In a month or so,after my business here is concluded.But be warned, lion cub,you will not be dealing with eighth-generation car- thaginians in Britain. The men there are the fiercest warriors I have ever encountered, and the women.... He smiled. "They are not Roman matrons, I can assure you.They will take a cudgel to you as quickly as any of their men will. Can you deal with people who paint their face blue and sacrifice to trees and in summ- er go naked into battle? "If it is my duty, I must, Claudius said simply. Scipio nodded. It was the correct answer. "Very well, "the general said."I will send your orders to your house within the next few days. Be prepared for a stay there of at least ten months''. Claudius rose to go. As the door closed behind him Mark Anthony said to octavian, "Are you sure he is the man for this job? He just got back from spain."He has the most experience dealings with colonial uprising, Octavian replied. "He has no experience dealing with the Celts. The general here seems to feel that they are a special case.''Scipio sighed heavily and began to rewind the scroll he had been reading."Leonatus is as well suited as anyone to handle this mission.There is no way to pre- pare any man in advance for Britain, and he is intelligent and adaptable. In any case, there is no one else. Marcellinus is still in North Africa and lucullus will be in Macedonia untill the ides of march. I need someone right now, someone I can work with, and Claudius Leonatus is the logical choice. His stewards will have to look after his estate farms and his vineyards in the north of Italy, I have more important things for him to do.''Antony glanced at octavian, then fell silent. On the subject of Britain, Scipio was the last word, and even the great caesar's lieutenant did not feel qualified to dispute him. "Where is the roster of the tenth legion.? Scipio asked impatiently. "With your permission, I will decimate it and the eleventh for the new British task force.''Mark Anthony nodded and handed him the scroll, while octavian looked on, his expression thoughtful.Bronwen, princess of the Iceni, lifted the kettle from its hook above the fire and poured rabbit stew into a wooden bowl. The skin of coinins which had gone into the mixture were nailed to the wooden cross piece above the clay hearth, drying in the smoke which escaped through a circular opening in the thatched roof.She went to the door of the stone and timber round house and looked across the clearing for her father, but she didn't see him. She left the stew to cool and went outside, slinging the pole with her water jugs across her shoulder and enjoying the late summer sunshine.
The dwelling she had just left was by far the most elaborate in the tribal village, what Caeser in his commentaries had called an oppidum, or little town. Bronwen was the king's daughter, and so shared his special residence, with its double thatched roof, handcrafted furniture, and second - floor sleeping rooms reached by a ladder. The large open space just under the roof was used to store preserved and dried food, and wattle secured with mud daub formed the floor of the upper level as well as the surprisingly secure outer walls.In back of the house a storage pit boasted a larder of wheat, beans nuts, and fruit which bespoke the family's special status. Bronwen's father also had the largest garden patch and a stable, where she and the men kept their horses, as well as his own herd of cattle. She had always enjoyed these special privilege