‘Roman whore’ but the nickname had an affectionate quality to it that made her both uncomfortable and oddly delighted. It alluded to a sense of closeness that had now befallen them. One she had not experienced with any other men outside of her family.



Not even Aquilla.



And that was a sobering thought.



~



On the dawn of a new month, Aurelia woke to an empty hut. She blinked up at the thatched ceiling, still experiencing that disconcerting feeling of not knowing where she was, before her world would realign itself and she sat up.



Getting out of bed, she padded towards the bowl of clean water where she washed her hands and face, taking time to wipe the sleep away and refresh herself. A cup was set out for her to drink from. She became aware of low murmuring outside, the soft whinny of a horse and the sound of hoofs hitting the earth.



She grabbed a blanket to wrap around herself to protect herself against the cold in a thin cotton underdress she had worn to bed and slipped outside.



The sun had just peeked above the horizon, making Aurelia squint in the orange light. The air was chilled, the grass wet with dew beneath her bare feet. Holding a hand up to shield her eyes, she saw Kailen in the middle of the field with his war horse. He was stripped to the waist, perspiration from his physical activities making his skin shine.



He must have been up for a while, she thought absentmindedly, watching him as he paced with the horse.



Kailen seemed to be playing a game with his horse, running along with it for a time before reaching his hand out to touch the horse on the neck, before the horse cantered away and changed direction. Kailen would stop, turn his back on the horse, wait until the horse pressed its nose to his back for attention and the game would start all over again.



It was like she was watching children at play and it brought a smile to her face to see it. She must have stood there for a time before Kailen realised he and his playmate were being watched. His eyes lit upon her and he swung up on his horse and rode up to her.



“Good morning.” She greeted. “Is that what you call drilling your war horse for battles to come?”



Kailen’s smile widened and he used the pressure in his knees to urge the horse to side step in a circle around her, always facing her. In other circumstances the move could be intimidating, but right this moment it felt like a playful act.



“He’s trained regularly with the other horses of the tribe. Today was a lesson between man and beast, to strengthen the bonds between the two to put them in good stead for war.”



“Training is not enough?” Aurelia wondered aloud.



“Not for my tribe, no. Horses are loyal to their masters and war is chaos. When warriors are hurt or become confused by the melee, a loyal horse can make all the difference between life and death.” Kailen stopped his horse when it made a complete circle and allowed Aurelia to reach out a hand and stroked the horse’s nose. The horse pressed further into her touch.



“Have you named him?” She asked.



“His name is Brennus. It means King.” Kailen patted Brennus on the neck and the horse snorted, as if to agree.



“Brennus,” she crooned softly. “King of the horses.”



Kailen reached down and held his hand out for her to take.



Aurelia looked at it suspiciously. “What?”



“Ride with me.” He said simply.



“Where are we going?” She asked, confused. Had something happened in the night?



“I have no destination in mind,” He admitted. “I just want to go riding.”



With you, was left unsaid but Aurelia caught his meaning all the same. Her eyes met his, to see his gaze turned serious and she swallowed with difficulty.



It was a seemingly innocent question, nothing to worry about. But she felt that if she took his hand she would open a door to something new, something foreign, and another door would slam closed, never to be open again.



She took his hand.



~

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