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Chapter 4
Chapter 4
1 month later
Finian Creel was eating a good few vegetables as a part of his dinner and relishing it. His war tent in northern Catuvellauni lands with his warband was a cold, wet and arid place. Finian shivered as the cold wind whipped across his back. He continued to eat his meal before being cut out by shouts outside his tent.
Shaking his head, he exited the tent and looked at the commotion. Lying on the floor with a dagger stuck to his back, was a young man with a blonde mop of hair. The soldiers were trying to debate on how to take the knife out without making the young man suffer death due to blood loss. Finian pinched his nose and asked “Does anyone know this man?”
“No your highness. His face his turned to the ground. We can’t recognize him like that.” One of the soldiers replied. Finian nodded and said “Upturn the body so that we can see his face. Carefully, we don’t want him to die.”
The soldiers nodded and slowly lifted the blonde and turned his body so that his face could be seen. Upturned blue eyes like that of the blue sky, soft chiseled cheeks and a small scar on his left eyebrow. The man was already dead. And Finian knew the man. This was Varun, the spy he had sent against Carvillius. He cursed internally and said “The man is dead. Carry the body into my tent and lay the body on my table.”
His soldiers nodded. One of them jerked the dagger out of Varun’s body as the others lifted him and carried him towards Finian’s tent. After five minutes after his troops had laid the body on his table inside his tent Finian looked at his second in command and said “No one is to come near my tent, make a 10 feet parameter, is that understood?”
The man hesitated and asked “Do you know this man?”
“Unfortunately for him and me, yes. Now follow my orders!”
The man scurried as he did so. Finian looked at Varun and sighed and rubbed his eyes in weariness. Varun was the son of one of finest officers, Cadell Deere. How was he to tell Cadell about this?
He sighed and started to feel Varun’s pockets and clothes for any clues as to what happened. After five minutes, Finian felt the rough touch of a parchment inside Varun’s inner coat. He took the parchment out. Ogham script runes were littered across the parchment in writing format. Finian was a literate man; a rarity in Britannia, however he was not the best and was quite slow in reading. He sighed and thought “This is going to be a long night.”
He slowly started to read through the letter.
General Creel,
As I write this, my pursuers follow me like wolves with the scent of prey. I will hide this letter in my secret pocket which only you and father know about. I will make it to camp, if that’s the last thing I do. General Creel, I am your finest spy, and I find the workings of a conspiracy. The Lord of West Ceint harbors ill intent, I beg of you, inform High King Cassibellanus about this.
Carvillius intends to betray the Confederation in favor of the Brigantes and Silures. These raids the past years, they were not random, they were orchestrated by the Brigantes and Carvillius along with the Silures. They planned this for who knows how many years. Carvillius has recruited the masses and trained them for war with thousands of men ready. He had 30,000 spears divided into 30 warbands while making known only 12 warbands to the Confederation. I know not how he managed to hide the warbands, but according to my findings, he used his relative isolation from the rest of the Confederation to his advantage in this one manner. As soon as the main Confederation warbands head north and east to fight the Silures and Brigantes, Carvillius’s 30 warbands will turn on the Confederation and seek to destroy the Confederation armies in one pitched battle. Plus his documents also read of possible Pictish aid as well. Some members of the Picts are angry that their leader did not attack us when we were weak fighting against Rome. They seek to send a good amount of warbands to aid the Brigantes in return for settlement in fertile lands in one of our northern kingdoms in the Confederation forming a Pictish state in South Britannia. I need not stress how disastrous this would be for our people. Now I must flee Lord Creel. If you find this letter, that means I have fulfilled my duty and go to the Death God Arawn in peace of mind. Please burn my body in the old Druidic rites and please…..tell my father not to be sad, tell him that I did my duty for Lord Cassibellanus in honor and that my death was no one’s fault but my own carelessness.
Yours sincerely,
Varun Deere.
The last sentences of the letter had a few dampness in them indicating tears had fallen on the parchments as Varun wrote the letter. Finian sighed in sadness. Such a useful spy, dead. He was a good man as well. He put the letter in his pocket and exited his tent and called for Cadell. He appeared before him in a few minutes.
“My liege, how can I be of help?” Cadell asked as he stood at attention in front of Finian. Finian looked at the man in his early forties with some trepidation. The man’s slightly greying hair and slight laugh lines aside, the man looked exactly like his son. Finian simply gestured for the man to enter his tent.
Cadell looked at him with confusion visible in his eyes and entered the tent. His eyes immediately went to Varun lying dead on the table and gasped.
“I am sorry, Cadell……but your son died in the line of duty.” Finian said softly. Cadell sobbed as his knees gave out beneath him as his draped his hands over Varun’s bodies and started to wail. His piercing wail of despair made Finian cringe as the man’s tears flowed in abundance.
“I told you….I told you, you idiot to not become a spy……” Cadell murmured and croaked between sobs. “I told you…..”
Finian sat quietly on the side keeping one calm hand on Cadell’s shoulder.
“What was he doing?” Cadell asked between sobs.
Finian hesitated. He couldn’t give the full truth, but at least some parts could be divulged. “Civil War within the confederation is coming. We know this now due to your son’s efforts. He will go down in history as perhaps the savior of the Confederation.”
Cadell sobs renewed as he stuttered. “As he should….As he should…..”
Finian stayed the whole night in the tent laying a comforting presence for the grieving father.
“It is a sad sight to see.” Finian thought sadly. “For a father must now give the last rites of his son. No parent wishes for that to ever happen."
***
The Next Day
Cadell’s tears had dried out by the morning. Finian murmured calming words to his ears. When dawn came, Finian rose and said “Cadell, you need not take part in the war coming on. Take your son’s body, perform the last rites, and mourn with your wife. No doubt she needs to be informed as well, of this tragedy.”
Cadell nodded silently. He stood up silently and unsheathed his sword. He offered it to Finian. Finian nodded as he grasped the sword and took it. Cadell had resigned from military life for the time being.
“Go and pack your things.” Finian spoke gently. “I will order a cart for your son’s body. And remember, he is a martyr.”
“Thank you.” Cadell replied just as softly as he lumbered towards his own tent.
Finian sighed in sadness as he looked at the body one last time before calling for his attendant.
“Arrange a cart for the body. Escort Cadell with the cart. Also arrange a horse for me. I need to go back to Fort Tamesas. I have urgent news for Lord Catuvellauni.” Finian ordered.
His attendant nodded. Half an hour later, Finian was riding across the paths towards Fort Tamesas.
***
4 days later
Cassibellanus was sitting in his room looking at his maps as he heard the knocks on his door.
“Who is it?” He asked as he continued to look at the maps trying to determine a good strategy for the upcoming war.
“It’s General Finian Creel, sire. I have news from your erm, private request.” Finian’s voice came through the door. Cassibellanus jerked forward as he heard Finian’s voice. Finally some news! He opened the door and saw the somber face of his general.
“What happened? Why so somber?” Cassibellanus asked concerned.
Finian said nothing. He entered the room and sat down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his entire face before he took out a piece of parchment out from his robes. He handed it to Cassibellanus and said “My Lord, read.”
Cassibellanus nodded and started to read. With every sentence, Cassibellanus’s horror grew. He lowered the parchment onto the table atop one of his maps and sat down in shock in front of Finian.
He shook his head and asked “What happened to the spy?”
“Varun Deere was stabbed in the back in a dagger. According to my troops he stumbled into the camp and fell down face first into the ground and died. I found the parchment in a hidden pocket in his sleeves. He is dead. I have given his father leave from the army.” Finian murmured.
Cassibellanus nodded mutedly. He sighed and murmured. “To think, Carvillius would stoop so low……”
“The man was always jealous of you. Even when you were a simple warlord.” Finian replied. “He didn’t see eye to eye with you unlike Segovax and Taximagulus. He is a radical. His 30,000 spears will be a challenge for us.”
“Yes indeed.” Cassibellanus murmured. “I had suspicions. I think Segovax and Bodica did as well considering the less amount of West Ceint traders and merchants arriving from West Ceint. My guess is that they were conscripted then.”
“Indeed.” Finian nodded in agreement.
“Altogether the entire Confederation barring Carvillius can raise 80,000 men divided into 80 warbands. The Brigantes can muster up around 50,000 men from themselves and their allies and vassals. The Silures can muster up 20,000. Carvillius 30,000. We do not know how much Picts will aid Herne and Carvillius, but I would estimate at least 5000. Altogether estimates would be 105,000 men against our 80,000. This is not good.” Cassibellanus stated as he rubbed his head in frustration.
“What is our new strategy then?” Finian asked.
“I would like to ask the others first but my own would be to attack and neutralize the Silures first and then Carvillius while remaining on the defensive in the north. After that take on the Birgantes.” Cassibellanus murmured as he added a piece of wooden square in the position of West Ceint marking the area as an enemy.
Finian nodded. “Shall I go and order the men to escort the other Kings and Queen here?”
“Yes, that would prudent. Work fast as possible Finian.” Cassibellanus replied. Finian nodded. He bowed to Cassibellanus and then exited the room.
Cassibellanus sighed as he looked at the roof. Flashbacks of his younger days spent with Taximagulus, Segovax, Carvillius and Cingetorix raided his mind. The five of them against the world it had been, the five of them vowed to be friends forever that fateful day 26 years ago. Cassibellanus clenched his hands. Politics, dirty politics, those were all to blame. And Cassibellanus hesitantly conceded, Carvillius, envy and greed. He let a few tears stream down his eyes before clearing his eyes of them.
In his place no longer stood, Cassibellanus, the kind High King and benefactor. Now stood Cassibellanus, the warlord and conqueror.
1 month later
Finian Creel was eating a good few vegetables as a part of his dinner and relishing it. His war tent in northern Catuvellauni lands with his warband was a cold, wet and arid place. Finian shivered as the cold wind whipped across his back. He continued to eat his meal before being cut out by shouts outside his tent.
Shaking his head, he exited the tent and looked at the commotion. Lying on the floor with a dagger stuck to his back, was a young man with a blonde mop of hair. The soldiers were trying to debate on how to take the knife out without making the young man suffer death due to blood loss. Finian pinched his nose and asked “Does anyone know this man?”
“No your highness. His face his turned to the ground. We can’t recognize him like that.” One of the soldiers replied. Finian nodded and said “Upturn the body so that we can see his face. Carefully, we don’t want him to die.”
The soldiers nodded and slowly lifted the blonde and turned his body so that his face could be seen. Upturned blue eyes like that of the blue sky, soft chiseled cheeks and a small scar on his left eyebrow. The man was already dead. And Finian knew the man. This was Varun, the spy he had sent against Carvillius. He cursed internally and said “The man is dead. Carry the body into my tent and lay the body on my table.”
His soldiers nodded. One of them jerked the dagger out of Varun’s body as the others lifted him and carried him towards Finian’s tent. After five minutes after his troops had laid the body on his table inside his tent Finian looked at his second in command and said “No one is to come near my tent, make a 10 feet parameter, is that understood?”
The man hesitated and asked “Do you know this man?”
“Unfortunately for him and me, yes. Now follow my orders!”
The man scurried as he did so. Finian looked at Varun and sighed and rubbed his eyes in weariness. Varun was the son of one of finest officers, Cadell Deere. How was he to tell Cadell about this?
He sighed and started to feel Varun’s pockets and clothes for any clues as to what happened. After five minutes, Finian felt the rough touch of a parchment inside Varun’s inner coat. He took the parchment out. Ogham script runes were littered across the parchment in writing format. Finian was a literate man; a rarity in Britannia, however he was not the best and was quite slow in reading. He sighed and thought “This is going to be a long night.”
He slowly started to read through the letter.
General Creel,
As I write this, my pursuers follow me like wolves with the scent of prey. I will hide this letter in my secret pocket which only you and father know about. I will make it to camp, if that’s the last thing I do. General Creel, I am your finest spy, and I find the workings of a conspiracy. The Lord of West Ceint harbors ill intent, I beg of you, inform High King Cassibellanus about this.
Carvillius intends to betray the Confederation in favor of the Brigantes and Silures. These raids the past years, they were not random, they were orchestrated by the Brigantes and Carvillius along with the Silures. They planned this for who knows how many years. Carvillius has recruited the masses and trained them for war with thousands of men ready. He had 30,000 spears divided into 30 warbands while making known only 12 warbands to the Confederation. I know not how he managed to hide the warbands, but according to my findings, he used his relative isolation from the rest of the Confederation to his advantage in this one manner. As soon as the main Confederation warbands head north and east to fight the Silures and Brigantes, Carvillius’s 30 warbands will turn on the Confederation and seek to destroy the Confederation armies in one pitched battle. Plus his documents also read of possible Pictish aid as well. Some members of the Picts are angry that their leader did not attack us when we were weak fighting against Rome. They seek to send a good amount of warbands to aid the Brigantes in return for settlement in fertile lands in one of our northern kingdoms in the Confederation forming a Pictish state in South Britannia. I need not stress how disastrous this would be for our people. Now I must flee Lord Creel. If you find this letter, that means I have fulfilled my duty and go to the Death God Arawn in peace of mind. Please burn my body in the old Druidic rites and please…..tell my father not to be sad, tell him that I did my duty for Lord Cassibellanus in honor and that my death was no one’s fault but my own carelessness.
Yours sincerely,
Varun Deere.
The last sentences of the letter had a few dampness in them indicating tears had fallen on the parchments as Varun wrote the letter. Finian sighed in sadness. Such a useful spy, dead. He was a good man as well. He put the letter in his pocket and exited his tent and called for Cadell. He appeared before him in a few minutes.
“My liege, how can I be of help?” Cadell asked as he stood at attention in front of Finian. Finian looked at the man in his early forties with some trepidation. The man’s slightly greying hair and slight laugh lines aside, the man looked exactly like his son. Finian simply gestured for the man to enter his tent.
Cadell looked at him with confusion visible in his eyes and entered the tent. His eyes immediately went to Varun lying dead on the table and gasped.
“I am sorry, Cadell……but your son died in the line of duty.” Finian said softly. Cadell sobbed as his knees gave out beneath him as his draped his hands over Varun’s bodies and started to wail. His piercing wail of despair made Finian cringe as the man’s tears flowed in abundance.
“I told you….I told you, you idiot to not become a spy……” Cadell murmured and croaked between sobs. “I told you…..”
Finian sat quietly on the side keeping one calm hand on Cadell’s shoulder.
“What was he doing?” Cadell asked between sobs.
Finian hesitated. He couldn’t give the full truth, but at least some parts could be divulged. “Civil War within the confederation is coming. We know this now due to your son’s efforts. He will go down in history as perhaps the savior of the Confederation.”
Cadell sobs renewed as he stuttered. “As he should….As he should…..”
Finian stayed the whole night in the tent laying a comforting presence for the grieving father.
“It is a sad sight to see.” Finian thought sadly. “For a father must now give the last rites of his son. No parent wishes for that to ever happen."
***
The Next Day
Cadell’s tears had dried out by the morning. Finian murmured calming words to his ears. When dawn came, Finian rose and said “Cadell, you need not take part in the war coming on. Take your son’s body, perform the last rites, and mourn with your wife. No doubt she needs to be informed as well, of this tragedy.”
Cadell nodded silently. He stood up silently and unsheathed his sword. He offered it to Finian. Finian nodded as he grasped the sword and took it. Cadell had resigned from military life for the time being.
“Go and pack your things.” Finian spoke gently. “I will order a cart for your son’s body. And remember, he is a martyr.”
“Thank you.” Cadell replied just as softly as he lumbered towards his own tent.
Finian sighed in sadness as he looked at the body one last time before calling for his attendant.
“Arrange a cart for the body. Escort Cadell with the cart. Also arrange a horse for me. I need to go back to Fort Tamesas. I have urgent news for Lord Catuvellauni.” Finian ordered.
His attendant nodded. Half an hour later, Finian was riding across the paths towards Fort Tamesas.
***
4 days later
Cassibellanus was sitting in his room looking at his maps as he heard the knocks on his door.
“Who is it?” He asked as he continued to look at the maps trying to determine a good strategy for the upcoming war.
“It’s General Finian Creel, sire. I have news from your erm, private request.” Finian’s voice came through the door. Cassibellanus jerked forward as he heard Finian’s voice. Finally some news! He opened the door and saw the somber face of his general.
“What happened? Why so somber?” Cassibellanus asked concerned.
Finian said nothing. He entered the room and sat down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his entire face before he took out a piece of parchment out from his robes. He handed it to Cassibellanus and said “My Lord, read.”
Cassibellanus nodded and started to read. With every sentence, Cassibellanus’s horror grew. He lowered the parchment onto the table atop one of his maps and sat down in shock in front of Finian.
He shook his head and asked “What happened to the spy?”
“Varun Deere was stabbed in the back in a dagger. According to my troops he stumbled into the camp and fell down face first into the ground and died. I found the parchment in a hidden pocket in his sleeves. He is dead. I have given his father leave from the army.” Finian murmured.
Cassibellanus nodded mutedly. He sighed and murmured. “To think, Carvillius would stoop so low……”
“The man was always jealous of you. Even when you were a simple warlord.” Finian replied. “He didn’t see eye to eye with you unlike Segovax and Taximagulus. He is a radical. His 30,000 spears will be a challenge for us.”
“Yes indeed.” Cassibellanus murmured. “I had suspicions. I think Segovax and Bodica did as well considering the less amount of West Ceint traders and merchants arriving from West Ceint. My guess is that they were conscripted then.”
“Indeed.” Finian nodded in agreement.
“Altogether the entire Confederation barring Carvillius can raise 80,000 men divided into 80 warbands. The Brigantes can muster up around 50,000 men from themselves and their allies and vassals. The Silures can muster up 20,000. Carvillius 30,000. We do not know how much Picts will aid Herne and Carvillius, but I would estimate at least 5000. Altogether estimates would be 105,000 men against our 80,000. This is not good.” Cassibellanus stated as he rubbed his head in frustration.
“What is our new strategy then?” Finian asked.
“I would like to ask the others first but my own would be to attack and neutralize the Silures first and then Carvillius while remaining on the defensive in the north. After that take on the Birgantes.” Cassibellanus murmured as he added a piece of wooden square in the position of West Ceint marking the area as an enemy.
Finian nodded. “Shall I go and order the men to escort the other Kings and Queen here?”
“Yes, that would prudent. Work fast as possible Finian.” Cassibellanus replied. Finian nodded. He bowed to Cassibellanus and then exited the room.
Cassibellanus sighed as he looked at the roof. Flashbacks of his younger days spent with Taximagulus, Segovax, Carvillius and Cingetorix raided his mind. The five of them against the world it had been, the five of them vowed to be friends forever that fateful day 26 years ago. Cassibellanus clenched his hands. Politics, dirty politics, those were all to blame. And Cassibellanus hesitantly conceded, Carvillius, envy and greed. He let a few tears stream down his eyes before clearing his eyes of them.
In his place no longer stood, Cassibellanus, the kind High King and benefactor. Now stood Cassibellanus, the warlord and conqueror.
- Sārthākā
- Word Count: 2k