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
Although Beric had given up all hope of again seeing his mother
alive, the news of her death was a terrible blow to him, and he
wept unrestrainedly until Aska placed a hand on his shoulder. "You
must not give way to sorrow, Beric. You have her people to look to.
She has gone to the Green Island, where she will dwell in happiness,
and where your father has been long expecting her. It is not at a
death that we Britons weep, knowing as we do that those that have
gone are to be envied. Arouse yourself! there is much to be done.
The cattle will probably be here in the morning. We have to question
the people here as to the great swamps, and get them to send to the
Fen people for guides who will lead us across the marshes to some
spot where we can dwell above the level of the highest waters."
Beric put aside his private grief for the time, and several of the
natives of the village who were accustomed to penetrate the swamps
in search of game were collected and questioned as to the country.
None, however, could give much useful information. There was a
large river that ran through it, with innumerable smaller streams
that wandered here and there. None had penetrated far beyond the
margin, partly because they were afraid of losing their way, partly
because of the enmity of the Fen people.
These were of a different race to themselves, and were a remnant
of those whom the Iceni had driven out of their country, and who,
instead of going west, had taken refuge in the swamps, whither the
invaders had neither the power nor inclination to follow them.
"It is strange," Aska said, "that just as they fled before us
centuries ago, so we have now to fly before the Romans. Still, as
they have maintained themselves there, so may we. But it will be
necessary that we should try and secure the goodwill of these people
and assure them that we do not come among them as foes."
"There is no quarrel between us now," the headman of the hamlet
said. "There has not been for many generations. They know that we
do not seek to molest them, while they are not strong enough to
molest us. There is trade between all the hamlets near the swamps
and their people; they bring fish and wildfowl, and baskets which
they weave out of rushes, and sell to us in exchange for woven
cloth, for garments, and sometimes for swine which they keep upon
some of their islands.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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