Blood Slakes The Sand At The Circus Maximus – Bal-sagoth – letras

[Thoughts of an Iceni gladiator, awaiting the opening of the arena portcullis:][Memories of rebellion (Carnage at Camulodunum):][Iceni Messenger:] Hearken! The Ninth Legion has been put to the sword! Thewar-Chief of Queen Boudicca: Onwards to Camulodunum… wet your swords!Redden the earth with Roman blood!I remember the carnage at Camulodunum…The glorious clash of Celtic sword against Roman gladius,The pride in the eyes of our war-queenAs we hacked down the Imperial Eagle,And the severed heads of centurions gaping atop our spears.[Bloodshed and Battle: 61 AD (C.E.)]They had gone too far, these invaders from the east, with their imperial eaglewhich they dared to drive into our sacred soil… pompously claiming ourisland as their own. They who marched across the world expanding their empireall for the greater glory of their succession of debauched emperors, recliningupon their ivory thrones in the heart of sweltering Rome. Aye, they had gonetoo far… After their brutal annexation of our sovereign Iceni lands and thevile rape of our Queen Boudicca’s royal daughters, the Romans had the sown thefields of carnage and they would reap a grim harvest of slaughter, withoutdoubt! They had enraged the Red Queen, and by the gods, they would pay!We certainly taught the arrogant invading dogs a lesson, at any rate. Theomens and portents spoke of vast bloodshed and great carnage, and after ourslaughterous victories at Camulodunum (the Temple of Claudius burnedwonderfully!), Londinium and Verulanium, the cursed Romans finally dared tomeet us honourably upon the field of war at Mandeussedum. They sent fifteenthousand legionaires, their armour gleaming like gold in the sun… but itwould still yield to our swords and spears, no matter how it sparkled.The Roman scoundrel, Governor Suetonius Paullinus, battle-scarred from hiscampaigns against the Druids, was able to choose the ground upon which to makehis stand, and so it was that he selected as the battlefield a narrow valley,fronted by a flat plain, with dense woodland at its rear. Aye… Mandeussedum, »the place of the chariots »… I remember it vividly.The Governor’s army looked unnerved as wee took the field. I’ll never forgetthat, iron Roman fortitude or not! We were one hundred thousand strong,infantry and cavalry, both men and women warriors, as is our Celtic custom, inthe ranks together, all annointed with woad, all roaring oaths and vows to ourancient gods, who were surely grimly watching the epic confrontation fromtheir great thrones and vast halls. Our war-chariots thundered up and down theRoman front, the charioteers screaming abuse at the grim legionaires,decurions and centurions, and hurling spears and other missiles whichclattered against the Imperial shield wall. And not one Roman javelin or pilumwas hurled in response, not one arrow was loosed in retaliation. They weredisciplined, I’ll give them that. We were swelled by our victories, empoweredby our noble cause, enraged with the battle frenzy; thirsting to take as manyRoman heads as our bright blades could sever!And yet we were perhaps somewhat overconfident that day…[Abducted from the Iceni:]In the aftermath of our defeat at Mandeussedum, I was captured by Romans witha veiled intent… (though three of them died at my hands in the attempt!)Nero was growing bored with the gladiators, slaves and lion-fodder at hisgreat Circus, and so had requested Suetonius Paullinus to provide the citizensof Rome with new entertainment… The Emperor had heard much of the wildnessand fighting spirit of these barbaric Britons who had brought such woe to hisfar-famed legions; these painted, pagan tribesmen who had resisted theEmpire’s iron fist where the glorious phalanxes of the East had not. »Agents of the Imperium… hearken to my words », Nero had demanded. « Bring toRome some of these tribesman for the Games. Let us pit them against our mostravenous beasts and our greatest gladitorial champions. »And so I was taken in fetters aboard a Roman trireme, the blood of slainlegionaires still crusted upon my thews, I was taken far from the fens of mybeloved homeland, to tread the sun baked sand of the Circus Maximus… tofight for my life in the Imperial Arena.[Arrival at the Circus Maximus:]The Circus Maximus was certainly a splendid sight, I’ll admit. A vastcolosseum with great stone columns and tiers, huge ornate arches and mightystatues of grey marble. Countless people filled the seats surrounding thesandy floor of the Arena… and in his opulent royal enclosure, flanked bygleaming guards and grovelling lackeys, sat the great Emperor himself…[Emperor Nero:] Fight, barbarian outlander! Please us, and mayhap Mars willsmile on thee this day![Iceni warrior:] Bah! I do not hail to your Roman gods, and you are not myemperor! By Cernunnos, the blood of my enemies shall stain the sand of thiscursed arena red this day![The Combat Commences:]They unleashed the lions first. Hunger maddened beasts, goaded into a frenzyby the cruel point of many a pilum… And yet my own hunger, the hunger forrevenge, was greater, and my honed steel was sharper than bestial fang andclaw. And so they ranged their finest warriors against me. Three more irongates around the arena yawned open, and they strode from the colosseum tunnelsamidst a cacophony of cheering from the assembled Roman spectators, urged onand showered with martial adulation from the massed arena crowd, who howledtheir bloodlust without cessation.I studied my opponents… there were two trained gladiators, champions I wastold, who had never met defeat in the Games… and then there was another likeme, a captured warrior forced to fight for his life. This one was a toweringreaver from the Northlands with a bright yellow beard, hefting a crude axewith a single iron head. I lifted my iron bladed Celtic shortsword with itsbronze hilt (the same sword which, mere days before, had been slaked withRoman blood… and its blade would soon be red once more with the blood of mycaptors, by all the gods!) and nodded to the reaver. An understanding passedbetween us… we knew we were here simply as sword-fodder, and we knew wewould both fight these Roman dogs to the death!The first gladiator moved towards me; he was a giant of a man, standing nearlyseven feet tall and clad in dark leather and bronze armour from head to toe.His full-face visored helmet was set with ornate metal fittings and encrustedwith jewels of various hues, and a vast black horse hair plume rose from themetal crown. Strapped on to his forearms were two black vambraces, to each ofwhich had been secured twelwe inch serrated blades, and they gleamed brightlyin the hot afternoon sunlight. He began to circle me slowly, his eyes hiddenbeneath his great helmet. To his left, I saw the second gladiator begin toclose on the Northman. The yellow-bearded axeman’s opponent was a hugesteel-helmeted Nubian, wielding a wickedly pointed trident and carrying anembossed iron buckler with a great spike jutting from its polished centre.Far above, upon his great dias, the Emperor gave the signal for the combat tobegin, and with the battle-lust engulfing me, with the red mist swirlingbefore my eyes, I vowed to my northern gods that I would show these leeringRomans the fighting spirit and battle prowess of my people… I would leavethe arena littered with the bloody corpses of my opponents…I would cast off the imperial fetters and return to the fens! Aye, I wouldescape, and make all Romans fear my name, and compel Nero to rue the dayJulius Caesar had first ordered his legions across the grim grey sea to myancient island… BLOOD FOR BOUDICCA… CARNAGE FOR CERNUNNOS!!To be continued…