Epilogue
It was a raw autumn day, four years after Lucius had ridden away from the Roman army to join the Durotriges living on the edge of the Empire. He gazed out to sea, his eyes searching for the ship that would bring Garamaros, Drustan and their crew home from their last trading trip for this year.
The Romans had now conquered or subdued all the lands of Britannia between the Humber Estuary and the Hafren Sea.
Those parts of the island that remained under the control of the Britons included the lands of their neighbors, the Silures, their trading partners across the Hafren Sea, and the northern tribes, with whom they had little contact yet.
After some initial distrust, Lucius had been fully accepted into Sorcha’s clan of Durotriges. If it could be could called a clan, because it was like no other.
For as long as the Roman army had campaigned in the south, the settlement had become a haven for displaced Durotriges, no matter whether related or not.
Any Durotriges was accepted and folded into the settlement’s community.
And the widows of Mai Dun had been diligent in assimilating the menfolk into the family network through marriage.
Lucius could only applaud their success.
As a result, handfast celebrations had become a frequent occurrence in the settlement over the last few years, since his own to Sorcha.
Their loving hadn’t stopped, and Lucius doubted it ever would. What else could he say except amor vincit omnia—love conquers all.
The settlement had now expanded towards its outer ditch and bank, which had previously surrounded the field used for the horses.
Higher ramparts and a deeper ditch had been created.
The Dumnone remained a constant threat, one they were able to deter but not extinguish, even with their multiple scorpios to fire bolts at them.
Trade goods brought the settlement much wealth. The place had become a thriving center for artisans, makers of fine weapons and tools, as well as gold and silver craftsmen attracted by their trade links with the Gauls. The women’s embroidery on fine imported cloths also sold well.
But how long they could hold on here, Lucius did not know. That was in the hands of the gods. They were mere mortals, striving to succeed, beseeching the gods for assistance, and ever at their mercy.
A gentle hand slid across Lucius’s back and came to rest at his waist. “Can you recognize them yet?”
Sorcha.
He shook his head and tugged her close for a long kiss.
“Pater, you’re crushing me,” their three-year-old daughter Carys complained from where she sat on her mother’s hip.
“And the baby,” Sorcha said, smoothing a hand over her bump.
Lucius smiled and lifted Carys from Sorcha’s arms. “Keep watch on the sea for grandpater’s boat. It has just appeared.” He nodded towards the horizon.
Lucius’s fingers brushed the smooth glass beads of the necklace Sorcha wore. With Garamaros’s agreement, Alina had recently presented the golden-yellow bead necklace to her. “And will you give our daughter these beads?” he asked Sorcha.
“I shall, when the time is right. Garamaros made the first bead when my mother married Arthmael and added beads to the necklace with every new baby. Each bead was crafted as a symbol of his enduring love, but he also imbued them with all the enchantments for protection that his Druid mother had taught him. I felt their comfort and power as soon as mother put the first one around my neck.” She touched them, a wistful look on her face.
“I do not doubt the powerful protection they bring. It’s my mother’s wish that the beads be passed down from generation to generation through each eldest daughter give protection to every wearer. ”
“Aah,” Lucius said. “But what of the one Adler took from you? Have you never asked for it? I’m sure he would return it.”
“I know he would—he has already offered to do so many times. I refuse because he deserves to keep it and have its protection.”
“It seems to have worked for him so far.”
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “My mother’s hope is that if each wearer in each generation only gives away one bead to someone who saves her life, or protects her—like Adler did not hand me over to the Roman army, treated me with respect while I was his prisoner, and returned me to my people—then the keepsake will provide protection to seventy-eight generations of her descendants. ”
The scope of Alina’s ambition for her charmed beads staggered him. “That’s a long time into the future—maybe two millennia.” Any one of Alina’s eldest female descendants in each generation could be struck down before passing on the talisman, or it could be stolen or destroyed.
“It will be a fitting legacy of the enduring love between Garamaros and my mother.”
“Indeed, it will… as are you, of course,” he said and drew her closer for another kiss.
When Lucius’s gaze next searched the sea for the trading boat, he recognized Garamaros at its prow. Beside him stood Adler, his arm around a petite cloaked figure.
Intriguing.
Had his brother brought back a refugee met on the journey? Or had he finally used his excellent negotiating skills to bring home a wife? Either way, a spark of concern ignited in Lucius’s stomach.
It had been a risky decision to send Adler with Garamaros to Gesoriacum, the port on the Gaulish coast used by the Roman navy.
His knowledge of the place was needed to assist with selling their grain crop to the naval granary this first time.
However, if Adler was recognized despite his Celtic clothes, his longer hair, and his flowing moustache, he could be traced back to Dun Creg, endangering them all.
The settlement could easily be destroyed by the Roman army or navy. They might have to abandon Dun Creg and seek sanctuary with the defiant Silures. And should Lucius fall into Roman hands again, the charge of desertion against him would bring a death sentence.
The ember of concern in his stomach gained oxygen and glowed brighter.
How long could their freedom and happiness last?
He didn’t know, but he would enjoy the love he shared with Sorcha and the companionship of the Durotriges for as long as he was able.
They had built a happy and worthwhile life for themselves and their people at Dun Creg. Their family grew and so did their joy and contentment. He would not squander even one precious moment of his happiness worrying about life outside this place of peace.
They would stay prepared, if the need arose to defeat an enemy, but he would never again let Rome control his life.
His life, now and forever, was one of love, family and freedom here.
* * *
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Read on for a preview of Sons of Rebellion, the next instalment of The Divided Isles Saga.