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
"I do not mean this as a farewell for ever, Beric," Pollio said.
"I foresee that we are going to have troubled times in Rome. Nero
was the last of his race, and no one now has greater right than his
fellows to be emperor. Now that they have once begun these military
insurrections, for the proclamation of Galba was nothing else, I
fear we shall have many more. The throne is open now to any ambitious
man who is strong enough to grasp it. Generals will no longer think
of defeating the enemies of their country and of ruling provinces.
As propraetors they will seek to gain the love and vote of their
soldiers; discipline will become relaxed, and the basest instead
of the noblest passions of the troops be appealed to. We may have
civil wars again, like those of Marius and Scylla, and Anthony and
Brutus. I hate the intrigues of Rome, and loathe the arts of the
demagogue, and to this our generals will descend. Therefore I shall
soon apply for service in Britain again. Muro approves, and when
I obtain an office there he will come out and build another villa,
and settle and end his days there.
"There is little chance of the troops in Britain dealing in intrigues.
They are too far away to make their voice heard, too few to impose
their will upon Rome. Therefore he agrees with me that there is more
chance of peace and contentment there than anywhere. The Britons
have given no trouble since the Iceni surrendered, and I look to
the time when we shall raise our towns there and live surrounded by
a contented people. You may visit Muro at his house in Camalodunum
once again, Beric."
"It will be a happy day for us when you come, Pollio, you and Berenice;
and glad indeed shall I be to have her noble father dwelling among
us. Whatever troubles there may be in other parts of Britain I
cannot say, but I think I can answer that in Eastern Britain there
will never again be a rising."
"They are throwing off the ropes," Pollio said; "we must go ashore.
May the gods keep and bless you both!"
"And may my God, who has almost become Beric's God, also bless you
and Berenice and Muro!" Aemilia said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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