Reign of Iron by Angus Watson Read Free Book Online Page A

explained to Walfdan that Lowa’s army was all but destroyed so they needed to delay the Roman invasion until she could muster and prepare a new one.
    Walfdan already knew about the situation in Britain from merchants and had a reply ready. “Gaul is finished,” he said. “The land is united for once, but unfortunately it is united in a mood of beaten, dejected submission. Tribes all over Gaul, vastly more numerous than the invader, with much greater resources than the Bel-cursed Romans, have capitulated with little more than a whimper. Some of them did not even whimper. A little backbone and cooperation would have seen us triumph, but most Gauls have behaved like self-interested cowards. I’ve lived a long time and hitherto been proud to call myself a Gaul. Now I am ashamed.”
    Atlas said a few consoling things about the Romans’ military training and the Gaulish tribes’ lack of cohesion, but Chamanca stayed quiet. She agreed with Walfdan. Ducklings with their beaks removed would have given ravening wolves more of a challenge than most of Gaul had offered the Romans. Walfdan’s own tribe, the Fenn-Nodens, had almost all died in the struggle against the invaders so at least, she thought, he had that rock of pride to cling to.
    Atlas finished by telling Walfdan that the Britons sang the praises of the Fenn-Nodens and toasted their valour, then asked, “So what can we do?”
    “My plan is to go helmet in hands to the Germans to see if they can help. A vast German army has crossed the Renos river. They are the best chance of defeating the Romans, or at least delaying their invasion of Britain.”
    “Your information is a year old,” Atlas said. “Caesar massacred a huge host of Germans under Harry the Fister last year.”
    “These are different Germans – two tribes from further east, the Ootipeats and the Tengoterry. They were all set to wage glorious war and conquer Harry the Fister’s territory in Germany and Gaul, but they arrived and found nobody to fight apart from the old, the young and the few blind Warriors who had survived the Romans’ torture. Now they have a gigantic army which they’ve never used. I do not think it will be hard to persuade them to march against our common foe. I suspect that Caesar knows this, and is already on his way north to meet them.”
    Atlas grunted his assent. It did seem like the best option; the only option in fact. They walked on, Atlas and Chamanca leading, Walfdan and the girl behind.
    A short time later they were surprised by a Roman patrol. Chamanca cursed herself for not hearing or sensing them, but when the cheating bastards hid in woodland, downwind in the dark, there wasn’t much you could do. As soon as legionary silhouettes appeared on the road ahead she reached for her weapons, but Atlas put a hand on her arm. He was right, they couldn’t fight. Dozens of Romans emerged from the trees all around them, many holding aloft previously concealed torches which shone off their weapons and armour.
    They held their hands up in submission as the legionaries parted to let through a centurion. He was possibly the tallest man Chamanca had ever seen; certainly the tallest Roman. He had a cheery face and the stoop of a man who had banged his head on many doorframes.
    “So!” he said in broken Gaulish. “What do you?”
    “These two are a merchant and his daughter,” said Atlas in Latin, pointing at Walfdan and Spring. “We are their guards, escorting them back to Soyzonix land.”
    The centurion laughed and replied in Latin. “Can I buy something then?”
    “We have no wares.”
    “Exactly!” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Of all the terrible excuses! You really should have carried a cauldron and a ladle or two if you’d wanted me to believe that you’re merchants. You don’t even have a donkey! Oh, it’s too much. You are morons. Men, take—”
    “We sold all our wares to the Romans at Karnac,” said Walfdan.
    “Including your donkey?”
    “We sold