AD 73 Northern Roman Britain
Brennus of Garrigill—Bran—monitors Roman activity across Brigantia. Stability prevails till AD 78 when Agricola, Governor of Britannia, orders complete conquest of all barbarians. Brennus heads north, seeking the Caledon who will lead the northern tribes against Rome.
Ineda treks northwards with her master, Tribune Valerius – supplies officer for Agricola’s Britannia campaigns. At Pinnata Castra, she escapes and seeks fellow Brigantes congregating for battle in the north.
The Legions of the Roman Empire and the Caledon allies clash at Beinn na Ciche in AD 84, but where are Brennus and Ineda?
The adventures of the Garrigill Clan continue…
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Author Bio – Nancy Jardine writes historical fiction; time-travel historical adventure; contemporary mystery thrillers; and romantic comedy. She lives in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, where life is never quiet or boring since she regularly child minds her young grandchildren who happen to be her next-door neighbours. Her garden is often creatively managed by them, though she does all the work! Her husband is a fantastic purveyor of coffee and tea…excellent food and wine! (Restorative, of course)
Constable Josiah Ainscough has enrolled himself in the new Stockport Police force rather than face difficulty questions about his sexual conduct on his recent European travels. Unfortunately, though Josiah thinks local Police forces are a good thing he is not very adept at things like square bashing as this passage from the beginning of Children of Fire demonstrates.
Excerpt
A.D. 78 Northern Britannia – Garrigill Hillfort, Brigante Territory.
During the previous few years, Ancient Roman domination across Brigante territory has been largely confined to the southern tribal settlements. Brennus of Garrigill has been co-ordinating a spy network, relaying important Roman Legionary troop activity to the local warriors still intent on resisting full occupation of north Brigantia. Things, however, are about to change…
“What did they think to achieve?” Lorcan moved awkwardly around his dwelling, his agitation quite clear to Brennus.
Brennus had just returned from a journey that had been beset by high winds and driving rain, Lughnasadh having passed more than a moon ago, the season changing to fallen leaves earlier than usual. “What does one small tribe ever think to achieve when they attack the forces of Rome, my brother?” He was exhausted and hungry; not a good combination to tolerate any ranting by Lorcan.
“They destroyed an ala? The Ordovices had the gall to storm and destroy the fort housing a mounted regiment?” Lorcan’s sarcasm was not often seen these days. Anger? Aye! And censure a-plenty, but biting sarcasm was a thing of his past.
Brennus’ answer was cool, not rising to Lorcan’s taunts. “They have been successful, my brother: burned the defences, set the beasts free, and destroyed the innards of the fort. Why do you not rejoice for them?” He knew the reason perfectly well, but could see that Lorcan needed to vent some frustrated anger that had been simmering for some time.
“It bodes ill for all of us now! Agricola will not sit back. We can expect a relentless retaliation from all the legions he now commands, not just his old Legio XX.”
It was the truth. Agricola was indeed the new Governor of Britannia, having recently arrived in the far south. All who had knowledge of Agricola’s former methods knew he would not tarry in the Romanised Britannia of the southern coast, as his predecessor had done. The Ordovices had thwarted Agricola’s plans when he was at Viroconium Cornoviorum as Legate of the Legio XX. As Governor, he now had more might at his disposal to annihilate them
Some nights later, Brennus learned that Agricola had indeed marched north and had destroyed the Ordovices. His tone was bleak as he faced his brother and the elders of Garrigill, a gathering having been hastily summoned. “The little petty rebellions by the Ordovices are over for now, and maybe for ever. Agricola’s sword was brutal. Men, women and babies live no longer. Agricola has allowed few to carry on the tribe, few to foment another minor revolt.”
“Where will his sword fall next?” Lorcan sounded even more depressed by the latest news.
“My new informant in the area sent word that he has arrived at the new fort building at Deva. He will likely remain there over the winter months.”
“What of the tribes around there who have not had any dealing yet with the Roman butcher?” Lorcan looked well out of patience now.
“Scortin, and the settlements nearby, prepare now for imminent attack. Though, I very much doubt whether they would aid the Ordovices who made this ala assault. They all look to their own winter defences rather than make plans for battle elsewhere. When the warmer moons come, I fear the story may be no different.” He broke off from speaking on hearing the noise outside.
Nara bustled in with her young brood in tow, accompanied by his daughter Kaideigh.
“Athair! I have missed you, father!”
The little one launched herself onto his lap, though ‘little’ was not so appropriate really. She had inherited his height, maybe even his strength. A large child for not yet having passed three winters, she was even more fearless than she had been when a babe. He ruffled her braids around her cheeks, tickling her.
“And how fares my frightened little hen?”
“I fear no thing!”
“Oh aye, you do, my little chick.”
“No Romans. Nara says my arm is meaty!”
Tired as he was, his laughter roared around the roundhouse, the others joining in. Kaideigh had good speech, but sometimes not quite correct.
“You mean mighty!”
The mulish look on her little face brought forth more laughs. Her repetition of the word fell somewhere in between: clearly Kaideigh did not like being mocked.
Nara intervened. “Your father chides because he loves you and has missed you, little one.”
The wobble on the lower lip turned to a weak grin as he hugged her tight. He truly did love his little daughter.
A member of the Historical Novel Society; Scottish Association of Writers; Federation of Writers Scotland; Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Independent Alliance of Authors, her work has achieved finalist status in UK competitions.
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Hi! There's still a little bit of a confusion, I'm afraid. It's an interesting excerpt but it's not from my novel After Whorl: Donning Double Cloaks. The genre's a bit different ;-)
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