Sunday 21 April 2019

#Sundaysnippet #Agricola's Bane


Sunday Snippet! 

#A2ZChallenge Blogging - Theme: Ancient Roman Scotland during the Flavian era


Since there's a day off from posting my #A2ZChallenge posts, it's time to get a glimpse of who Agricola's legions are up against when they are campaigning in #Caledonia. 

My #historicalfiction series- Celtic Fervour Series - is essentially an interwoven clan saga about members of an Iron Age tribe from the Hillfort of Garrigill, in northern Brigantia, who have fled from the ancient Roman invasion otherwise they'd have died fighting, or would have been subsumed so much into the Roman Empire that they would have lost their identity. 

Over the course of the 4 published novels, the time frame moves on from 
Book 1 - A.D. 71,when the Britannic Governor Quintus Petillius Cerialis is invading and suppressing revolt in Brigantia (Cumbria & Yorkshire, England) to
Book 4 -A.D. 84 when General Agricola, now Governor of Britannia, is invading north-east Caledonia (Scotland). 

My clan warriors age accordingly and by the time it gets to Book 4 the main players are now the second generation clan members, those who were just babies when the series opens. Their mothers and fathers, if still alive, play a minor role as the series progresses.

At the end of Book 3 After Whorl: Donning Double Cloaks there is a huge confrontation between the armies of General Agricola and the amassed Celtic Iron-Age tribes under leadership of a Caledon named Calgach. This battle took place at Beinn na Ciche (my version of Mons Graupius) but the Celtic tribes have been defeated, after which they have fled to the Caledon mountains -  to lick their wounds, and to work out what to do next. 

Book 4 opens with second generation Enya of Garrigill (aged 14) out on patrol duty near Ceann Druimin where her clan are sheltered, the threat of new Roman attack always a possibility. This extract is from Chapter Two.

Enjoy!

My Enya- www.123rf.com
When some truly thunderous flapping of capercaillie wings rent the air, Enya’s warrior hackles rose. Nith’s strident crow-cry sent small birds to rise from their shelter in a flutter of distress when a clash of metal on metal clanged around the forest.

Fear fled in an instant, an exhilaration of the hunt replacing it. Enya took to her heels down the slope after Feargus, skittering and slithering her way through the saplings and around the more mature trees towards the denser glade below. More crow calls came from Nith but none of the capercaillie. It was bellowing human cries that rent the glen.

Colm was being set upon!

Her long knife was barely drawn from its sheath when Feargus launched himself around a thick clump of blaeberry bushes. His spear hurtled through the air before thudding into the lower body of a Roman soldier with such force it knocked the man sideways. The tip entering just below the chain mail meant more chance of it disabling the man entirely. The Roman’s gurgling cry was of astonishment as well as agony.

A flash of dull metal to her left alerted her.

Enya’s spear did not miss its mark either when it thumped a second soldier to the ground, a man who had bent towards the prone body of Colm. Sheer hatred was in her triumphant call when she saw the enemy struggle to rise.

“Free yourself from my spear, you horse dung!"

Feargus pursued a third soldier who had turned tail and had run off. Devoid of his spear, he was too far away to brandish his other blade but the Roman had no chance of escape. A whup, whup, whup rent the air as Feargus’ long knife found its mark after spiralling across the intervening space, hilt, tip, hilt, tip, hilt, tip – the solid hilt accurately finding its mark between the soldier’s shoulders. Feargus was upon the felled man before the victim could summon the strength to climb to his feet. Enya had no need to watch her friend from Monymusk as he hacked at the Roman’s legs, before the last slashes with his knife were made.

When Enya reached Colm, the soldier she had poled to the ground squealed and bleated as he squirmed to free his upper arm from the entrapment, his attempt to break the shaft unsuccessful. Frantically swinging it in her direction, the young auxiliary whirled and bucked to avoid the slashes of her blade. As she raised her long knife anew, the end of the spear walloped against her jaw, the impact splintering the tip, the sudden pain excruciating. The blow was not sound enough to knock her over, but the jarring sent the man sprawling. Landing heavily on his side, he yelped when the pole cracked asunder, the spear tip still stuck firmly in his upper arm. Forcing him onto his front with one well-aimed boot roll, Enya clipped away the shallow helmet neck-guard with her knife.
NJ- reenactment auxiliary

She had him at her mercy but she would give him none.

Striking repeatedly at the freed flesh with her long blade, which was not much shorter than the Roman’s gladius, a white hot rage engulfed her. Blood spattered and bone cracked.

Would her Celtic lands never be free of the Roman scum? The next cut was for Ruoridh. Another hack was for her cousin, Beathan, and more for Feargus’ dead kin from Monymusk. Her blade continued a repetitious slashing. Her brother would be found or avenged. Either way, she vowed to remove as many of the Roman usurpers as she could.

“Enya!”

Fergus’ noisy reprimand eventually penetrated her frenzy. Lowering her blade she stared at him, the thudding inside her chest almost engulfing her.

It was his palms cradling her shoulders and his soft voice at her ear that reminded her to breathe properly. “Enough. He will trouble Colm no longer.”

Shaking off her battle-rage, Enya forced away the tears that pooled and hovered on her lashes. The sleet-dappled undergrowth around her ran crimson around the fallen bodies. Gulping down some deep breaths, she eased herself away and bent to wipe her knife blood-free on the grasses nearby, forcing an unnatural unconcern. “Is Colm badly hurt?”

What can you deduce from the short excerpt? Tell me in the comments box. 

Till tomorrow and another #A2ZChallenge post...have a great day.

Slainthe! 

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