'It was not a time
for reason, it was a time of chaos and the gods of chaos reigned in bringing
death and fire, making the luxury of everyone's ordered world hang on such a
slender thread.
I am cold again
and will need wood to carry on with this tale. Wood for the fire of memories'
[][][][][]
Yulla waited and that was the hardest part, the sitting about and doing next to
nothing, it was soul destroying and made her feel completely powerless. Like a
lot of people she ended up living between unfounded gossip and news updates
from abroad. The news was usually vague, hidden and disguised, brought from
unknown spies and travellers. The spies and their messages, she had noticed
were getting fewer and fewer of late as the approaching army marched north
through Gaul towards Briton. Yulla was doing very little towards the war
effort, but her friend Boudica was very active, spending most of her time
practicing with her chariot. Instead of spending her time gossiping and chatting
to Yulla, Boudica would race her chariot over the flat grasslands and down the
long roads. She would drive her chariot to the limits of its capabilities,
turning it tightly, making it circle and stop and start suddenly.
She had adapted it
for war by attaching long knives to the centre of the wheels, they stuck out
and spun in a blur of silver, cutting through anything that got in their path. The
back of the chariot had been opened out so that it had no protection at the
back, but instead had a low back plate to allow archers and armoured warriors
to jump on and off, to engage and dis-engage in combat at will. Her horse,
Albion was dressed in light metal armour around his broad flanks, and his head
and feet. In the chariot she looked like a menacing thing of war that could
provide an instant threat to any approaching army; her set up was ideal for hit
and run. Boudica was part of a evolving section of the army to be of
charioteers, as were all her family. Each chariot, that had been unofficially
practicing, was dressed and decorated for war and had two archers on board as
well as the charioteer. The archers stood at the back, one facing left, one
facing right and when engaging in battle would strike with a volley of arrows,
delivered on and off board. When their arrows were spent they would be taken
away from danger without loss. The chariots did need the right terrain and
could not be used anywhere.
Alfos and Yulla watched Boudica's chariot and the five other chariots of her
family turn and weave in the big field behind the training ground. Dust rose up
in the air and the thunderous noise of the wheels was deafening. One of
Boudica's archers was a slender young man called Ao (pronounced 'Aye-Oh'), he
was considered by many to be the best shot in the land as his arrows always hit
the target. He was said to have the eye of an eagle, the wiry strength of any
muscle man and an unerring shot that enabled him to hit virtually anything. As
Boudica drove her chariot by the small crowd of onlookers at top speed, Ao
launched a single arrow. It spun high in the air, its blue and red feathers
rotating, as it arced high before splitting the heart of the far off target of
a hanging wicker man.
'I don't know what to do with them,' Alfos said looking down and scratvhing
dirt around with his feet.
'Let them play their part, they want to join in,' Yulla said.
'If only it was that simple. They need to fit in, a battle needs to be properly
orchestrated,'
'Surely you can work something out, we can’t not use them, that would be
madness,'
'My father is very worried about all of this, he doesn't even recognise them as
part of the army and in a way he’s right, they could be more of a liability
than an asset. The enemy could see them as a weak point and use them to win the
battle,' he said waving his hand dismissively at the racing chariots, through
the high clouds of dust and sand that were causing a storm in the air.
‘You’re worrying
about things that haven’t happened yet. Anyway why aren’t they recognised? Talk
to him, he'll understand. Times have changed, this is different,' she said, her
voice strained. She felt angry about all the old traditions that defied logic.
'Oh, I will, but I don't know if I'll get anywhere. There are rivers of men coming
out of the woodwork. The Druids want to join the fight, the outsiders from no-man’s
land keep telling me they are ready, even the old folk want some action. I have
more volunteers outside the army than inside it' Alfos said, laughing.
'Well that’s a nice problem to have. There are at least a hundred chariots you know,'
'Then there are the Hibernians, I will have to arrange them, when and if they
come,'
'Arrange?' She
said, raising her eyebrows and swirling some grass playfully heads though her
hands.
'Yes, of course,
these battles are going to have to planned, if we are to stand any chance,’ he
said
'And what will
your father think of that?' she said smiling mischievously.
He looked at her with
a smile, knowing she was mocking him. 'He'll hate it, but realise it’s for the
best. I'll have to talk to Wiznia and all the elders too. There's not much
time, it’s funny how quickly time slips away,'
'It is and I am stuck
in limbo land waiting for your brother. What can I do?' Yulla said smiling, her
body swaying playfully. She remembered what Boudica had said about Bezon being
a dead man,
'Don't you see, you've already helped me. You are my council,’ he looked at her
and was envious of his brother, wondering if he was alive.
'Thank you, my brother,' she said, looking him in the eye, as if her words could
keep him at bay.
[][][][]
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