Beric the Briton : a Story of the Roman InvasionHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
Beric the Briton : a Story of the Roman Invasion
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Britons -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Roman period, 55 B.C.-449 A.D. -- Fiction; Historical fiction
Nero sank back on his seat with an angry wave of his hand. He saw
that the sympathy of the audience was with the prisoner, and would
willingly have gained their approval by extending his clemency
towards her. The procession now returned to the centre of the arena,
where the girls, weeping, took leave of Ennia, who soon stood alone
a slight helpless figure in the sight of the great silent multitude.
Nero had spoken in a low tone to one of his attendants. The door of
another cage was opened, and a lion, larger in bulk than any that
had previously appeared, entered the arena, saluting the audience
with a deep roar. As it did so a tall figure, naked to the waist,
sprang forward from the group of attendants behind a strong barrier
at the other end of the arena. He was armed only with a sword which
he had snatched from a soldier standing next to him. Deep murmurs
of surprise rose from the spectators. The master of ceremonies
exchanged a few words with the emperor, and a body of men with
torches and trumpets ran forward and drove the lion back into its
den. Then Beric, who had been standing in front of Ennia, advanced
towards the emperor.
"Who are you?" Nero asked.
"I am Beric, once chief of the Iceni, now a British captive. I
received great kindness on my way hither from Norbanus, the father
of this maid. As we Britons are not ungrateful I am ready to
defend her to the death, and I crave as a boon, Caesar, that you
will permit me to battle against the lion with such arms as you
may decide."
"Are you a Christian?" the emperor asked coldly.
"I am not. I am of the religion of my nation, and Rome has always
permitted the people that have been subdued to worship in their
own fashion. I know nought of the Christian doctrines, but I know
that this damsel at least can have had nought to do with the burning
of Rome, and that though she may have forsaken the gods of Rome,
in this only can she have offended. I pray you, and I pray this
assembly, to let me stand as her champion against the beasts."
A burst of applause rose from the spectators. This was a novelty,
and an excitement beyond what they had bargained for. They had been
moved by the youth of the victim, and now the prospects of something
even more exciting than the rending to pieces of a defenceless
girl enlisted them in favour of the applicant. Moreover the Romans
intensely admired feats of bravery, and that this captive should
offer to face single handed an animal that was known to be one of
the most powerful of those in the amphitheatre filled them with
admiration. Accustomed as they were to gaze at athletes, they were
struck with the physique and strength of this young Briton, with
the muscles standing up massive and knotted through the white skin.
"Granted, granted!" they shouted; "let him fight."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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