Eblana, Hibernia, April 248
Eblana was now in sight after a short and uneventful crossing from Britannia. The small settlement was set on the shore of what the locals called Dubh Linn, the black pool, a well protected bay-like body of water on the side of the local river. For the six men of the crew it was the promise of drinks and whores, like every other port, although for their captain it was profit that was now in sight…
The town had about a hundred buildings, including four taverns and two temples, and was protected by a wooden wall that was being replaced by a stone wall that would make it the best defended place in all of Hibernia, a necessity for it was also the biggest target for every opportunistic bandit lord from the interior of the island.
While its population was mostly hibernian, about two dozen roman citizens also lived in the town, merchants who sold pricey such as metal objects, ceramics or richly dyed fabrics items to the tribesmen and bought what they had to export, mainly wool and some grain.
This year however trade was more interesting than usually because the romans had sent a vexilation of four centuries from the XX Valeria Victrix legion to help with the fortification work. The men were worked hard for building the new walls and towers and work on the
Rome’s power did not formally expend to Hibernia, but the sending of the vexilation was sign enough that it was more due to a lack of formal interest than to any technical impossibility…
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The ship had landed and the formalities accomplished with the dock official. Half of the sailors were already gone to the nearest tavern, but the captain was still onboard when he was hailed from the shore. Going to the bridge, he saw a group of local. One seemed a chief, with four men as his escort, although two of them were actually guarding seven other persons covered in chains, a man, two women, a teenager and three children.
The man who seemed to be the leader saluted the captain : “When sailed, man. I understand you are a merchant come from the Empire which rules the large island of the Britons and lands further than the mind can imagine ?”
“True enough, I’m a trader born in Gaul, but plying my trade in the waters of Britannia. My name is Iodocus, son of Bricius. What can I do for you ?”
“Two things actually. Buy me those slaves and promise me to only sell them to those that would take them to the furthest border of the empire, so I never see them again. And sell me some good wine to celebrate their disparition from this island.”
On this base negociations started, soon concluded to everyone but the slaves’ satisfaction. Another warchief had managed to usurp his laird’s position, until he too would get murdered, succumb on the field of battle or, although very unlikely, die in his sleep…