Ciaran Mac Rory THE STONE OF DESTINY Part IV Londinium 60 A.D. .......... The trip south through Iceni territory is tense, as Roman patrols seem to be out in force. You hear rumors of unrest; possibly some of Boadicea's more unruly clansman are stirring up trouble again, at a particularly inopportune time. You wish you had time to detour, and visit her, possibly to say good-bye. But Scathach will not tolerate delays. "Either she'll still be here when you get back, or she won't," Scathach says, with her typical way of looking at things. "Worry more about whether you'll be coming back." You haven't been to Londinium in a few years. It's been built up more since you were here last. Notably, the temple to their "God/Emperor" Augustus dominates the central square. Scathach looks around in disgust, noting the many Celts who live like Romans, who are rapidly becoming Romans in all but name. "We don't have much to barter with," she says. "Romans like items of value, and someone who pilots a ship won't want cows." "I figure we've got two choices....try to convince someone our services are worth passage to Rome, or else steal something, here in Londinium, and use that to pay our passage. Unless you've got a better idea." It takes a moment for the last comment to sink in. She's listened to your counsel before, even followed it every once in a while, but this is the first time you can remember her ever *asking* for it. <><><><><> The sight of Londinium is inspiring in some regards, but disheartening in most. The way of life of the Celts was being absorbed by the Romans. Soon enough the whole of Prydain would likely fall completely under it's influence. Having to keep their weapons concealed and out of sight so as not to draw to much attention to themselves was abothersome inconvenience but right now, an entanglement with the Roman soldiers, mostly older veterans and retirerees due to the legions' involvements elsehwere, would be a costly delay. The streets of the town or city of Londinium was far more refined and modern compared to most towns or villages of the Celts. Ciaran had seen how the capital of the Iceni had developed with the influence of Rome at it's doorstep. These things, luxuries and advancements were very apealing. Ciaran could see how easy it was to fall under the sway of the Roman's without ever actually conflicting with sword. But the Roman yoke had a price... it always did. When Scathach asked his opinion, it took him a long while to respond. "I didna' think stealing anything is a good idea... and if'n it were, findin' the right thing to steal would depend on what someone else wanted. I havena' much sense for what is valuable to people who might want to take us to to Gaul." He continued to ponder and it showed in his face. He raked his fingers through the course beard and kept a furrowed brow. his eyes looked around him warily as always but most of his attention was focused on his thoughts. "We can scout about at the waterfront... to see if'n we can **hire** on." The concept of selling services for coin was not unknown to Ciaran. He had travelled Prydain and had used Roman and Prydain coin. He had bartered services for it. As a matter of fact, even Tara had seen some trade in the roman coinage. Not much but a few had made their way over there. Mostly they were kept by those who valued the materials they were made of. Roman Gold could be melted and beaten into torcs and armbands. Or just horded by the more miserly. "Aye, I think the place to be is near the river bruigheads." <><><><><> [GM] By the docks, you feel a little less out of place, only because there are so many other non- Romans here. You've seen some of the other troops the Romans have brought to Prydain, men with dark skin, narrow eyes, curly hair and other unceltic features, and you've heard a few of the place names....Africa, Germania, Illyricum, Syria....all the other lands dominated by Rome supply troops that are sent throughout the Empire. A few Prydain troops are probably now serving in the places these men came from. Many of the sailors are from these foreign lands, and you hear a confusing babble of languages, along with pidgin-Latin. It's hard to tell where you might find a receptive captain though. Of course there are Celts on the continent, cousins of the Cymri of Prydain, and perhaps someone from Hispania or Gaul will be more friendly than one of the swarthy Easterners. <><><><><> He looked over the possibilities as they walked along the packed street. Little attention was paid to them, as they were the type of people who lived in this country. But the fact that there were so many peoples from so many places was a bit intimidating to Ciaran. He had been here before, and yet each time was something of a new experience. Londinium's port had grown and was attracting people from far reaching places. Peoples that Ciaran had never seen, and some places Ciaran had never heard of. Most of these people were a new sight and sound to the Eriu Celt. He had seen peoples from different parts of the world, but each time he came here, there were more and more... and now there were so many at one time. He did his best to keep the naive gawking expressions limited and hidden, but he wasn't completely successful. He knew this. Sadly, he had lived more than 80 summers, and had never seen the world beyond the Celtic Isles. But that was going to change very soon. "Come ," he said to Scathach. "I'm thinking we might be able to get some more favor if'n we found a gallic capt'n and crew." He walked along the dock line looking over the numerous vessels and crews trying to find one such crew that might suit their needs and disposition. <><><><><> [GM] It takes only a little searching before you find a small ship, little more than a ferry, with a Gallic crew. They dress mostly in Roman fashion, but their language has a familiar resonance, and you can see a few trappings of Celtic culture still apparent in their jewelry and hairstyles. When you approach, the captain, a man considerably shorter than you, but with huge, beefy arms, capable of holding tight to a rope during a squall, initially looks at Scathach, but finally turns his attention to you. Scathach is capable of speaking for herself, of course, and a Gaul would be less surprised by this than a Roman, so whether she is letting you do the talking as a way of testing you again, or out of disdain, you can't be sure. It could be she's just in one of her moods where she doesn't feel like talking. <><><><><> Whatever her reasoning, it wouldn't be wise for him to question it. He walked up to the man whom appeared to be the Captain of the Gallic ship. He looked the man squarely in the eyes and offered his wrist as a measure of respect and honor. He addressed the man in the language of the Prydain. "We seek passage on a ship... to Gaul," he said. "My name is Ciaran and this is Scadach." He purposely altered her name in case she did not wish to have it spoken. Ciaran couldn't be sure what reaction, if any, the name would bring and it might be best to offer her some privacy. She was well renowned in Eriu and in Prydain as a fearsome warrior and trainer of warriors. But he couldn't be sure of the loyalties of these Gauls and it was safer to tell them what he wanted them to know and no more. "We have little to offer in exchange for this passage, but upon my honor and word, our need is of great importance to our peoples... We would offer ourselves in service to guard or defend you and yours through this passage.... mayhap offer our strength to help you on the passage as well." He looked at the man fixed him with a gaze that he reserved for times when he tried to read people's souls. <><><><><> [GM] The captain nods, listening to you, not necessarily acquiescing, just a nod that acknowledges he understands what you're saying. Your hard stare reveals little; he seems unmoved by it. "Well," he says. "To be honest, I don't have much need for additional crew during the journey. Not for defending ourselves, either, the channel is pretty safe. We usually hire a few local lads at either end of a trip to help load and unload our cargo, but that's not really worth the cost of a trip." He looks at Scathach, speculating, and back at you. "You both look hale and strong, though, if hauling things isn't beneath you." He can clearly see that you are of the warrior class. "If you'll agree to stay with me for three trips, helping with loading and unloading both ways, I'll consider that adequate payment....and for passage back, too, should you be coming back and find me in port in Gaul when you do." <><><><><> "We must discuss this." "A moment then," he asked of the man. He turned to Scathach and gave her a level look as he spoke the Eriu tongue in a low voice. "My experience is limited here Scathach, I dinna' know if'n this is a good deal or what... Seems we need to make quite a few trips before we are free to travel on our way. You tell me..." <><><><><> [GM] Off to the side, Scathach shrugs. "What he's asking is not unreasonable," she says. "He could choose to be more charitable, but it's his ship, and doubtless many would ask to be ferried across just for an afternoon's help." "I would prefer to be on our way as quickly as we can. Three trips across and back might take as many weeks. Can we find another way across in less time than that?" <><><><><> "Aye... we can," he whispered. "I can think of several..." He waited just to make sure no one was eavesdropping who might be able to speak the Eriu tongue. It was similar enough to the Prydain tongue that someone well enough versed could get an idea of what was being said. "We can look for another ship... try to do this honorably... It will take time. But the return of the Stone is far too important and honor must give way to expediancy here. Plan 2... We accept the captain's offer, and we depart when we reach Gaul... I don't feel comfortable about it, but I have forsaken my honor until this quest is finished or I am dead." "What say you to that?" <><><><><> [GM] Scathach sighs. "I don't much like shafting him either, but we do what we have to. And he's just a mortal. So be it." <><><><><> He nodded. He was a mortal. Did that fact make his life any less important? Did that fact make his needs any less important? Was it okay to cheat a man who wasn't immortal? Was life that cheap to Immortals, that they could hold such arrogance and prejudice because of a fact of longevity. Or was it simply the callousness that came with years of living when life was no longer enjoyable..... He allowed his thoughts to wander a bit as he wondered whether he would end up like this. Ciaran turned back to the ship's captain and approached him again. He didn't want to cheat the man, but he had to do it. It was the right thing in the grander scheme of things. He wasn't of the mind that this was justifiable because the man was a mortal though. He reaffirmed that in his mind as he closed his mind to errant thoughts and composed himself. Ciaran returned to the use of Prydanian speech. "We will accept your offer for passage, as it is the best one we have been given. When do we sail, and where do we start?" <><><><><> [GM] The captain nods. "Now," he says, gesturing at the remaining cargo sitting on the dock- which, contrary to Scathach's earlier comment, includes a set of six cows. Another crewman is already leading them up a plank, cursing as he tries to make sure the animals don't step off and go tumbling into the water. The rest of the cargo yet to be loaded is light bales of cloth, and a few stacks of timber. The cows are taking up most of the ship's cargo capacity. <><><><><> The Celt shrugged. "I dinna' know much about cattle but, I can try... or I can put me back into a few of them stacks of cut timber." He looked at the two jobs. "Aye I'm thinkin' I'll make less of a mess with the wood." He set his carry sack on the dock and tightened his sword about his waist as he headed for the lumber. He tested the lumber to determine whether he would need help or not. Either way, the stuff had to get on the boat and Ciaran would do his part to be a part of the crew while he could. <><><><><> [GM] You and Scathach get the cargo loaded. The ship leaves Londinium that afternoon. The crew is friendly, though since you're on board basically as a cargo-handler, they don't accord you the same respect they might normally. Of course many of them flirt with Scathach; she rebuffs them wordlessly, at least managing not to be overtly rude. The Captain curiously questions you as to what you need to do in Gaul that is so important to your people. The ship makes most of the distance overnight, but has to sit offshore until dawn, so that they can steer it into port on the Gallic coast. Early in the morning, you dock, and start unloading cargo. <><><><><> He tells the Captain very little save for the fact that Gaul will not be his final destination. Indeed, it is for the heart of the Empire in the East that he is bound. The reason why must remain a mystery and Ciaran tells him that it is all part of a Geas. As expected and required, Ciaran earns his keep in the unloading of the cargo. There is no rush to leave. Time and the Goddess will provide. Appearances must be kept. And timing with Scathach was of utmost importance. <><><><><> [GM] When finished with the unloading, the crew pauses to rest a little. From what you overhear, next some of the goods will be taken into town, as there is a merchant the captain has already sold some of the cargo to, while the rest will stay here on the docks to be haggled over. The captain will probably ask you and Scathach to help carry the cloth into town, or maybe to watch the cows. But Scathach grabs your sleeve and says in Eiru Celtic, "Now's as good a time as any to slip away." <><><><><> Ciaran nodded surreptiously when Scathach chose the moment. "Lead on Woman... You know your way around these parts... I've never been here... but I can follow well enough." <><><><><> [GM] You slip away from the docks, and Scathach leads you out of the small coastal town. She begins a hike south. "We could go overland all the way," she says. "But that would mean crossing the Alps, a mountain range far larger than any mountains found in Prydain or Eriu. It will probably be faster to head for the coast, and get another ship at Massilia. This time maybe we should think about picking up something of value along the way, to pay our passage. And once we get to Rome, we'll get nothing done, not to mention have nothing to eat, unless we have Roman coins." <><><><><> He nodded, for a lack of anything better to do. "I have nothing of value... and I don't know what people consider valuable... I value things because I like them, but I wouldna' have a clue if'n they were worth any Roman coin." He followed along after her for a time before speaking again. "Do ye have any suggestions?" He was rather worried about leaving Scathach that much room and freedom to decide how their future should be handled, but she had the experience and skills. Even if the years had cost her in principles and scruples, Ciaran had to do whatever it took to get the Stone back and that meant doing as she suggested. <><><><><> [GM] "Aye, we can steal what we need along the way," Scathach says. "If you don't like that idea, we can make sure we steal from Romans. There are bound to be some legionnaires between here and the coast. A foot-bound patrol would be easiest, but we can probably also infiltrate a garrison along the road." <><><><><> "We will do whatever we have to and if'n that means we steal... then we steal. I would prefer to keep it to the Romans if'n at all possible, but I'll do what I have to..." He continued on in silence for a time. Finally a thought occurred to him. "How do ye think Achilleus will travel... The stone is cumbersome and hardly a thing one can move with ease. It's big and bulky. I's wondering if'n we could gain some ground on him... or is this wishful thinkin'?" <><><><><> [GM] "Achilleus probably took a ship all the way to Rome, or else he had a horse," Scathach says. "I doubt we'll catch him, we'd be lucky if we're even taking the same route." You travel for many days across the wild lands of Gaul, and some of the not-so-wild lands, as the Roman influence here is much more extensive, and older. Their roads, in particular, are even more impressive on the continent than the ones they've built in Prydain. And of course there is the size of the land. You'd have crossed Prydain and back again, and Scathach says you're only about halfway to the far coast. She is able to speak the local tongue, though she tells you her dialect is a little archaic. You find it sounds much as the Prydain tongue did when you first left Eiru. But now, at least, you speak Latin, and most towns have fluent Latin speakers. <><><><><> There is little for him to say. Little for him to contribute. He knew nothing of the lands or the people. But each place they stopped and each place they rested. He listened and learned. Wherever he could, he offered a song or a take. Singing could be done in his native tongue, but the telling of tales was best cone in a language that tohers could understand. And Ciaran found Latin to be most cumbersome and his command of it was hardly skilled enough to make his tellings worthy of any note. But alone on the roads or in the glen camps with his mentor, he could while away time and keep her mind at ease with these things. She spoke his tongue quite well. He felt it was the least he could do. Scathach was risking much... somehow he knew that she too was bound by some Geas to do this. She didn't want to, but she had to. What Ciaran could not understand was what Achilleus hoped to gain by taking the Stone. What could he do with it in Rome. Or was it simply the place he wanted to be.... There was something missing to this and that something had to do with Scathach's past history with Rome... and Roman Immortals. It might not be the end to all this, but it certainly was an important factor. Soon enough he would see this City... the heart of the Empire in the East and home to the King of the World. He could only hope he would be ready. <><><><><> [GM] Having crossed forests, meadows, and small mountain ranges, it sometimes seems that the trip across the continent will never end. But eventually the land flattens a little as it gives way to woodlands again. You see mountains in the distance, off to the southeast, and Scathach says you're only a couple of days from the coast. Descending along a road towards another small town, you pass a Roman garrison. The soldiers hardly take notice of you. A little ways further, and you see a mounted patrol making its way unhurriedly up the road in your direction, probably returning to the garrison after making a circuit of the roads surrounding the town. Six cavalrymen, wearing chain and carrying spears. You and Scathach step aside to let them pass, but as they come nearer, you both sense the Quickening. "Ah, s***," Scathach sighs. <><><><><> "Oh Aye," he whispers, his eyes searching the soldiers for a sign as to who was the immortal among them. A few years ago he would have been beset by nerves at the thought of an immortal presence. Scared enough to make a hostile gesture or assume a defensive posture. The years have begun to temper him. He is still scared to the point of a bout of nerves, but he has learned to hide that and to control his reactions much better now. **5 mortals and an immortal,** he thinks as he calculates the possibilities and strategies. There was a great deal of variables for Ciaran when it came to dealing with Romans. He was much closer to their homeland now and their attitudes were different here than in Prydain. **Mounted... light armor** And he tries to narrow down who the immortal is. Eye contact. <><><><><> [GM] The Roman in the lead, judging by the way he stares you and Scathach down, is probably the Immortal. He pulls his horse to a halt, and the other riders do likewise. He looks like a perfectly average Roman soldier, fit and well-equipped, shorter than you, but there is no apparent nervousness on his part. "I am Septimus Quarles." He pauses, then asks "Where do you hail from, and what is your business?" <><><><><> Putting aside his own concerns, the eiru Celt steels his mind. He knows the question was directed at him, for Romans don't consider women as anything but second class citizens at their best. He rounded to face the questioning man and studied the expression in his eyes. The lack of nervousness on his part could mean any number of things. For one, he could be very ancient and very experienced. Two, he was a Roman and an Immortal and that in itself was always a bad combination for ego purposes. There were plenty more possibilities but Ciaran didn't feel like thinking about them right now. And so he simply answered the Roman to see where conversation would get them. He mustered his best Latin. "My name is Ciaran Of Eiru, and my companion is called... Scada." He paused to think a bit as if he were trying to get the words right. "We are journeying to Rome, to see the great city in the East... We are simply passing through these parts." <><><><><> [GM] The Roman appears curious. "Rome? And why would two Celts from so far away be journeying to Rome?" <><><><><> **If'n I said sight seeing you ignorant ass, ye wouldna' believe me,** he thought to himself. "We have some things to do there... some personal matters... " Ciaran didn't want to offer too much, but he wasn't sure what this romans tolerance level was. If he was a typical Roman as his name suggested, then that level was going to be low when it came to dealing with foreigners. <><><><><> [GM] "Personal matters....I see." Septimus leans forward in his saddle, regarding you with hawk-like stare. "Looking for anyone in particular?" <><><><><> The Celt nodded. "Of course... But you know that." Ciaran looked at the other Roman cavalrymen to ensure that they're posture and positions were known to him. "Achilleus stole something from my people, and I have to return it... We all have duties and ties and things that bind us." He looked at the men again and then back to Septimus. "Wouldn't you agree?" <><><><><> [GM] "Achilleus?" The Roman sits up straight in his saddle. "You're going to Rome to meet Achilleus?" He laughs and shakes his head. "Well, I'll not stop you, then. I don't expect I'll see you again." Chuckling, he spurs his horse forward. His men follow, looking a little puzzled by the conversation. <><><><><> He watched the Romans ride off. Deep inside him he felt that Septimus was probably right. It was unlikely they would meet again. He turned to look at Scathach and smiled weakly. "Rome's not gettin' any closer," he said softly trying to put aside the doubts stirred afresh by Septimus. <><><><><> [GM] "Aye," Scathach grumbles. As you continue on, she says "I didn't get the impression that Achilleus is any great friend of his. Obviously he knows who he is....but I'll wager he'll shed no tears if he learns Achilleus lost his head. I wonder how well-regarded the big fomori is among other Roman immortals." <><><><><> Ciaran nodded in agreement about the fact that Septimus would not likely shed any tears for Achilleus. He wasn't so sure that Achilleus was going to lose his head any time soon though. No matter how much training Ciaran did enroute, he knew he was still smaller and lacked the defenses that the.... *Fomori* as Scathach called him... possessed in ample quantity. Now they were in Roman territory and he felt his chances to take the Roman in a fair fight, if such a thing existed, were dwindling with each mile. Already his mind began to consider a less than honorable approach. He would hunt the Roman Immortal.... The problem was in how he would express this to Scathach. She surely had to sense his doubts and his growing apprehension as they travelled. Finally he summoned the courage to speak his mind as they walked. "Scathach," he said with a sigh. "I've been doing a lot of muddlin'. We havena' found anything of worth... We have no coin to speak of... Have ye considered how we will face the Roman? Or Who?" <><><><><> [GM] "It won't be too hard to steal something we can sell, if it comes to that," Scathach says. "As for facing Achilleus, no, I haven't thought much about how we'll face him. We'll cross that river when we come to it." Scathach usually exercises a little more forethought than that, but then, she also shows fatalistic acceptance for situations that can't be changed. "If he just brought the Stone to Rome to be some kind of trophy for his emperor, perhaps we can steal it back. If there is some other purpose behind his actions, we'll have to discover it." <><><><><> Of course there was some ulterior motive. Nothing in life was that easy. Achilleus was a brute, but he certainly wasn't stupid. "I am finding that I am less than thrilled with that idea. I don't even want to think what he might be hoping to do with Stone and any other thing he might have stolen from Danu knows where." "How much further to Rome from here do you figure?" What he really wanted to know was how much time did he still have for training. <><><><><> [GM] "Another couple of days to the coast," Scathach says. "And from there, a trip by boat will take about another day." She shrugs. "What else can we do? We have no friends in Rome, and no way of knowing what Achilleus is up to until we get there." <><><><><> He didn't know whether to shrug or nod. He did neither. They had no friends and no contacts. They were obviously foreignors. Ciaran could see that as they continued towards the coast. The people were different. Even the Gauls were roman looking to some extent. The years of interracial mingling was very evident in Southern Gaul. This boatride was not going to be free and Ciaran didn't have any livestock to barter, not that the romans would be interested in his country's form of commerce. He mused this and other thoughts while he walked the road with Scathach. So at least he understood now that when they arrived in Rome there would be some time spent getting to know the city. Scathach would make as good a guide as any Celt could hope for. And it was only a few days away. "And I suppose we need to get some coin for this boatride?" <><><><><> [GM] "Aye," Scathach says. "Unless we spot an opportunity to loot some Romans between here and Massilia, which is the Roman port we are heading for, we'll have to wait until we reach the city to get any coins, though." She glances at you, and smiles crookedly. "You don't much like the idea of stealing or cheating mortals, do you? I'm not saying myself it's particularly honorable...but they inflict more harm on one another than we ever could." <><><><><> "Ahhh.... Aye, I see," he siad with an obvious hint of sarcasm. He walked about ten paces before speaking again. "And that makes it okay," he said. It was a statement, not a question. "We use them because they don't know any better and they are less than us... Good system. We build in our own justifications and it closes the circle nicely." Another couple of paces. "I am doing what I have to do to get the Stone back... and while it is also a justification... It's a far cry more honorable an intention then acting simply because I can... or because they will do worse to themselves." A few more paces. "If I live long enough, I guess I will grow callous and cold... but that day is not today. I will do what I have to do..." <><><><><> [GM] Scathach turns on you and explodes. "I dinna say we are better than them! But when you look at it, your quest for this bloody Stone, the Roman's wanting to conquer Prydain, the tribes wanting to keep their own ways so they can keep fighting each other over cows and women and which king has a bigger dick...it's ALL equally stupid! The only motive any of us has is survival, and if justifications make that easier to live with, I'll take the damn justifications! So go ahead and feel guilty about your wounded 'honor', and tell me just who else is going to care about whether a piece of rock is in Eiru or Rome in a thousand years?" She turns back around and stalks on, simmering. <><><><><> With her back to him he could a afford a slight smile. Though he could never be sure just how keen her senses really were, he took the risk. **Good, Scathach... You keep on fightin' lass... Keep lookin' fer somethin' to believe in. And never give up. It'd be a damn sad day fer me if'n i heard you'd done gone and lost yer head.** He allowed her to walk things off a bit. "Scathach... Yer absolutely correct... It's all equally stupid... And yer right... What's to care about a stupid piece of rock... No one seems to care much about it now, but what I do know is that Achilleus is not an honorable man, and what he might do with the Stone and the power it possesses.... A bad thing indeed. That is why I am doing this.... Because he must be stopped... Not because the Stone belongs anywhere.... I just have to make sure he doesna' have it... Before it's too late." Then he chuckled and added. "And as far as I know, this was never about the size of anyone's dick. I was just talking and tryin' to understand things... not make ye angry lass." <><><><><> [GM] "Stop calling me lass!" she snaps. "Ye haven't earned that right. You think because I'm showing some temper you can talk to me like I'm a girl?" She walks on fuming a while longer, and then laughs. "Ach, I'm a liar, Ciaran. I'm lying to you and to myself. I do still believe in honor...and other things. But it's a lot easier to follow a Fianna Code when you've just got the one life to worry about. Time goes by, and you have to adapt, and when you get old like me, you start fancying you're honorable just because you haven't turned out like some of those other immortals, who will lop off a mortal's head just because they can." <><><><><> He really didn't know what to say. Sometimes people were just angry to be angry. Sure she had a few years, but she was an Immortal. If he had called her old woman, she would have bitched about that too. Finally the tension was broken by her own laughter. It was a long time coming but thankfully she seemed to understand what he was after. He simply wanted her to talk, and stop brooding. He wanted himself to stop brooding. Things would be bad enough in short time without making the journey unpleasant for each other. "Scathach... There's a lot of things I'm sure I haven't earned... I'm sorry that I spoke out of me turn... I can't promise ye anything, but I'll try to do better." "We live day by day, never knowing when some Immortal with eyes for a head hunt will come our way... or when we will cross one and they come looking for revenge. We always wonder if'n we're good enough... Me, I wonder about it every day. I know I'm at a point in the game where I'm better than a fledgling and not good enough to face things as deep as this without help... I question my honor and my convictions... and ye know what?" "Honor is all we really have. No matter how long a body lives. Even when we doubt why we are honorable and doubt if our honor is even real. There are moments that try us and test us, and we find out that if our hearts are strong... then our honor is real." "It's the thing that no one can take away. Not even time can strip us of our honor. Honor is the guide we follow when we are faced with moral decsions. It is the thing that reminds us that we are not evil... that we are good and just and that we can do much with what we have been given. Perhaps we are in this world to help mortals.... not use them." "Medb took my dignity, and my pride, She broke my will and my spirit... She damn near took my head. But I held onto my honor and it kept me alive. It made me survive when I was eating mud in a pit, trying to suck water. Through all the games that I was the Fidchell piece between her and Morrigan... I made myself believe that I would survive. It was all I had left. It allowed me to remember the things you taught me... It allowed me to remember who I was..." "I hope that I live as long and well as you. Call yourself a liar, but I know differently. I trust only two people in this whole world... and you are one. Friends among our kind are hard to come by.... I count you as one of mine. Some day I hope that will I have earned your respect, and the right to walk beside you as an equal. Ye have more honor and more couage than any person I know. Even Cuculhain... There's that fine line between courage and stupid bravado. He was my friend, my first teacher... And as such, I can say this... He had crossed that line." "Without Honor... we're nothing." <><><><><> [GM] Scathach walks a while longer, her head down slightly, as if something you said weighs heavily on her. Finally she says "About Cuculainn. I think there's something you should know about him, something I've let you believe for all these years, though I never actually *lied* to you...." She pauses, then says "He wasn't an immortal." <><><><><> He stopped walking. He stared at her back for the few paces that she continued forward, but he really wasn't looking at her. His eyes were unfocused as he thought through things in his mind. Trying desparately to understand her last statement. Ciaran looked at the ground, and at his feet, and then back up towards Scathach, and then upward to the sky. He took a deep breath and sighed loudly. With a nod, he admitted, "No... Ye never lied t me on that..." "Ye let me believe what I wanted to believe. What I needed to believe. But he's dead now, and being a mortal only deepens my respect for him as a warrior... And suddenly his courage is not quite so insane...." Ciaran shrugged, shouldered his pack and rested his hand on the pommel of the sword and walked on. He smiled as he caught up tp Scathach again. "Anything else you'd like to mention?" <><><><><> [GM] "Like what?" she retorts. "Like why I let you believe he was an immortal, or why I trained him in the first place?" She shakes her head. "I just thought you ought to know. He deserves that much respect, and should be remembered truly for what he was....headstrong and mad, as you say, yes, but as an immortal, he might be considered merely unusual. For a mortal.....he was one of a kind. I never saw his like, before or since." <><><><><> "He was a good friend too." Ciaran stared at the road they walked along for a time as his thoughts wandered. The dust of the road lifted around his ankles and he remembered a road like this that he walked many years ago. The two boys walked and sang and laughed as if there was not a care in the world. Young Seatanta had been accepted into the Red Branch Knights and after tonights feast would no longer be a part of the youth group. Seatanta... or Cuculhain as the nickname had been given, was not like any other youth. He was cunning and strong and fierce. He had courage and very little fear. Some said none, but his younger friend knew better. Ciaran Mac Rory was new to the youth knights and was sponsored in his training by Seatanta. They became friends. Ciaran possesed a flicker of the courage that Cuculhain had, and that was saying a great deal. The older boy was impressed with his skills, enough to ask to sponsor him. But today would be their last walk for some time. Seatanta would have new duties and responsibilities to attend to. King Conchobar's elite forces did not have time to dally and meander in fields and glens and skip stones on glassy ponds and lochs. "Bet I can hit the big rock out there," said the older boy as he aimed a skipping stone and gauged the throw. The rock was more than 100 strides distant in the middle of the loch. "Bet ye can't," chided the younger. Ciaran admired the older boy deeply. Being a friend of his was status and prestige and it also meant the best training and the best training partner. Glory and privelege. The older boy chuckled. "Ciaran, we've come here dozens of times and I always pick up a stone and challenge you that I can hit it... and ye always say I can't. Why?" Ciaran shrugged and scuffed his feet in the grasses and bullrushes and then smiled at his friend. "'Cause if'n I agreed with ye, then ye wouldn't throw the stone, and I wouldna' get to see ye hit the rock again... One day I'm gonna hit the rock too." Seatanta laughed and chucked the stone and it skipped across the lake after a long throw and pinged heavily against the large rock. It was a ritual. Cuculhain pulled two grasses and handed one to Ciaran and stuck the other in his mouth. Ciaran imitated him and did the same. "Ciaran," said Cuculhain in a hushed voice. "Ye'll make the Red Branch real soon.... I know ye will.... I trained ye. When ye get a wee bit bigger... we'll ride into battle together..." He paused and looked at his younger friend and winked. "I'll race ye back to Emain Macha!" Seatanta started off at a sprint and ciaran spit out his grass and started after him, knowing he wouldn't beat him, but trying his hardest all the same. "I'm gonna hit that rock," he called out. The road never seemed to end. Ciaran licked his dry lips and sighed. he looked at Scathach and gave her a weak smile. "I swore to him I would hit the rock......" He didn't bother to explain to her what that meant. <><><><><> [GM] "We all make promises," Scathach mutters. She drills you hard that night, harder than since you left her island the first time. Both of you are breathless and bloody when she finally lowers her spear and lets the exercise end. "It's a hard thing," she says, "to be no longer new to the Game, and still knowing that most of the other players are better'n you." You've learned a few new tricks from Scathach, these past few weeks, but she's still better than you. Still the best warrior you've ever seen, save- maybe- Cuculainn. And now she sits down with you, in front of the fire, and asks you to tell her about your duel with Achilleus. This time she demands details, every last detail about the fight, blows you struck, blows Achilleus struck, and where it went wrong. Then she starts analyzing it. She tries to recreate it by playing the part of Achilleus. "If you had more time to watch him fight," she says, "you'd be able to analyze his style better. You've only seen him twice, though, once against Rhys, and then you. So you'd better remember real good." She starts going over the most important points. "You're overly impressed by the Roman's size and strength. The only real advantage that gives him is being able to carry lots of armor. Sure'n it means if he hits you, it'll hurt, but if you hit him, you can do crippling damage too. You took his arm out with one blow, didn't you? Assuming both fighters are grown men and know how to use their weapons, whoever lands the first solid blow in a duel usually wins." "He likes armor. Armor is heavy, it slows you down, but its main disadvantages are in long term use. In single combat, if one man is wearing armor and the other isn't, the odds go heavily in favor of the man in armor. Without armor, you *might* be fast enough to run around him faster than he can turn. But I don't think that's a good trick to rely on." "The shield is a little different. It also gives him an advantage, but it can become his death. You left him with his only good arm weighed down by a big piece of metal....if you hadn't already lost a leg yourself, you'd probably have had him." "The most important thing to remember, though, is that he relies on his own size and strength, and his armor and his shield, more than he relies on his own skills." She smiles grimly. "I didn't make you run up and down hillsides, climb trees, swim through the surf and get dashed against rocks, dodge traps, and fight for your life with your bare hands, just because I liked it. I trained you to be a warrior, someone who's still a warrior even if you're without any weapons at all. Achilleus is only a warrior with all his weapons and armor, pointed at the enemy with his troops behind him. If you fight him on his own terms, you probably can't beat him." "You have to take him out of his environment somehow." <><><><><> "Oh Aye." "That thought has occurred to me now more'n once since my last fight with the big ox. I plan to give him a fair fight... within reason. He gets no time and he doesna' get to pick the site this time..." "My terms and my time. " "But we will need to find out where the damn Stone is at first." <><><><><> [GM] "Yes. There's surely some reason why he took it." Scathach sighs, and looks weary. She gives you a long, unfathomable look, then rises from the fire you built for your campsite, and goes over to lie down on the grass. As at home in the wilderness as an animal, she needs not even a cloak to sleep on. According to her, you should see the coast tomorrow. <><><><><> He stared into the fire and tried to feel the energy of the dancing flames. The connections that the world created among all it's forces. He reached for the Quickening. He knew he spent an enormous amount of energy in the last duel. He also knew that he would likely need that kind strength in the upcoming one. When he exhausted himself and grew weary of that exercise, Ciaran rose from the ground and walked around the fire once and then once around the encampment at the fringes of the fire's light. He returned and doused the flames and settled himself for sleep. The embers would keep him warm enough. Scathach could take care of herself. He closed his eyes and rested his hands upon each of his weapons. Morning would come soon enough. <><><><><> [GM] In the morning, you resume your hike. True to Scathach's prediction, by the late afternoon, you see a shimmering band of blue, on the horizon ahead of you. "If we continue on, we'll reach Massilia in the dark of night," she says. "Or we can wait and enter by day. We still have acquired nothing with which to pay for passage to Rome." <><><><><> "Night time it is then, in this city we might find something. I havena' a clue what we might find, but you do, and so.... I will follow." He continued to walk. He wanted this part of the journey over with. He wanted to have the whole affair over with. He wasn't impatient nor eager to find his death, but he was growing tired of the whole ordeal and it had hardly even begun. <><><><><> <> By the time you reach Massilia, you're tired, dead tired, and even Scathach seems to be running low on energy. You've pushed yourselves hard, even for Immortals. The gates are closed, of course, and the Legionnaires certainly aren't going to open them for two Celts in the predawn darkness. So Scathach squats down, her back against a tree, and closes her eyes, going into a sort of half-sleep you've always envied. She seems to be resting, yet you know some part of her is still awake and alert, staying attuned to her surroundings. While you sit there, she says suddenly, eyes still closed "It's time to stop fooling ourselves about how to pay our passage....the only things we have of value are our weapons, and all the honest ways we might earn Roman coin would take too long. The only quick and easy way to get what we need is to take it." <><><><><> He sat in a veil of darkness created by the shadows of the tree and the night. The walled city of Massilia was not far in the distance but the glow from it's warm interior and the light cast by the night-time sky played eerily about the woman's features. He arched an eyebrow, but he knew she was correct. He nodded, mostly to himself, in the dark recesses where he sat. "I'm not much on experience in this, but I do know how to hunt and track, and ye trained enough stealth into me, that I think I can carry my part in this... You know these peoples and this land... What do ye have in mind?" <><><><><> <> Scathach shrugs. "We find a wealthy-looking traveler and rob him. Of course wealthy travelers usually have guards. It might be easier to rob someone's house in the city, though that leaves less room for mistakes. Then again, I don't hold with mistakes." <><><><><> "It's not like I hold with them either woman," he said teasingly. "So we can do either. I have little preference as each has it's own risk." He thought for a few seconds and shrugged. "We can fight some guards and take some money, or we can scout out a city place and find a place that might not be used right now.... a wealthy man whose travellin'... deal with anyone left behind... we'd have to scout it good and know what we're up against... We'd have to scout either way... and once we do this thing, we canna' waste no time in getting to a boat and on our way to Rome." <><><><><> <> "We'll be burglars, then," Scathach says. "It's not so hard." She naps until sunrise, and then the two of you walk down to the road and into Massilia. It's a fairly large city, almost overwhelming to you, but Scathach tells you it's hardly more than a single neighborhood of Rome. "We'll just stroll around and look for good prospects," she says. "If we don't find an empty-looking mansion or warehouse, hell, maybe we'll find a drunken nobleman stumbling around in an alley." <><><><><> She was beginning to sound much too eager and accepting of this whole situation. Ciaran resolved to keep an eye on that. He had no deisre to become a wayfaring bandit or highwayman. He nodded to Scathach ina dispassionate way. He would do what had to be done to get the Stone away from Achilleus. Wandering through the streets he can't help but feel a mixture of awe and disgust. The place was big, bigger than anything he had seen, and Scathach said Rome made this look tiny. Buildings so close together, that you could not walk around each structure. Streets that were narrow and constricted with people and carts and animals. The smells were both intoxicating and repulsive. It was all too much. Ciaran spent most of the time looking at things of little importance because he had never seen anything of the sort before. Buildings that had several levels and reached upwards to the sky. All of three stories, one level on top of another. Even in Londinium they were just beginning a place of such a grand scale. A temple that was supposed to be... governement building or something. So many people, so many things. He could smell food and not see where the smell came from. The public sewer system amazed him and awed him. Such a amrvel of engineering. The Romans were indeed a people of good things, and they were the bringers of great darkness as well. There's was a way of change for his people. Luxury and decadence for those who could afford it or be born into it, and suffering and pain for those who had to bear the weight on their shoulders to support it. How could so many people live so close without there being problems. But he could see problems, but it still made him wonder why they did this to themselves. This Empire in the East was huge, surely there was land enough for all who wanted it. These people were so vastly different than he. So far removed now that he was from his home, he wished and hoped and muttered a prayer to the Earth Mother that these Romans would never reach his shores. It would be some time before he would shake the awe of his first visit to a *city.* ".... good prospects," he muttered to himself, not even knowing one if he were to trip over it. <><><><><> <> The homes of the Roman upper-class are as large as the Rath of a major king, and Scathach reiterates again that these are nothing compared to mansions in Rome. You walk around the city for most of the day, until Scathach picks a place that looks no different from any of the others, except that you see some servants helping an elderly man inside. "An old man, just a few servants...I'd say he's probably not as wealthy as his neighbors, can't afford regular houseguards. There's bound to be something of value in his house, and if we're lucky, the old man won't even wake up. The servants will sleep in their own room, we should have the run of the house if we're quiet." <><><><><> It felt wrong. Ciaran searched inside himself for some way to make sense of what he was about to do. Some justification that would make robbing an elder. Never before had he done something like this. *What if something goes wrong,* he asked himself in a moment of dark thought. *What do we do then... kill him... kill them all?* He nodded solemnly. He would do his part. He needed Scathach to get him to Rome. *They think we are barbarians....Uncivil and without honor, and the closer we get to their homeland, the more we become what they expect.....* Finally he spoke to her after what seemed like an eternity. "In the full of the night...when sleep is heaviest... and darkness is at it's full." <><><><><> <> Scathach nods. The two of you would go to a tavern, but you don't even have the coins or anything else to barter for drinks, and in a Roman town, you can't be sure you'd be able to exchange a story for hospitality. So you wander a bit, checking out the neighborhood, and then find an alley near the chosen mansion to settle in and wait for darkness. Night falls, and foot traffic decreases, but you can still see occasional pedestrians wandering past-- usually accompanied by servants carrying lanterns. Ironically, in their own cities, Romans are not safe after dark, but must travel with escorts to avoid footpads and brigands. Which is pretty much what you are right now, you realize uncomfortably. The night wears on, until you hear no one moving, and all candles and torches are extinguished in the homes surrounding you. Scathach stirs, ready to begin your invasion of the old man's home-- and then from perhaps one street over, you hear a woman screaming. <><><><><> The Celt was liking this skulking less and less, but coin was needed. The Stone had to be returned, and Achilleus had to be stopped. There were lesser evils and to achieve the greater good, Ciaran knew he had to walk a path of a lesser evil. But in whose eyes? From who's perspective? This old man would never understand that this evil being done to him was any less or any greater than his own needs and worries. As the hours wore on, Ciaran found himself increasingly troubled by these thoughts of perspective. When Scathach stirred and indicated that the time was right, he felt both a burning desire to be away from here and a relief that he could do something... anything, and that might drive his mind from idle thought. It was better than sitting and reflecting and souring his disposition in silence. He nodded and untied his sword. He didn't expect any trouble, but he certainly didn't want to be unprepared. His hand fell naturally at rest on the pommel of the weapon. Scathach was rising when he heard the scream. A woman's scream. His head snapped around to identify a direction. He bared his clenched teeth and concentrated on the darkness as if to divine some details that the windborne sounds might offer to him. No time could be wasted. He had lost many things and had forsaken others but he was a man of principle and honor. And no matter what he had set aside to pursue this Quest to Rome, he could not turn his back on someone in distress. He was a warrior. And he had taken an oath to protect people and serve the land... He was a Red Branch Knight and would always be one nomatter how many years had slipped by. He looked to Scathach and said nothing. His expression and determined countenance should be everything she needed to see to understand what his priorities were now. She could decide her own course, but Ciaran knew that he had to find this woman and help her. A voice of reason, seasoned by the lessons of Immortality, told him to be wary of a trap... but still he had to investigate and help. He was resolved never to be so callous and self centered as to allow the world to become alien and cold to him. He drew the broadsword that had once been Cait's... Medb's... and turned, two steps and he was at a run and heading for the sound of the scream. No delays. Her life could be at stake. <><><><><> <> Scathach sighs and mutters something under her breath, and follows you. The next street over-- two men, house-servants, by the looks of their simple tunics, lie on the ground, one groaning, the other unmoving. The woman who screamed has an arm around her throat; you can barely see the man behind her, but he's trying to drag her deeper into the alley. He's blocked her windpipe, but she's still kicking pretty fiercely. Two other men are positioned in front of her, sniggering, while a fourth is searching the bodies of the two fallen servants. He's the first to see your approach. He looks up and exclaims "Hey!" and then seems unable to say anything else, just gapes at you. <><><><><> "Not a good day for you," he hissed in latin as he rushed the man searching the bodies. Sword already drawn, he slashed at the crouched man's upper body in a sweeping arc. He would waste no time with that one. Even if his blow was light it would slow that one down, and Scathach was right behind him. The other three were more serious threats. Standing. Alerted now. And they had the woman. <><><><><> <> The first man barely raises his hand before you cut him down. He collapses to the ground with a scream that's cut short by Scathach. The other three now give you their full attention; the one with the woman holds onto her, but the other two raise weapons of their own, short, pointed swords. "You're not a guardsman!" one of the two growls. <><><><><> Still at a run, Ciaran shifts to his left to take that man out. He swung out wide enough to allow Scathach to advance right and protect his side. They carried short swords and that gave him reach, but his was a slashing weapon and they were using thrusters. After his initial slash he would set to parry a thrust if it came and then counterstrike with a backhanded slash. "You're a bright boy.... Not much good it will do you though," he said as he swung. <><><><><> <> Your first swing cleaves through the first man's skull, spilling his brains onto the street. He's dead before he hits the ground. Next to you, Scathach leaps forward and thrusts her spear at the second swordsman. He retreats desperately, which probably saves his life-- Scathach's spearpoint jabs him lightly. He hisses in pain, almost trips over his own two feet as he keeps backpedaling, then spins and runs in the opposite direction. The third man pauses just a moment longer, then lets go of the woman and turns to run also. The woman falls to the ground, exclaiming "Oh!", half-startled, half-frightened. Scathach seems poised to chase the two fleeing footpads, then curses. "Well, that's spoiled everything!" she snaps in Cymric. "We'd better get out of this neighborhood." <><><><><> He nodded in complete agreement with Scathach. But something needed to be finished. He held his sword behind him as he dropped to a crouch before the fallen woman and he spoke quickly in his poor Latin. "You are safe... You're servants are dead... The Brigands will not trouble you again this night... The nightwatch will be here soon, and they will not understand that we helped you... We must find some place to hide for a time... Can you make it safely to your home now?" <><><><><> <> "Actually, I don't think this one is dead," Scathach comments in Celtic, prodding one of the fallen servants with the butt of her spear. He groans again. The woman looks at you. It's too dark to determine her age. "You're barbarians!" she exclaims, not sounding frightened, just surprised. Her perfectly ingenuous tone robs the words of any insult that might otherwise have been conveyed. Scathach snorts, but the Roman woman goes on to say "You...you might get in trouble for rescuing me? Yes, I suppose you might. You should come with me to my house." She struggles to stand up. <><><><><> He arched an eyebrow at her use of generic term the Romans used for anyone not of their blood. Barbarian indeed. Ciaran looked at the fallen servant whom Scathach was standing over and nodded slightly and then back to the woman. He smiled slightly and moved back as the woman tried to rise from the ground. He stood and put the sword away and helped her to stand. " Who and what we are can be told later. We must go and go quickly... I will carry the servant," he said in Latin. As soon as the woman looked like she could stand by herself, Ciaran moved to the servant and cradled him in his arms and lifted him. "Can you walk with her," he asked in Cymric to Scathach. "She will not know what to look for or what to avoid, nor will she move nearly as fast as we must." After a moment to gain his center of balance Ciaran gestured that he was ready to follow them and started forward. <><><><><> <> Scathach nods, with an exasperated sigh. The woman stoops over the other servant and murmurs "Oh! Poor Lin!" The servant you picked up seems to have taken a blow on the head with a blunt weapon, which may have saved his life, but whether it's just a nasty bump or something that will kill him within the next day or two remains to be seen. "We have to bring Lin with us," she says. "He's dead, woman!" Scathach snaps. "Yes, but if the guards find out one of *my* servants was killed late at night, it will lead to questions about what he was doing out at night, and.....well, we have to take him with us." Scathach seems to debate for a moment whether it would be simpler to throw the dead servant over her shoulders, or smack the woman over the head and carry her instead. Realizing you need the woman to lead you to her home, she sighs and bends over, heaves the body up and over her shoulders, and then growls "Now let's GO!" The Roman woman begins moving forward, much slower and more cautiously than either of you would, even with your burdens. Fortunately, her house turns out to be just up the street. She breathes an audible sigh of relief when she gets inside the gates and another house servant emerges with a lantern, blinking in shock at you and Scathach and your burdens. <><><><><> Ciaran does his best to urge her to greater haste by keeping his pace strong and actually leading her for a few paces during the short escape from the scene of the attack. But, since he doesn't know the way, he has to ultimately follow her lead, and his efforts at more speed are not successful. Mercifully the villa was just up the road. "Just don't stand there man," snapped Ciaran at the shocked servant. "This man is injured and must be tended. Now lead me to a place to lay him down, or I will drop him here and you can carry the lug." <><><><><> <> The servant gapes, then helps you carry his associate inside. "Mistress, wh..what happened?" "I was attacked, isn't that obvious?" the Roman woman replies curtly. "And these brave barbarians came to my rescue!" Inside, as the light from a central firepit illuminates the room, you can see that the woman is in that intermediate range, no longer young, not yet old, still somewhat attractive, with curly black hair that's now in disarray. "Lay Dona down here, and put poor Lin in the cellar for now, we'll have to see to his burial tomorrow." She finally turns back to you, and brushes hair out of her eyes. "I have not yet had time to thank you. What is your name, noble warrior?" <><><><><> He relinquished his burden where the woman told him to do so. "My name is Keer-un, he said. He spoke in Latin but his own name did not translate and so he used a phonetic approach. "This is Sky-Ah," he continued with a gesture to his mentor. "We're Celts travelling from Britannia on our way to Rome." He offered her a slight smile. He spoke slowly and deliberately. What he had to say would take an effort on his part and Latin was an unforgiving language to foreignors. "If I understand this word Noble, then I am not it... But I am a man of honor and maybe that is what you mean... I have served Kings and Queens, and Sky-Ah has trained some of the greatest warriors that the Celts have ever told tale of. Your hospitality and kind words are greatly appreciated... But MY companion and I must not delay for long. We must needs find a way to earn coin to pay our passage to Rome and afford us food and lodging there. We are not accustomed to these things and it is slow going for us. Perhaps a bit of bread and drink and we will be on our way. It is very late now. And you should rest some and recover from your trials..." <><><><><> <> "Rome?" The woman's eyes widen further. "Why would you be going to Rome?" She shakes her head suddenly and gestures at her servant. "Blais, bring bread and wine for our guests!" She turns back to you. "But you must stay the night here, it is the least I can offer. Surely you won't be taking a ship to Rome until tomorrow in any case?" <><><><><> He glanced to Scathach. He wasn't quite sure of the woman's plans or intentions at this hour, but it was much too late to try and get into the old man's house. Dawn would come soon enough, and once the bodies were discovered by the night guard, there would be more difficulty in remaining concealed. So it seemed that tonight was a lost enterprise in any event. "Lady, You are kind and generous.... and if we had the money to sail, then we would do so tomorrow. As I said, we are about trying to find a way to earn some money. Roman coin is not easy to come by when you come from far distant lands like the pair of us." "As for why? Well, it is very complicated, but I can tell you that something that is valued by my people was stolen by a Roman military man and he is headed for Rome with it. It is my duty to try and return it." <><><><><> <> "A Legionnaire stole something that belongs to your people?" She seems fascinated. The servant, Blais, returns with two loaves of day-old bread, and some Roman wine, and sullenly cuts it while she continues "Will you tell me the story? It sounds fascinating and I've never spoken to barbarians before. Real barbarians, I mean, there are some Keltoi who live here in Masilia, but they're practically Romans except for their names..." She pauses and says "Oh, but please forgive me! I haven't told you my name!" She smiles at you...a coy smile with a lingering draw of her eyes. "I am Alvita Numitoria." <><><><><> He glanced at Scathach. It was hard to pass up the opportunity to tell a story. He had a willing audience and the time. Since the Celts had agreed to remain for the evening and had taken of the food that was being offered, it was customary to repay that hospitality. Yes, they had saved the woman's life and the lodging and food was payment of a sort for that gesture, but somehow it was always more complicated than that to Celt's. Everything was a cycle. Their lives were intertwined at the present and hospitality worked both ways. He smiled and nodded as if he would like nothing better than to tell her a story. Speaking in Latin would make his tale choppy, but he hoped the eagerness of his audience would make up for his weakness in the language. He spoke slowly and carefully trying to offer the all important rhythm and cadence as best he could manage in the complicated tongue. "Barbarians... Such an odd sounding word, not even Latin... We are Celts, and we don't consider ourselves to be barbarians... But I can see your point... we're different. We also have different Gods. I know very little of the Gods that favor and protect the Romans. Little more than a few tales but enough to know that your Gods are greatly different than ours. To the Celts our Gods are the land and the sky and there are great ancestors, ages long since gone.... who were not really like us... They came to our lands because the Earth Mother guided them. She was their mother... Our mother... WE weren't always called Celts... It was a name given to us.... It probably means Barbarian, but it was a name that stuck. We came to those islands to the west and north of here just as others long before us were guided. It was destiny. We came to the lands and learned from those elders and there were wars, but finally our peoples were shown to be the most favored. The elders gave up their mortal lives and became part of the Gods. We inherited the land and all the wonder and wisdom left by the Tuatha. Of that, there were some magical things... The Lia Fail... The Stone of Destiny... a large rock, was blessed by the earth mother and it was kept at a place revered by those elders as the heartland city of their race. It wasn't a city like this, no much smaller... different... but it was their capital. The Stone was a symbol of freedom and invincibility to the elders, the Tuath... The High Kings were crowned there, and it was the Stone that would decree who that King should be.... It is said to sing out when the rightful king stands upon it. It's magical... It's powerful, and mystical... from a time and a people long since gone... We, the Celts, inherited that, and the responsibility that comes with it. It was stolen. Not an easy task. This Legionaire commanded men, good soldiers they were, who defeated the guards of Tara where the Stone belongs... And stole the Stone away to take to Rome.... perhaps as a trophy for your Emperor... this Nero... I do not know... I have been quested by the holy men of my peoples... the Druids whose wisdom and sight exceeds understanding and comprehension... And I am forever honor bound to pursue this quest. I may not suceed... But I will die trying if mustr needs be... The fate of my people, and the future of my lands is with me.... That weight is a great burden, and I am a simple man, but the quest was given to me... I can not look aside nor step down... To Rome I must go." <><><><><> <> "An epic quest!" Alvita breathes, when you're finished. She's been leaning close as you tell your tale, and even touches your wrist. "But if this....stone, has been taken to the Emperor, do you think you will be able to steal it back, as it was stolen from your High King's palace?" She glances at Scathach and says "Are all barbar-- err, Keltoi women warriors like your wife?" <><><><><> "I don't know what I will be able to do.... I don't know what I will face... I've never been to Rome." He smiles warmly and holds her gaze whenever possible. The woman was acting interested in him and Ciaran guessed that she was testing the waters. She travelled at night, risking rogues of all sorts and dared sit in the company of barbarians. She liked danger, and tried to put that element into her life whenever she could. The restrictions of her gender and position in society made things difficult but she still seemed likely to to take chances whenever they presented themselves. When she spoke to Scathach, Ciaran chuckled softly. He wasn't quite sure how the Gallic Celt woman would respond. She was abrasive at the best of times. "We're not married," he whispered trying to cut off Scathach from chastising the woman. "We're... friends... We travel together from time to time...." <><><><><> <> "I see," Alvita murmurs. "And does your.... friend get jealous?" "She's married, you know," Scathach says in Celtic, sipping some of the Roman wine and grimacing. "That's a married woman's name she gave you. Probably was out cuckolding her husband when we found her. Romans don't take kindly to such things." The Celtic woman looks more bemused than anything else, but Alvita cocks her head, trying to figure out what you're talking about. <><><><><> "Maybe so," he said in the same language. He too was suddenly amused by the whole thing. The woman was making her interest known. "But I'll not tell her that." He looked back at Alvita and smiled. "No, she's not jealous... We're friends... We travel together... She's reminding me that we can't be staying too very late this next day. We must find a means to pay our passage to Rome. Time is an enemy in this quest." He paused slightly and shifted. "Lady Alvita," he asked, meeting her gaze with his own curious expression. "When you spoke your name... You gave a married woman's name... Where is your mate, and would he not be alarmed to hear of your harrowing experience this night?" "More importantly... How would he feel to know there were two Celts... Barbarians taking rest inside his home?" <><><><><> <> Alvita flushes a little and looks down, but more to hide a small smile than embarrassment. "My husband is on a trip to Sardinia... he travels frequently, and leaves me alone for weeks or months at a time. I become very bored, and lonely." She looks back up at you. "Roman women don't get to travel about and be as adventurous as your companion." "Sounds like she's pretty adventurous to me," Scathach mutters, still in Celtic. <><><><><> Ciaran chuckled at the woman's comment about adventure and when Scathach spoke he nodded to her with an arched eyebrow. "And tonight... in the street... That wasn't enough adventure for you? You damn near got killed, or worse... That would make anyone's pulse quicken a bit. Don't you agree?" <><><><><> <> "That wasn't exactly the kind of adventure I was looking for," she replies. "However, I survived-- thanks to you." She smiles and rises gracefully. "But, it is time to retire for the night, I believe. Blais will see to your bedding... if you prefer the main room, that is." She looks over her shoulder at you, before walking off to her own chambers. Scathach is studying the bottom of her cup. "I'm not saying a word!" she declares. <><><><><> He watched the woman leave. His eyes tracing her figure beneath the flowing veluminous robes. He had never bedded a Roman woman before and the thought was strongly in the fore of his mind. He tried to imagine her without the clothing as she slipped out of sight and down the hall. Her last glance in his direction gave him a slight chill. He smiled and winked. Then came Scathach's rebuke at his antics... and Alvita's. "Woman... Ye make fine points and yer probably right," he said in Celtic. "She's trouble... I agree. But so are you," he said with a chuckle at his little joke. "We'll be out of here tomorrow and back about the business of getting to Rome." After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, perhaps five whole minutes, he rose from the bench and straightened his well worn tunic and unclasped his cloak. Picking up sword, he made his way in the direction that Alvita had gone. He stopped at the threshold, he hefted the weapon a bit. "I'm takin' this just in case...." He followed the route Alvita had taken. <><><><><> <> Alvita is waiting in her bedroom, reclining on a soft mattress unlike anything the Celts sleep on. She looks at your sword. "Surely you don't think you're going to need that?" she asks with a coy smile. "Do Keltoi always take swords to bed with them?" <><><><><> He glances at the sword and then fixes a stare on Alvita. "I don't like to be far from it... I've been told Romans don't take kindly to men visiting their wive's bedchambers... especially foreign men." He approached her where she lie, unclasping his cloak to feel it slide off his shoulders to the floor. "But you are far too pretty and far too alluring, and if your husband had any sense, he would not stray far... Let's just say that the sword is for protection... I'd hate to have him come to his senses before I've left you." He layed the sword at the side of the couch. Ciaran leaned forward, over her to do this. Carefully and slowly he set it down. Pacing his movements with his breathing, never taking his eyes off of her. He could smell her perfume and he let her know that he was smelling it. He stood tall again and undid the belt at his waist......... <><><><><> <> Alvita laughs. "My husband is far away, Ciaran. He'll not be back tonight." She looks at your sword curiously, but far more so at you. And eagerly learns everything she can about barbarian men.... Which would be so much more enjoyable if you could put out of your mind the image of Scathach snickering to herself in the next room. <><><><><> Try as he might, he could not distance himself from Scathach's reproving stare in his mind's eye. Damnable woman. He tried to think on other things, especially laying with this woman. She was a fine creature and it was easy to spend time with her. He didn't have to approve of her customs or her culture, to enjoy the passion she offered. Hopefully she would not notice his distractions in her eagerness to make love to a Barbarian. He certainly wouldn't skimp on his attention in the physical aspect of things. The morning would come too quickly, and he and Scathach would have to set out again to scout for coin. And, ultimately, it was a night's reprieve from having to thieve for a way to reach Rome. <><><><><> <> Alvita wakes up the next morning as you are buckling your sword belt back on. She sits up and smiles. "You really must leave today then?" she asks. "You would be welcome to stay longer. Surely a few more days won't matter that much?" <><><><><> "I must," he replies. "The Stone must be returned, and as much as I want to spend more time with you Alvita, I know I can not. Achilleus will not delay in his plans and so I must not either. My people need that Stone. It belongs in Eriu. It is my Quest... My Geas. Return the Stone or die trying." He cinched the belt around his waist tightly and moved to where she reclined. He kissed her and whispered in his slow accented latin. "I don't know how I will get to Rome, but every day I lose to delays, no matter how pleasurable they are," he said with a caress of her face, "Means it will be just that much harder to suceed." "You are too great a temptation to me and I would have you know that it takes considerable will for me to leave this place, but I hope you understand that I must go. I am bound by my honor and the Geas to continue. Today I must search for a means to make some Roman coin to pay for my passage, and I will think of you. Of all things Roman that I have encountered during my travels... You are the first good and wondrous thing I have seen and touched." "Bid me safe journey but not farewell, for I must return this way if I survive. And should that happen, then I will make it certain to find you here... Mark my words Alvita." <><><><><> <> "Safe journey, then," Alvita says, kissing you back. After you dress, she has the servants bring breakfast to you and Scathach, and then joins you. "I don't know what barbarian customs are concerning gifts," she says, now using the Roman label almost fondly, though Scathach wrinkles her nose. "But you said you needed coins to pay for your passage to Rome." She withdraws a small pouch, whose contents jingle. "If you will allow me to think of it as a gift that will hasten your return...." She smiles at you. <><><><><> He stopped eating when she offered the coin. His eyes became fixed on the dangling purse. They needed the money. But was this the right thing to do, as if she were paying him for their time together... And if she were, was this not more acceptable a means to make coin than to steal it from some old man whose estates were easy prey too brigands. He wasn't a brigand. *A gift?* *... or payment?* It would dishonor her not to take it or to deny it because of some reason he perceived. She might mean it as an offering, or gift just as she stated. Alvita was many things, and direct and honest were on the list. His own feelings notwithstanding, the money was needed and it was offered. To turn it down because of his ego would be arrogance of the highest form. He swallowed and forced a smile as he looked to her. Scathach would not let him live this down. He spared her a sideways glance and narrowed his gaze, trying to measure her reaction. "You needn't do this Alvita," he said softly. "But I know you know that already. A gift you say, then so be it. My people exchange gifts and barter for things back and forth. I can accept your gift, and upon my return I shall bring a gift with me for you... That is the way of my people." He rose from the bench in the kitchen commons to stand over her. He accepted the pouch and clasped her small hand within his. Drawing them up to his lips, he kissed her fingers slightly. "Thankyou, I will not forget this kindness... Your gift will speed my journey, and I shall be want to hasten my return." <><><><><> <> "Gods speed you on, then," Alvita says. "Your gods or mine." And soon you are back outside, on the street, walking to the docks with your new wealth. "Now why didn't I think of that?" Scathach says suddenly. You'd been walking side by side, silently, with you knowing it was coming. "Here I'm trying to find places to rob, or contemplating banditry on the road, or seeking employment at some menial labor for a day..... but bedding a wealthy, lonely Roman woman, that I never thought of. Do you think you can find another one in Rome, for our trip back?" She has a perfectly straight face. You never thought you'd long for the days when Scathach just impaled you with spears.... <><><><><> He stopped in his tracks and watched her take the next step or two. He narrowed his eyes to slits and spoke through clenched teeth. He wasn't foolish enough to reach for a weapon, but the desire was there. Maybe she was dead serious and it really wasn't a barb. But with Scathach, he couldn't tell. He wanted to say a great deal, but he knew it would only make matters worse. He was in a far foreign city and the last thing he needed was discension between them. But he still had to say his piece. "Do ye thin' ye could be any crueler with yer words, woman... I dinna' whore fer Roman coin, not last night and I'll not whore in Rome neither. I bedded her because I wanted to, she gave me coin because she wanted to... Enough said, let's go get a ship and get to Rome." <><><><><> <> Scathach raises an eyebrow, but doesn't quite conceal a grin as she turns away. You have only a vague idea of the worth of Alvita's gift. There are ten gold coins in the purse, which Scathach says are called aureii. "More than enough for a two-way trip for both of us," she says. The Roman merchant who has a ship going to Rome demands two aureii for each of you. Scathach nods her head incrementally-- you've both learned it works better when dealing with Romans for you to do the speaking. Once on deck, she says "He's a bandit, exploiting a pair of barbarians. But no matter. The other six can buy us some friends in Rome." <><><><><> Ciaran did do the speaking for them. This journey and the many years they had spent together had taught him to read her as if she spoke a silent language. As if they shared a level of communication in nods ans facial expressions. Through them, her guidance and experience would enable him to deal with the Romans as if he knew what he was doing. "If'n he thinks to cheat us further, he may find himself feedin' the fishes," Ciaran commented dryly as he watched the crew begin their assigned tasks. After a few moments he turned to her. "Friends bought with coin aren't really friends. What kind of friends do you mean?" Then he understood, or at least he thought he did. "Information... Aye we need to find people who can tell us what they've seen or heard and where to look. Aye....." <><><><><> <> "You can't get anywhere in Rome without friends, and most Roman friends are bought. Aye, we buy information, and help. 'Patronage' they call it, or else simply 'bribery'." She shakes her head and looks out to sea. "I haven't been to Rome in over two centuries, but I'm betting it won't have changed much." The trip along the Italian coast takes four days, with the merchant making frequent stops at ports along the way. On noon of the fourth day, you see a city approaching on the shore, and are thinking that it doesn't look all that large, no larger than Masilia. Scathach tells you, "That's Ostia. It's the entry way to the Tiber River...Rome is up the river a ways." <><><><><> *Ostia,* he mumbled to himself as he stared at the port city looming before them. *Tiber.* Glancing at his companion, he widened his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Much bigger isn't it," he asked. Of course he knew it would be, but still he lacked comprehension. Masilia was the largest gathering of peoples he had ever seen. Londinium was nothing compared to Masilia and now this Ostia place. Inland, up the river a short ways.... Rome. These names were all foreign and exotic sounding. Foreboding and darkly menacing for a man who lived in a small village all his life. And the nearest thing to city life for him was living in the court of Prasutagus. Masilia had been bewildering to him. Too many things happening. Too many people. He couldn't keep an eye on all of them, no matter how he tried. People talked quickly. And the languages were varied in dialect and sounds. Mostly Latin, but faster than he could follow. Only when he focused and concentrated could he pick out any conversations. It was all too big and too fast. Things were too close. It smelled too. He felt closed in, trapped, and very much alone. Rome would be far worse. More of eveything. More people, bigger, and more densly congested. And... More beautiful, but in a sickly, intoxicating way. Like he was an ant drawn to the smells of poisoned food. Ciaran stared at the port city as they approached. And he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. <><><><><> <> Others take boats up the river to Rome. You and Scathach walk-- Scathach says that the gold aureii can be exchanged for more coins of smaller value, but until you can do that, you'd have to pay a whole coin for a boatride. And it's only about a day's hike, at Scathach's pace. The Romans have built roads in Britain-- many, and they speed travel considerably. They are very proud of their paved roads, the work of many legionaires, and in Britain, the work of tribesmen employed to dig paths through the countryside and then lay bricks in them. They even say that "all roads lead to Rome", even though everyone knows their roads can't possibly lead from Britain to Rome. But close to the imperial city itself, the roads are well-paved, with hardly a brick out of place, and there are legionaire garrisons every few miles. Scathach grunts, and wonders what they're so paranoid about; it's been ages since Rome was in serious danger of invasion. You pass traders, soldiers, mounted cavalrymen and marching legionaires, peasants, and wealthy Roman nobles in carts surrounded by bodyguards. And towards nightfall, you crest a hill, and look upon the City itself. Built across seven hills, covering more land than some Kings own back at home, with a wall surrounding it, and haze from thousands upon thousands of cookfires rising from it, Roma spreads before you, waiting for the entry of two more barbarians, like a vast alien monster that could swallow a thousand tribes and never notice. <><><><><> He stops and stares. He takes several long and deep breaths as he tries to take in the whole of the scene. It was far larger than he could have imagined. Structures of immense size. Bigger than monster temple that was being built in Camulodunum in Prydain. Ciaran couldn't fathom what all the huge buildings were for. Some were just too gaudy for functional use and others made no sense to him. He looked across the city. And witha sweeping gesture of his hand he spoke. "Sweet Danu.... How in all this will we ever find him?" <><><><><> <> "The Quickening," Scathach says. "There will probably be several immortals in Rome, at least. More than likely, we'll run into one of them sooner or later, and more than likely, one of the immortals in Rome will know of Achilleus...especially if that Roman immortal we met back on the road did. The trick will be finding an immortal who is willing to talk to us." "And Achilleus is a glory-hound. If you're a Roman, desiring power and fame, where do you suppose you want to be?" <><><><><> The very thought of a chance meeting with one or more Roman Immortals does not sit well in Ciaran's mind. He shales his head as he looks out across the city. "Wherever there is power... people of power and influence... The leaders or Chieftains.... perhaps in the Court of this effeminate Nero king. Or maybe among his guards... wherever one might find those things, then one might find Achilleus. But I dinna' know much about Rome and so I dinna' know where to find these things." He took a deep breath and shrugged. With a last adjustment to his pack he set out for the city gates.