Having just been warned by Kedehern the chief of the Galic tribe the Coriosolites; Adin the soothsayer looks surprised for an instant at the chief. Turning to the altar she realises that he will not touch a hair on her head. Slyly now she looks back at him for she knows that he will be gone, long before her. Caesar will pay well for some information and if it is too late to be of use... Then what would Caesar do to Kedehern?... We will see! Adin cackles with laughter at the thought.

Kedehern gives her a long look but says nothing. For near on two years now he has dictated the path of the tribe, following the advice of the druids of course. To do anything else would be unwise, for his words would have little power without the voice of the druids backing him. He is well aware that he has been chief for a long time now and some day his turn will come to meet the sword. For no chief has ever died of old age in this society led by a core of warrior families...

Eudeyrn returns to the hall for final instructions at the request of his father.

"Eudeyrn my son, you know what I am going to ask of you... My soothsayer recommends and gives her blessing to the fields of Jersey, a place to hide in safe keeping the contents of the town's strong box. You are to take our best warriors as escort. Remember the spot and make sure no one else with this knowledge lives." He looks at his son and sees strength and determination in his eyes.

"You have the trust, the welfare and the future of the Coriosolites in your hands. When the time is right we will rise with Vercingetorix leading all our great tribes against the Roman invaders then I swear by the Gods we will have a glorious victory. Now go my son, you have the Gods behind you."

With that Eudeyrn bowed to his father and left like a panther...gone in an instant without a sound.

"He had better have the Gods behind him," said Kedehern in a loud voice when his son had gone, turning to look at an unconcerned Adin.

Walking with purpose, the six warriors make their way though a crowd of panicking Celtic families, as they flee towards the woods seeking safety from the expected Roman legions. The warriors arrive outside the secure courtyard and every warrior is given charge of a mule, each carrying six large bags of coins and gold.

"To be guarded with your life," Eudeyrn says softly to each warrior in turn as he looks them in the eye and they nod their heads one at a time as they pass him.

A further ten warriors from good families ordered to escort them arrive. By now a bare thirty minutes have passed since the news of the impending Roman visit. Wasting no time they form an escort with the five mules. Eudeyrn stops the troop as soon as they are on their own and out of earshot of the town, with his hand on his sword he gives them this warning.

"Do not ask questions, or talk about what you see to anyone and I mean anyone. You are here to protect the future of the Coriosolites... OUR ... future. One word, that is all I need and you will adorn my wall collection with your head."

With staring eyes and red of face, his wild self induced anger with intention is plainly visible, looking individually at every one of these murderous looking fighters. Several of these individuals visibly tremble, though fierce and battle hardened, they all know the reputation of Eudeyrn, the real power behind Kedehern. Everyone has seen his wall collection.

"Apart from my bodyguard no person must come near the mules, for they will feed the soil with their blood if they do."

Nothing further is said and they quietly follow Eudeyrn down the track, as he leads with his right hand still resting on his lucky short sword (scores of deaths already to its credit). His eyes and senses missing nothing, as he hurries them along, never stopping, always urging them forward.

The warriors proceed on foot to the coast a journey of a few miles, hampered by the heavily laden mules. Marching at a steady pace, the troop keep a respectful distance from the mules, so as not incur the wrath of Eudeyrn. They plough through muddy tracks for miles, nearing mid day they arrive at a small village on the coast.

"We are lucky the tides are in our favour, for we can wade over to Jersey at low tide from here. The Romans will have to wait for the tide unless they find boats. Although we have a good lead they are sure to find out about us."

Impatient, Eudeyrn darts left and right. Happy about the security, he makes a decision.

"We have need to get rid of all the boats we can find," orders Eudeyrn.

"AND RIGHT AWAY!" He shouts.

This triggers a reaction and everyone starts running towards the moorings where the small fishing boats are.

In a short period all the boats in this small village are set adrift and the oars smashed.

"No, no... don't, for how can we eat if you take our boats?" complains one peasant.

"I have a family; children to feed. I must protest." Shouts out a second peasant, wide eyed like the first at the sight of the five mules.

Reluctant to part company with their boats, these two Peasants who have seen too much, after a short chase are speedily put to the sword in a noisy fashion, with much blood spilled. Women running for their lives can be heard cursing them in the distance.

Bread and potage is quickly pillaged from the nearby cottages as is normal. Luckily with no time to spare, the women are not pursued or touched on this occasion. One defiant peasant who spoiled his hot potage with salt so it could not be eaten lost his right hand on the orders of Eudeyrn.

In single file the sixteen warriors and five mules with their burden left the coast. With their eyes fastened on Jersey, they set off wading up to their waists in the water making slow but steady progress over the uneven reefs and rising tide.

Julius Caesar.


At this time centurion Persious Maximus is reporting to Julius Caesar that the small town of Corseul is surrounded and ready to receive him. With Caesar leading his elite bodyguard they enter the town, riding four abreast down the wide main street between the long houses. These eighty men all veterans make an impressive, colourful, sight with their red plumes, cloaks and banners flying in a light breeze as they escort the hostages.

Two bronze dragons... on poles these fearful standards drone in the wind... making their unearthly howl as they are designed to do. Long red silken gossamer tails move, trailing with a lazy flutter in the breeze. Caesar knows that the superstitious Celts will take this to be an omen. He notes also that the population has fled and he is not surprised.

Passing a group of small shops with their rough wooden shutters down, he is interested to see that all the houses in Corseul are constructed with brown wattle and daub walls topped by yellow and grey straw thatched roofs, so different from the construction seen further south.

At a steady canter they make their way to the center of the capital town. Caesar notes to himself when passing the burnt out remains of a long house, that a fire has obviously got out of control at some time and not recently as far as he can tell. He has to take a deep breath before passing an open waste pit by the road.

The grass is churned up and the main thoroughfare is a sea of mud after the recent rain. The large white washed building in the square is where they head. Coming to a stop in front of what is obviously the main entrance, Caesar stays on his horse as he addresses the waiting Kedehern, who stands before him flanked by four disarmed warriors as agreed. Without preamble he starts.

"I come this day to accept your offer of peace and the tribute you have for us," pausing he looks at Kedehern in the eye. "We hope that our peoples can be friends and allies. You will be offered the opportunity to become citizens of Rome and enjoy the protection that we give to our allies."

He looks again at a silent unmoving Kedehern.

To his annoyance centurion Persious Maximus interrupts him. Leaning over to him, he whispers in a low tone to Caesar some news that has just come from an informant. Listening with interest he takes a few seconds to decide, while many eyes watch him.

Caesar eventually turns and commands again in low tones to his centurion. "This chief is to come into custody we have to talk to him and I want you to send a cohort after the mules right away."

Turning to Kedehern he welcomes him in a friendly way.

"You are to come with us. There is no question about it. Do not worry for all will be well."

An unwilling Kedehern is checked for weapons and helped onto a spare horse. In the middle of the troop and under close watch he is escorted behind Caesar, as they leave for the journey back to the Roman camp.

Later, in the large reception tent where Caesar is sitting relaxing after his evening meal, Kederhem is led before him with his hands secured behind his back and a guard on each side of him.

"I have invited you back with us so you can explain where your tribute is, for there is no sign of it."

Kedehern is silent and makes no attempt to acknowledge Caesar or the fact that he spoke his language.

"I have been told that you have a good collection of pearls from your shores," after a pause.

"What do you say to that? Come on, I thought all you Celts were eloquent.

"Caesar if I had any they would be yours," Kedehern finally says.

"How can I believe you?" Caesar hesitates for a few seconds to let this sink in, then adds.

"Kedehern, I have a problem, the Coriosolites are a community trading in fish, pottery and lead with Britannia. You must have coffers of coin at least. You can pay me in your coins if you prefer, I do not mind for I am a reasonable man."

"Caesar, we are poor. Trade is not as you may think, we can give little."

"Then recall the two loaded down mules that were seen leaving your town as they headed for the hills a few hours ago, I will accept them and there will be no reprisals."

"This is most fair of you but you have been wrongly informed," pleads Kedehern.

"Guards put him in chains, I will be back shortly."

Standing up, Caesar leaves the tent and speaks with his secretary Alus Galleria. Returning just ten minutes later with a large silver goblet of wine; sipping thoughtfully for a minute or two, he places it on a nearby table.

"Do not take me for a fool, for you shall pay dearly. You are not a popular leader, chief, or whatever you call yourself, are you? I have had several reports now about this mule train, one says five mules. So we are at this minute torturing the informant to see if it is true. It is your last chance to recall the mules; do you agree to hand them over?"

Caesar is standing and looking down in disgust on the undignified Kedehern now lying on the carpeted floor covered in chains.

"This is your last chance...Well?" Caesar barks at him. There is no answer.

"You will never see your tribe again."

"You can start on him right away and keep it quiet, for I wish to retire now," orders Caesar.

"It will be done, you will have your answer by daybreak I am sure," said Persious Maximus standing to attention and hiding a smile on his face, for he knows there is a freshly bathed and perfumed young lady from Corseul awaiting Caesar in his tent ready to receive her reward for good information.

Soon familiar sounds from the tent drift around the fortified site as Caesar vents his passion.

While Kedehern, at this time is hung in chains by his ankles in agonising fashion, from a specially erected wooden crossbar. An early start to a long night of painful attention, administered by Caesar's special torture division. With a mouth full of rags he utters his first feeble scream.

*************


Writers notes.

I have found no records of fighting between the Coriosolite tribe and the Romans. But I'm sure that skirmishes took place, for some of these warriors will have fought alongside the Unelli and this most probably would have been noticed by Caesar, who was known to be vengeful when this happened.