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
Beric laughed. "You should have said a giant, Berenice, which
would have been much nearer the truth. And now I will tell you my
story;" and during the next two hours he gave her a sketch of all
that had passed since they had last parted in Britain.
"There, Cneius Nepo," Berenice said when he had finished. "You
never thought for a moment that your pupil, who used to pore with
you over those parchments, till I often wished I could throw them
in the fire when I wanted him to play with me, was to go through
such adventures--to match himself first against Suetonius, and then
against my father, both times with honour; to be Nero's bodyguard;
to say nothing of fighting in the arena, and getting up a revolt
in the palace of Caesar."
"I expected great things of him," Nepo said; "but not like these.
I fancied he would become a great chief among the British, and that
he might perhaps induce them to adopt something of our civilization.
I had fancied him as a wise ruler; and, seeing how fond he was of
the exercise of arms, I had thought long before the insurrection
broke out that some day he might lead his countrymen to battle
against us, and that, benefiting by his study of Caesar and other
military writers, he would give far more trouble to the Romans than
even Caractacus had done. But assuredly I never dreamt of him as
fighting a lion barehanded in a Roman arena in defence of a Roman
girl. As to marriages, I own that the thought crossed my mind that
the union of a great British chief with the daughter of a Roman of
rank like your father would be an augury of peace, and might lead
to better relations between the two countries."
"That dream must be given up," Berenice said seriously, "there are
two obstacles. But I have no doubt Aemilia would make quite as good
a chieftainess as I should have done. Some day, Aemilia, if you
return to Britain with Beric, as I hope you will do, and Pollio
becomes a commander of a legion, I will get him to apply for
service there. It is cold and foggy; but wood is a good deal more
plentiful and cheaper than it is at Rome, and with good fires one
can exist anywhere. And now it is time for us to be going. We will
take another path in returning down the hills, so that any one who
noticed us coming up will not see us as we descend. Nepo's toga and
my stola are hidden in a grove just outside the town, and it will
be dusk by the time we arrive there. Kiss me, Aemilia; I am glad
that I know you, for I have heard much of you from Pollio. I am
glad that Beric has chosen so well. Goodbye, Beric; I hope we may
meet again before long, and that without danger to any of us. You
may salute me if Aemilia does not object--I told Pollio I should
permit it;" and she laughingly lifted up her face to him. "He never
used to kiss me when I was a child," she said to Aemilia. "I always
thought it very unkind, and was greatly discontented at it. Now,
Nepo, let us be going."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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