Across the Waters: A Story of the Migration

Chapter XLI: A Faithful Man

Spring came and with it news from the south. The oppida at Ictis had been assailed by a large force of the Casse, and the garrison nearly overwhelmed. My old friend and compatriot Lugort was among the slain, his Ordmalica butchered by enemy slingers before the rams had even breached the walls.
https://i272.photobucket.com/albums/...thofLugort.jpg
Had it not been for the stalwart defense of the Dubosaverlicica and the Eiras, who alone had slain nearly a third of the enemy force, the hill-fort would have surely been lost.
https://i272.photobucket.com/albums/...ense-Ictis.jpg
The words of Barae were not forgotten, and Aneirin went to work with a vigor, calling more warriors to his banner from among the Calydrae. He dispatched messengers to Erain to order levies to be sent from the Goidilic tribes, but his messages went unheeded. Erain was firmly in the hands of Praesutagos and Erbin moc Dumnacos, his brother-in-law and the governor of Emain-Macha, flatly refused Aneirin’s call for warriors.
Dark times were upon the Aedui. I followed Aneirin wherever he went, my sword at his disposal, to guard his person from dangers without—and within. . .
Aneirin’s young sons were fast growing toward manhood, and with them his hopes for a lineage. They were his pride and joy and he doted upon them, like any father. And perhaps more so.
A granary inside Attuaca was torched one dark night in Fidnanos, apparently by Casse saboteurs. Aneirin grew steadfastly more suspicious of all who trafficked within the city, to the point of evicting several strangers who were ostensibly on their way to visit kinsmen in the north.
Diedre’s daughter Faran spent most of her time in the palace now, playing with Aneirin’s young sons and looking out for their safety. It was an incredible responsibility, but she was no longer the little girl I had left when I had followed oi Neamha to the south, to Yns-Mon and Ictis. I had to remember that.
Galligos moc Nammeios rode into Attuaca a few months after the sabotage of the granary, with two pretty young women riding behind him.
https://i272.photobucket.com/albums/...dotos/ISpy.jpg
He reined up his horse outside the tavern and went inside. I laid my tools aside and entered behind him, wondering what could bring Tancogeistla’s spy to the environs of the capital.
“Cadwalador!” he exclaimed, slapping me on the back. “It’s been too long. Another ale, if you please!” he shouted at the innkeeper.
I shook my head. “I don’t drink.” The example of Tancogeistla had been enough for me.
Galligos shrugged. “So, what brings you to Attuaca?” I asked, when we had sat down in one corner of the tavern. His women didn’t sit with us. Instead they circulated around the room, singing with the other visitors to the tavern and laughing at bawdy jokes. At length one disappeared. Clearly about her master’s business.
“Business, Cadwalador. As usual.” His black eyes narrowed, fire glinting within them like dark coals. “I heard about the granary.”
“Ah, yes. An unfortunate business.”
“You haven’t caught the miscreant.” His words were more of a statement than a question. I shook my head in the negative.
“Nor are you likely to.” His words spoke the obvious truth, but the certainty with which he uttered them was sufficient to put me upon my guard. There was something behind the statement.
“Where have you been all this time?” I asked, endeavoring to change the subject. I could come back to the topic later, when he would not be expecting it.
“Camulosadae,” he replied coolly. “In the court of Barae, gathering information of his operations against the Aeduan state. They are preparing to march against us, Cadwalador.”
“Then why did you not go to Aneirin moc Cunobelin upon the moment of your arrival? He needs all the help he can obtain at this time.”
“Barae is known for his spies, Cadwalador. I learned much about him during the months I spent in his court.” A smile flickered across the spy’s face. “One of those young women you saw ride in with me—she shared his bed for three months, until he tired of her.”
https://i272.photobucket.com/albums/...otos/Barae.jpg
“He is a formidable enemy. And his weapons are not those of the field of battle. Not when he can avoid it. Rather he prefers to move in the darkness, striking unexpectedly and without warning.”
“What does all this have to do with your reluctance to report to your master?” I asked sharply, annoyed by his manner. I had the sense that he was toying with me.
“Everything, Cadwalador. Barae has a spy in the very household of Aneirin moc Cunobelin.”
His words struck me like a blow to the face and I could do nothing but sit there, gazing into his eyes. “How can you be sure?”
“An unimpeachable source,” he replied, seeming almost amused. “The High King himself, Barae.”
“He told you this?”
Galligos shook his head. “Not me. The whore. And she relayed his words to me, as she was bidden. He was given to bragging with his women. Of his conquests, to his conquests.” He chuckled as though he had just made a particularly funny joke.
There was nothing funny in the whole situation—not to me. “Why do you tell me this?” I asked, glancing sharply at his face.
“Who is better placed to find out the identity of the spy than you, Cadwalador? Trusted retainer of Tancogeistla. Friend and companion of Aneirin moc Cunobelin. You can move unquestioned in the palace.”
I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”
I glanced across the tavern to where one of the young women sat on the lap of an Aeduan warrior, laughing merrily as he whispered something in her ear.
“Why don’t you use her?”
“You seem to have forgotten the king’s fear of strangers,” Galligos reminded me grimly. “He would be reluctant to accept a new maid. And with his legendary devotion to his young wife, her beauty would not be of aid to us.” He looked pensive. “A faithful man, Cadwalador, is one of the greatest obstacles to my work that I know. Fortunately for my profession, it is a quality few men possess. A few men like yourself.”
He rose from his seat, tossing a coin upon the table to pay for his drink. “Let me know what you can discover,” he stated unequivocally, looking down at me. And then he was gone.
I sat there for hours, seeming frozen in my place, his words running over and over through my mind as I thought through my friends within the palace, considering and rejecting them all in turn. The idea of spying upon them was repulsive to me, yet Galligos’ words held the ring of truth. And if he were right. . .
I went to the palace.

Months passed and Ogrosan approached. I had discovered nothing. The spy had left Attuaca without ever speaking to Aneirin. To my knowledge, I was the only one who even knew he had visited. The only one who had seen him and known his identity.
His words tormented me, rolling through my tortured brain in the darkness of night. Who was the spy? Who was the spy? Who was the spy. . .
Fate plays perverse tricks upon the lives of men. For it was not by stealth and by guile that I finally received the answer to my question. Nay, rather, it was by the mistake of a child.
I went to the palace late one night to retrieve Faran. She was late and with Galligos’ warning ever in the back of my mind, I was worried about her.
Faran was in the gardens behind the palace, chasing a small hare that belonged to one of Aneirin’s sons. She greeted me dirty and tired, with a huge smile on her face. Yes, there was still an element of the child within her.
“You have worried me, my darling,” I whispered, clasping her to me in the darkness. She looked more like her mother with every passing year. She returned my embrace uneasily, as though sensing the tension in my body.
“I had to find the rabbit,” she replied boldly, showing me the furry little animal. “He got lost.”
I smiled. “Let’s go home.”
It was then I heard voices from within the gardens, voices from out of the night. I pulled away from Faran and bade her go on. “Return the animal and go home,” I whispered.
A sixth sense seemed to warn me, as though this was what I had looked for, had sought for so many months.
I moved stealthily through the hedges and trees that Aneirin had ordered planted for his wife’s enjoyment. Margeria was scarce twenty years old, but I rarely saw her in the palace. She seemed to keep to herself.
Soon I was close enough to distinguish the voices. A man’s voice, hoarse and deep, and a woman’s, softer and harder to understand. For a moment I thought I had merely chanced upon a tryst between the servants, but the same impulse that had separated me from Faran drove me onward, to discover the truth of the matter.
There was something familiar—as though I had heard the woman’s voice before, long ago.
Moving from my position behind the hedges, I descried the couple, the man standing with his form silhouetted against the bright moonlight, the woman with her back turned upon me. Her next words were clear, distinct.
“. . .do not stop until you hasten unto Ivernis. Tell Praesutagos that the Casse look kindly upon his overtures to them.”
My heart nearly stopped beating. The woman, the unknown woman before me, she was the spy I had sought in the long months since Galligos’ strange visit.
“How do you know this?” the man asked gruffly.
“A emissary from Barae, he came to me last night,” she replied. “Bearing a message from the High King.”
“It is enough,” the stranger assented at last, seeming satisfied by her reply. He reached forth his hand and took the packet from her hand. “I will deliver this to Praesutagos.”
I parted the bushes with one hand, drawing my dagger from my belt. He looked up to me, startled and took to his heels. I caught only a fleeting glimpse of his face as he turned, a hawk-like face dark as the night.
And then he was gone. I turned, grasping the woman firmly by the wrist, to prevent her escape.
“Cadwalador,” she stated coolly.
I looked down into the face of Margeria, the wife of Aneirin moc Cunobelin. The dagger nearly dropped from my grasp in my astonishment. Never, in all my dreams, had I suspected. . .
“You?” I asked. Her dark eyes stared back at me, full of defiance. She pulled her hand away from my grasp.
“Forget what you saw and heard tonight, Cadwalador. Forget all of it,” she whispered, intensity in her voice. “You were never here. I was inside the palace. None of it ever happened.”
“You have been spying for Praesutagos—for the Casse!” I hissed, spitting out their name as though it were a curse. “How can I forget that?”
“Easily, Cadwalador,” Margeria whispered, looking up into my face. “As many another man in your position has.”
Her hand traced its way up my arm to the shoulder, her eyes locking with mine with a seductive boldness. “Come with lie with me, Cadwalador. Here in the gardens.”
Her robes fell open in the front, exposing white flesh glistening the moonlight. She drew me down unto her until her lips were only inches from my own. “Lie with me, Cadwalador,” she whispered. “Lie with me and forget. . .”

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Theodotos I

Her hand traced its way up my arm to the shoulder, her eyes locking with mine with a seductive boldness. “Come with lie with me, Cadwalador. Here in the gardens.”
Her robes fell open in the front, exposing white flesh glistening the moonlight. She drew me down unto her until her lips were only inches from my own. “Lie with me, Cadwalador,” she whispered. “Lie with me and forget. . .”

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whoa........ :wink3:
great chapter!

Wait and see what happens. . .

Well, Margeria was the first person I suspected, so I'm guessing that it's not actually her. Or something. Whatever it is, it's too easy.

Sheesh...any more plot turns on this road of a story I am going to need new tires. Great Job!

HaHa, as soon as Galligos talked about how faithful Aneirin, I reverted back to the title and knew that his faith would need to be tested so Margeria was the first to pop in my mind. And where are Cadwalador's trusty javelins, the messenger would have been deadmeat.

................That damn tramp!!!!!!!!

Hmm. . .Guess I made Margeria a little bit too obvious. A lot's been going on in real life lately and I guess the execution of this plot point was a little on the sloppy side. However, this is far from over, and will be anything but easy. Guess what?

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Her treachery is not the true plot twist here. That comes--next update. . .

Okay, I'll probably be updating tomorrow or Friday if time permits. Two surprises coming up, bigger ones than Margeria's duplicity. For now, another one of my little contests. I will give three balloons :balloon2::balloon2: :balloon2: to the person who can tell me where I got the eulogy for Tancogeistla. Oh yes, it wasn't entirely my own, and no I did not copy it from anyone here on the forums. It's not plagiarism, just reworking of some ancient writings. Good luck!

From the Torah, I believe; specifically, Samuel.

And the Margeria twist wasn't bad; it's just that I'm used to looking for subtle clues in your AAR now.

Sorry for the late respons. I've been working or simply without internet for some time.
I haven't got time to read everything right now, just letting you know I'm still here.

@Reverend Joe: Three balloons to you sir! :balloon2::balloon2::balloon2: As a bit of Bible student myself, it was the first thing that came to mind when I needed a eulogy, and I enjoyed altering it to fit the story very much. Anyhow, good detective work. I wasn't quite as subtle as needed with Margeria, but I'm not writing a mystery here, and the game itself is forcing my hand. :furious3: More to come on that. . .
@Cadwalader: Yeah, thanks a lot for your sword idea. It was very helpful. Glad to hear from you.

Chapter XLII: “We Are All Traitors. . .”

I looked down into her face, disgust rising within me at the emptiness of her invitation, at the perfidy I saw in those dark eyes. Treachery lurked within their depths.
“How long?” I whispered, glaring into her face. “How long have you been a spy for the enemies of my master?”
Her chin tilted upward, the look of defiance returning to her face. “Your master was Tancogeistla, and you aided Aneirin in slaying him at Ictis.”
I recoiled from her, my mind reeling in horror at her accusation. “What do you mean?”
“You left him to be slain, you and Aneirin. It was all part of the plan, wasn’t it?”
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. “It was a tragedy. Our men were unable to reach him in time.”
“A tragedy, Cadwalador? Then why did my husband poison him, slowly but surely, robbing him of his strength before he faced the battle? No, Cadwalador,” she replied, laying a soft hand on my arm, “it was no mistake. Aneirin wished for the death of oi Neamha—more than for anything else in the world. And you helped him achieve that goal. So you see, we are all traitors here—you, I, Aneirin. We have all betrayed something within ourselves, to possess that which we desire. Just as you desire me this night.”
I pulled away from her touch as though from a hot brand. “You are lying,” I retorted, certain of her object.
She smiled briefly, her eyes never leaving my own. “You say that with confidence, Cadwalador, but your voice bewrayeth you. It is a confidence you do not feel. In your heart you know that what I speak is very truth. A truth you refuse to see. Come and lie here beside me. Take that which you desire.”
I looked across at her, into the emptiness of those dark eyes. Diedre had been the only woman I had ever known, and she had given herself to me with all the love a wife should feel for her husband. And I had given her my love in return, as any husband. But there was nothing here—only the fragile shell of an alluring and treacherous young woman, a woman who would betray me as surely as she had already betrayed her own husband.
“How many men, Margeria? How many men have shared your bed? How many times,” I demanded, my voice rising, “have you betrayed your husband?”
Her pretty face twisted into a sneer, an ugly caricature of its former self as she laughed in my face. “And for what would you know? That you might tell Aneirin? I will tell you this. I have born two sons unto Aneirin moc Cunobelin. One of them is not his.”
My mouth dropped open. Nothing had prepared me for the words she had just uttered. She laughed at my astonishment. “One day, Cadwalador. Oh, yes. One day a bastard will sit upon the throne of the Aedui.”
I stared at her, hearing the ring of truth in her words. In this, indeed, in this she was not deceiving me. “So, come in unto me, Cadwalador,” she replied, a mocking smile dancing on those ruby lips. “And perchance your son will reign some day.”
I turned away from her, my contempt too great for words. And as I did, my foot hit something there in the garden. I stooped, picking up a small leathern packet. The same one which I had witnessed Margeria hand to the messenger.
The realization flashed through me like a fire. Surprised by my sudden intrusion, he had dropped the packet in his flight. The message—it was the only thing which I knew of that could convince Aneirin of his wife’s betrayal. I had to get it to him, quickly.
Margeria came up behind me, her soft hands on my shoulders. “Stay with me, I beseech you. You will never regret it.” She paused suggestively. “How long has it been, Cadwalador, how long since—” Her voice broke off suddenly as she saw the packet in my hand.
“Where did you find that?” She demanded, her voice a low hiss. I looked into her eyes, saw the traitoress unmasked. All her beauty, every last shred of seduction gone in an instant as she gazed upon the packet, her eyes blazing with fire.
“You know what it contains, Margeria?” I asked, taunting her as I tucked it within my cloak. “As do I. And as will Aneirin in a few moments.”
Without warning, she threw herself upon me, catching me off-balance. I went down to the earth with her on top of me, her fingers clawing for the packet. I grabbed for her wrists, pinning them against my chest. She bit down upon my hand, her teeth raking the knuckles.
Her hand moved down to my waist and within a twinkling, my dagger was in her grasp, the blade glistening in the moonlight as it descended toward my throat.
The dagger sliced across my forearm, thrown up to protect my face. The pain seemed to awaken me to my peril and I responded with a blow such I had never dealt to a woman before. She reeled backward, falling upon her back on the earth. But in her hand I glimpsed the packet.
I rolled to my knees, clutching my wrist to staunch the flow of blood. Determination was written boldly upon her countenance and I reached out as she lifted herself upon her hands, raising up to toss the packet into the hedges.
She was out of my reach and I lunged for, slamming into her as the packet went flying, sailing through the night air, into oblivion. My time was short. I knew I would never find it again.
My dagger was still clutched tightly in Margeria’s fist and I grappled with her for a moment, sensing the ferocity coursing through her young body. Her robes tore in my grasp and she rolled away, leaving the strips of fabric in my hands.
The look of the devil was in her eye as she threw back her head, her voice uplifted for the first time that dark night, a wild, quavering scream piercing the air. A cry for help.
I confess for a moment I sat there, blood still trickling down my forearm, utterly confused by her sudden change of attitude. She huddled in a tight ball, sobs shaking her slender frame as she screamed, again and again. It was then I glimpsed her torn robes and it all fell in place. Her scheme, her plan to cloak her betrayal.
I rose to my feet, adrenalin flowing swiftly through my veins. My pain was forgotten as I ran, my feet drumming a loud tattoo against the hard-packed earth. I knew one thing and one thing only. I must flee. Without the packet, without the proof of her treachery, my story would never be believed. Flight was my only recourse.
At the edge of the garden, I met a young Brihentin, his sword drawn. “What is going on?” he demanded harshly, moving to block my path.
“I was coming to get you,” I whispered, my voice filled with intensity.
“Cadwalador!” He exclaimed, lowering his weapon with a smile of relief. “What is it?”
“Margeria. You must go to her. A sickness, something, has come upon her. Help her into the palace. And put up that sword!”
“Of course.”
I watched him go, my mind harking back to the days of my own youth. Before I had known the darkness of our present world. Before my innocence had been ripped away by the perfidy of man. And woman. . .

More intrigue, next update. . .

what is our hero to do?

patiently awaiting the next update....:juggle2:

one word-
WOW!!!!!!

Dyamn.

Phew! Finally I got time to read everything, and I wasn't disappointed one bit,
it will be exciting to see what you have planned next.
I'm also very glad that you used my idea with the sword. :nice:

@Tristem: Good to see you, sir. Always glad to hear a lurker speak up. Will try to read your story when I get a moment. Right now I'm rather on the busy side and do not have another update ready yet. Probably by Monday. I figured better to take my time on it and do the job right rather than rush it out. Hope everyone doesn't mind the wait.
@Hooahguy: Thanks.
@Reverend Joe: Little more excitement, eh?
@Cadwalader: Glad to know you're caught up. Your sword suggestion was much appreciated. I had planned the flogging all along, but I wanted something else to cap it off. I hope you liked how I implemented the suggestion.
Keep commenting, everyone!

I'm back from Florida and I finally caught up on this AAR. This is my reaction..... :jawdrop:

my aar died when mtw stopped working on my laptop (graphics card issues), i've been thinking of an EB one in the future, but i'm always so busy and i don't want it to be work. So maybe in the future.....

besides, i always thought that the EB aars are the most read, therefore i'd know that people are enjoying my writing. But the old one is worth checking out, nothing special, just some old mtw.

@Defiant: :laugh4::laugh4: How much did you have to get caught up on?
@Tristem: I read it. Very interesting, but a shame it died. I look forward to reading something of your creation here. EB is one of the best mods for AARs, IMHO. Good luck!

Chapter XLIII: Flight

Despite my successful deception of the young noble, my time was limited. I knew that. I went quickly unto the palace stables to secure my horse, the strong gray steed that had carried me through countless battles, that had saved my life more times than I could count.
Saddling him, I rode through the night to my house, near the palisade of Attuaca. Returning held its dangers, this I knew. But deserting Faran was more than I could bring myself to do. She was not of my blood, rather the daughter of a strange man, a warrior whom I had slain in battle with my own hands. But she was the blood of Diedre, and that bound me to her with bonds far tighter than words can describe.
I reined up at the door of my small dwelling, the roof of which had sheltered the dreams Diedre and I had once shared. All that was gone now, ripped away from me with the force of a mountain storm.
The house was dark. Probably Faran had let the fire die as she went to bed. I walked quickly to the door, extending my hand to the latch-string.
Figures rushed from the darkness, they were upon me before I could raise my weapon to defend myself. Something heavy crashed into the back of my head and I collapsed forward, slumping down on the step. Stars flashed, a galaxy exploding within my brain. Then everything faded away. . .

I awoke spluttering, spitting out the water which had just been splashed in my face. Torches burned brightly above me, their guttering flame casting strange shadows across my body. The back of my head throbbed with pain, and it took me a few moments to remember my situation. Then it all came back. Margeria, the messenger, the packet, the fight in the garden. But where was I?
Aneirin stepped from behind one of the torch-bearers, gazing down upon my supine form. I started to rise and then realized hands were holding me down, pinning me to the ground.
“Why, Cadwalador?” Aneirin asked softly, his voice full of sadness. “Why did you do this thing?” His voice rose as he continued, trembling with emotion. “Why, when I have given you everything, rank and station, a place in my court? Was it not enough for you? Had I known you were in need of a companion, I could have commanded a score of Aeduan maids for you to choose from. There was no need that it should ever come to this.”
I remained silent, aware that nothing I could say would alter my fate. Any attempt to warn him of Margeria’s treachery would only further incense him. He went on.
“Yet you attempted to force my wife, in my very palace! Had she not succeeded in defending herself with your dagger, you would assuredly had your way with her.”
I gazed up at him, unblinking. “Your wife tells me that you poisoned Tancogeistla. Is this true, my lord?”
Aneirin looked stricken. He shook his head slowly. “No. Why would she have told you this?”
“He is lying to you,” Margeria said softly, her voice tremulous. She came to the side of her husband, burying her face in his chest upon seeing me.
“I—I never—want to see him again,” she whispered, her body shaking with sobs. He placed his arm around her, staring down into my face, sorrow mixed with contempt.
“I never dreamed you would betray me, Cadwalador. Never dreamed after all your years with my father, the steadfastness of your loyalty to his banner—that it would come to this. I could have you executed for what you have tried to do this night.”
Once again, I kept my silence. The only words I could have spoken in my defense had been washed away by Margeria’s tears. My fate was sealed. My mind flickered back over the life which had led to this point. My boyhood in northern Gaul, the wars with the Arverni. The beginning of our migration, our flight across the waters. The disaster before the oppida of Ictis. Cavarillos and his designs upon our drunken leader. Upon Tancogeistla.
Had I not stood in his way on that dark night, Inyae would have been spared and Tancogeistla would have died, helpless in a frozen pool of his own blood. How my life would have been different.
I that night, as every man at some point in his life, had come to a dividing of the ways. And I had chosen my way based not upon expediency, but upon loyalty. And it had led me here, to this place with oi Neamha’s heir looking sorrowfully down upon me, pronouncing the words that would lead to my death. A bitter irony—that loyalty had led to the perception of treachery, that allegiance could be construed as betrayal.
“And if you were any other man, Cadwalador, that is the death you would surely die. Yet, with you, I cannot. You spent your youth in the service of my father, oi Neamha. In your age, you have been the most trusted of my advisors. As much as your deeds of this night anger me, I cannot bring myself to order your death.”
Margeria lifted her face from Aneirin’s breast, whispering something to him. Asking him to kill me, I had no doubt. Whatever it was, he shook his head and bade her leave. He watched her go, her body still wracked with sobs, then turned his attention back to me.
“Let him up,” he ordered brusquely. The hands left my arms and freed from their restraint, I slowly rose to my feet, facing Aneirin moc Cunobelin in the torchlight. My head held high, I stared defiantly into his eyes. I had done nothing wrong, there were no regrets.
“Yet I cannot let this night pass without notice. I am forced to order your imprisonment.”
I opened my lips to say something, but thought better of it. He turned unto my guards, uttering words that would ring in my memory for the rest of my days. “Take him away. . .”

Things are really building up now. Exciting!
And by the way, I'm sorry I forgot to mention this before, but it should be "oppidum". Oppida is plural.

Awesome chapter. Eagerly awaiting the next :2thumbsup:

it's took me a while to get here but I am finally up-to-date, excellent aar, your story telling ability is excellent and you really should look at writing novels or short-stories professionally

that is all...

Wow man you keep the good stuff coming...I wondered why he wasn't killed on the spot? Will some one save our hero from his chains of imprisonment?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Chirurgeon

Wow man you keep the good stuff coming...I wondered why he wasn't killed on the spot? Will some one save our hero from his chains of imprisonment?

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David Hasselhoff :2thumbsup:

@Cadwalader: Thanks for pointing that out. But I looked it up in the dictionary and found out that it is actually Latin. Wonder why the EB team used it? They normally try to put everything in the original language of the owner/builder.
@Defiant: Thank you. I need to play more of the game before I can post up any more updates, see where things are headed. . .
@Roka: Welcome, welcome. You had quite a bit to read. This AAR is taking up about 110 pages in MS Word, so it's rather large. Yes, I am definitely thinking of writing as a profession, which is part of the reason for this story.
@Chirurgeon: Just think of what prisoners were often used for in those days and you'll have a glimpse of where this story is headed. And no, I'm not thinking sacrifice. . .
Thanks everyone for reading! This isn't over yet.

Chapter XLIV: Sucellyn

The price of loyalty. It was this that haunted me through the long months. I had remained true to first the standard of Tancogeistla, then that of Aneirin moc Cunobelin. I had sacrificed much for the Aedui, for these men who had desired the kingdom for themselves. Treachery was the way of the world. And a man like Aneirin had been trained to see it everywhere. Yet he was blind to the serpent which he cherished to his bosom, the betrayal of the woman he loved. Folly, yea folly threefold. . .

Three years passed. From the darkness of my cell, I knew little of what transpired in that time. The war against the Casse began to gradually worsen, helped undoubtedly by Margeria’s information. I heard from another prisoner that Motios had died in the fighting. The news brought me sadness, somehow. The old druid’s honesty had been something I cherished unto myself through the long years. A man without guile.
Ogrosan of the third year found me still imprisoned. The long months had worn away my garments till they were little more than scant rags. I woke one morning shaking uncontrollably, the cold wind whipping through the cracks of the fragile prison. I stood, the manacles dragging upon my weakened arms, rubbing myself with all the vigor I could muster. I was more than cold, I was sick. And nothing could help.
Two days thereafter, I awoke to the sound of my cell door being thrown open. “Up with you and out!” the guard ordered gruffly. I thought I detected a glint of sympathy in his eye, despite his tones. Perhaps he remembered the days of my service, when I had been the confidant of Aneirin moc Cunobelin. How the mighty have fallen. . .
I emerged into the bright sun for the first time in months, blinking like an owl caught in the light of day. Other prisoners were gathered around me, kept under guard at spearpoint. Most of them were thieves or other malcontents. Early in my imprisonment, there had been many of the Casse with us, but none within the last two years. I wondered at the significance of this. Perhaps nothing. And perhaps everything.
We stood there in a long formation, shivering in the chill morning air. A noble rode up, wearing the insignia of Aneirin’s court. “Listen, ye rabble!” he called out, looking proud and strong upon his warhorse. As once I had been.
“The Vergobret has assigned I, Eporedoros moc Estes, to build a port upon the northern coastline. First, however, we must clear an area of brush and trees. You,” he stated, smiling upon us with the gleam of a conqueror, “will accomplish this work.”
https://i272.photobucket.com/albums/...alClearing.jpg

It was a three-day march to the place, and we were under escort the whole way, guarded constantly by warbands of the Calydrae, now under the banner of Aneirin moc Cunobelin. I found it ironic that these were now the only warriors whose loyalty Aneirin could trust, these whom his father had labored so hard to destroy. The tribes of Erain were firmly in the hands of his enemies. He could count upon no aid from that quarter.
The march was hard, but it felt good to be out in the open air again. Arriving upon the coastline, each man was handed a rude axe. The ground where we were intended to work was covered with thick brush and we immediately fell to work clearing it. I had once been a strong man, but the years of enforced inactivity had taken its toll upon my strength and I now found myself exhausted by a few mere swings of the axe. My hands were bleeding and covered with blisters by the end of the first day.
Berdic was in the camp, in command of a contingent of the Balroae. He refused to look upon me as we passed each morning. Apparently he believed the lie of my betrayal. Ah, friends. . .

Margeria’s face rose up before me each night as I lay on my threadbare cloak upon the cold ground, mocking me with the impotence of my actions. I had failed to unmask her deceit and was now suffering the penalty for failure. If only there was something. Yet nothing could be done upon this desolate cape, so many miles from the palace at Attuaca. Or so I thought.

A month after our arrival upon the cape, a man came riding into camp. His horse trotted directly past the point where I stood, wearily swinging my axe a few last strokes before the close of day. I glanced up at his approach, and in that brief second of time I glimpsed the same aquiline nose, the hawk-like features.
I looked away quickly, fearing his own recognition. For brief as it was, I knew. It was the same messenger that had come unto Margeria on that fateful night. There was no mistaking the face that had been seared upon my memory. But what was he doing in this camp. I turned as he rode past, going boldly to the tent of the Eporedoros moc Estes. After a brief exchange with the Balroae posted at the entrance, he was admitted. As a friend.
I dropped my axe and hurried away from my work, unsure of what I had just seen. Berdic was a few steps in front of me and I ran to him.
“Berdic!” I cried breathlessly. “Who is that man?”
Berdic kept walking, ignoring my words. Frustrated, I laid my hands upon his shoulders, gripping them fiercely. He turned, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. “Let go of me,” he hissed between his teeth. “I could slay you for that.”
“Berdic,” I whispered, my hands falling to my sides, “just tell me. Who is the man who just rode in?”
He looked at me for a moment, as though wondering at the impertinence of my question. Then, as though he could see no harm in the matter, he answered, “His name is Sucellyn moc Eporedoros. He is the cousin of our leader.”
I recoiled as though struck in the face, my mind swirling with a thousand thoughts, a thousand images. Could I have been mistaken? There was no doubt. “Berdic, that man is a spy for the Casse!”
Berdic looked upon me for a moment, then turned away as though disgusted by the audacity of my statement. “Of course,” he replied dismissively.
I reached forward, seizing his cloak in my hands, turning him back to me, heedless of the danger. “Please, Berdic, listen to me! For the sake of our friendship, listen to me!”
His eyes locked with mine, scorn radiating from their ice-blue depths. “I have no friendship with traitors. What proof do you have of this man’s treachery?”
“He was in the garden that night,” I whispered desperately. “With Margeria. She was giving him a packet to take to Praesutagos from the Casse.”
He stopped, turning once again to look upon my face. “And you would spare yourself by your denunciation of another?”
“Berdic, if I am lying unto you, slay me! But investigate Sucellyn’s doings. There is a plot afoot here!”
He looked toward the tent, a look of indecision on his face. I knew the moment had come. I had to push him over that ledge in his imaginations. “Berdic,” I cried hoarsely, “if I have deceived you, let not only my life be forfeit, but that of my daughter. But search out the truth!”
“Faran?” he asked. When I nodded, he continued, “She is dead already. Dead of the fever two years ago.”
My world was swirling around me. I sunk down upon the snowy ground, no strength left in my legs. Tears coursed their icy way down my dirt-encrusted face. Faran dead. My last link to Diedre severed. In my heart I cursed all those months spent away from her. Diedre’s death had taught me nothing. I had allowed the kingdom to come between my family and I, Aneirin moc Cunobelin and his court. And in the end, all that had faded away, leaving me holding only the ashes of the past. Of what might have been.
I looked up at Berdic through tear-filled eyes. “Please, Berdic,” I whispered, praying that he would not continue to be deaf to my entreaties. “Search out the truth.”
He reached down and took me by the shoulder, helping me to stand to my feet. “I will take you to the tent of Eporedoros moc Estes. There you can make your accusation. It would not surprise me if he slays you where you stand. But you were once my friend, and I can no longer refuse your wish.”

Anybody?:inquisitive: Always remember, I prefer negative comments over silence, so don't be afraid to speak up if you don't like something. Of course, I've got to realize I'm also competing with the world's greatest athletic competition this week, so I will hold my next chapter till tomorrow.

Agh, what dissapointment. When I saw that you posted here todey, I thought it was another update of this awsomnes. Then I open the thread and there is no update. Dam!!! Hope We'll see ahother chapter soon.

:yougotmail:

can't wait for the next chapter.

u said u were going to compete in the world's greatest athletic competition. Are u competing in the Olympics? if u r, I will give you this balloon: :balloon:

if not, I will give you this balloon simply because I like your AAR :balloon3:

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Originally Posted by Legosoldier

:yougotmail:

can't wait for the next chapter.

u said u were going to compete in the world's greatest athletic competition. Are u competing in the Olympics? if u r, I will give you this balloon: :balloon:

if not, I will give you this balloon simply because I like your AAR :balloon3:

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Oops, wrong impression there. I merely meant to convey that perhaps my readers were watching the Olympics instead of browsing the forums. I see now that I was wrong. Thanks for the balloon! Posting up shortly.

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Well, I'm not sure of what to comment on... things are just going well. Very interesting twists and turns.

Very nice update my friend. I wondered how he was going to get out of that situation. I wonder if they negotiate with hostage takers? Anyway keep up the good work and will be waiting for what happens next :)

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It's not over, is it?

I really hope not.

I'm still following this AAR and loving it.

I agree...It has been great following this AAR

i hope this isn't the end :thumbsdown:

My goodness, no. When this ends, you will know it. Because I will tell you in big bold letters, The End. Until then. . .

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Nope, ain't the end. More, coming up. . .

BTW, this AAR is entered in the Total War Center RTW AAR of the Month Contest. Voting begins on the 31st, so please support EB in this contest.
The link is here http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showthread.php?t=182706

Simply amazing. Your storytelling gets better and better. After all this time I am anxious to see the fate of our hero. Your lines and descriptions leave me shaking my head. I cannot say enough about this tale of yours. I wonder how many pages in Microsoft Word you have taken up?

I really want that wus and traitor of a leader to die, I guess our hero's old habits die hard....

@Chirurgeon: Coming from one of the legends of EB writing, your praise humbles me. This is up to about 120 pages in MS Word, over a quarter the size of the last full manuscript I completed. His final showdown with Cavarillos is yet to come. . .
@Tristrem: A time for everything. Writing the last few chapters I've been listening to "Mordred's Lullaby", with its chanting drumbeat of "loyalty, loyalty". Pretty well sums up Cadwalador. Keep reading.

EDIT: Oh, Chirurgeon. Concerning that contest, I noticed PowerWizard had nominated your old Kart-hadast AAR. Aside from the fact that I'm suddenly quaking in my boots, I wondered how that fit into the rule of two updates in the current month. Did you add something recently? Just curious.

Apparently he nominated me and he knows the rules. I asked him and he says as long as its never been featured in a AAR of the month competition you can nominate it one time. Even if its a dead AAR. That raises a good question because if you look through the vast volumes of this AAR forum, there are some amazing ones that have been relegated to the sands of time. Should some of those be nominated for future competitions? Only thing is that you would have to have the author submit it and get permission. Its a bummer because there are people that made those AARs that are not on the forums anymore.

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Originally Posted by Chirurgeon

Apparently he nominated me and he knows the rules. I asked him and he says as long as its never been featured in a AAR of the month competition you can nominate it one time. Even if its a dead AAR. That raises a good question because if you look through the vast volumes of this AAR forum, there are some amazing ones that have been relegated to the sands of time. Should some of those be nominated for future competitions? Only thing is that you would have to have the author submit it and get permission. Its a bummer because there are people that made those AARs that are not on the forums anymore.

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Yeah, well I'm glad you're entered one way or the other. EB has some excellent representation in the contest. May the best man win! :2thumbsup:

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By the way, I am currently involved trying to recruit for a mod over on TWC. If any of you have modeling or skinning abilities and would like to help, please PM me for details. This is not the appropriate forum for discussion. Thanks.

I've now caught up with this, didn't have much interest in an Aedui-AAR before, but you have proven me wrong. I'm very impressed and i think you hold the all-time record for setbacks and disaster in a single AAR :yes:
Oh, and of course for possible last chapters :laugh4: (although this is none of them)

once again epic update, keep it up

@Lysimachos: Good to know you're reading. Yes, I think I'm tied with BerkeleyBoi on that score, if you remember his Sabyn AAR. Part of these tragedies have been purposeful, because I feel that they are more interesting to read about. However, they've proceeded to the point where I no longer control them. . .
@Roka: Thanks, man. Keep reading.

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Originally Posted by Theodotos I

@Roka: Thanks, man. Keep reading.

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no need to worry about that, you keep writing and i'll certainly keep reading :2thumbsup:

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If anyone reading this AAR is a member over on TWC, please be advised, the vote is on! This story is competing for AAR of the Month and the link is here http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showthread.php?t=189338
If you like my writing, please vote!

Wow great update. So on to Ireland huh? This should be interesting indeed.

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Originally Posted by Chirurgeon

Wow great update. So on to Ireland huh? This should be interesting indeed.

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Interesting Indeed... ...Once you face the monster armoured Dubosaverlacica. If I was playing one of the Gallic factions or the Casse, Ireland would be the first place I conquer, just so I could get some of those tanks. I wish I could recruit them as the Romani [sniffle] [sniffle]. Is it historical for a unit to have so much armour?

Anyway, splendid update, I like your roleplaying style of writing very much. Reminds me of Chirurgeon's AARs. I'll definitely vote for you, just gotta create a TWC account!

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Originally Posted by Aemilius Paulus

I'll definitely vote for you, just gotta create a TWC account!

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It's not that easy: you need a number of posts before you are allowed to vote on polls over there. I can't do it yet. :no:

Edit: Oh, Theodotos, I read what you wrote in the "lost cause"-themed-aar-nomination-thread about perhaps being finished until the deadline. You know, we can't accept that, don't you? :whip:

How many posts do you need to vote then?

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Originally Posted by Aemilius Paulus

How many posts do you need to vote then?

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50 posts and registered at least a week.

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Originally Posted by Chirurgeon

Wow great update. So on to Ireland huh? This should be interesting indeed.

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Well, if you remember, I already control Ireland. However, I am roleplaying that the disloyalty of Malac's eldest and his brother-in-law has created an atmosphere hostile to Aneirin and Cadwalador. Therefore they are quite friendless--or are they? :inquisitive:
@Lysimachos and Aemilius Paullus: I appreciate all your help in trying to vote for my story. I hope you will be able to accomplish it. :beam:

EDIT: All good things must come to an end, Lysimachos. And this AAR is no exception. But not quite yet. . .

... hopefully not too soon.

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Originally Posted by Lysimachos

50 posts and registered at least a week.

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:wall::wall::wall:

When does the AAR competition end? I mean, 50 posts is no joke, it would take some time. Then, again, I could just spam the
EB Bug Reports & Technical Help forum in TWC with questions about the bugs that plague EB!

Just kidding! That would be a bad thing, since someone has or will try (hopefully) to answer all those questions. Maybe I should just choose another place or for spamming in TWC (such as instead of having many sentences in one post, divide the single post into numerous one-sentence posts:laugh4:)! What's the current record for spamming in the EB forums anyway?

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Originally Posted by Aemilius Paulus

:wall::wall::wall:

When does the AAR competition end? I mean, 50 posts is no joke, it would take some time. Then, again, I could just spam the
EB Bug Reports & Technical Help forum in TWC with questions about the bugs that plague EB!

Just kidding! That would be a bad thing, since someone has or will try (hopefully) to answer all those questions. Maybe I should just choose another place or for spamming in TWC (such as instead of having many sentences in one post, divide the single post into numerous one-sentence posts:laugh4:)! What's the current record for spamming in the EB forums anyway?

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Ends Monday, so there's no chance for you, even if you did spam, which I would strongly discourage. However, you can go to the voting thread and state who you would vote for, if you were permitted to vote. I don't think that's off-limits. So, that's what I would suggest if you want to support me. Thanks for all your effort.

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I would guess who it is, but it seems like you just mess with us every time we try to guess.

:laugh4::laugh4::laugh4: Good luck!

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Thought I had a picture of Erbin around here. If I find it, I'll add it.

Awesome chapter. Glad to see Cavarillos got what he deserved. However, a small part of me wishes the fight had been a little more epic. Somewhere along the lines of Anakin VS. Obi Wan or something... Either way, it's a good read.

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Originally Posted by fenix3279

Awesome chapter. Glad to see Cavarillos got what he deserved. However, a small part of me wishes the fight had been a little more epic. Somewhere along the lines of Anakin VS. Obi Wan or something... Either way, it's a good read.

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Well, perhaps it could have been better. Still, how many AARs even give you a one-on-one swordfight? Thanks for reading.

One-on-one swordfights are usually decided pretty quickly though. Slashing a longsword around for 10 minutes is very, very tiring.

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Originally Posted by Hax

One-on-one swordfights are usually decided pretty quickly though. Slashing a longsword around for 10 minutes is very, very tiring.

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That's why Anakin and Obi-Wan used lightsabers. Right?

Now with 25% less calories!

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Absolutely amazing AAR. Wonderful writing.

Keep up the great work!

Is this something like the last voyage? I have little hope they will succeed:no: