Chapter Eleven
Kailen’s grey eyes tracked Aurelia and Bran as they left the orange glow of the campfire, disappearing into the safety of the night’s darkness. Safely away from the lascivious gaze of the War Party leader, Aiden.
Kailen had never liked the Venicones tribe. They buried their dead in stone lined burials instead of allowing them to return to the earth like the Druids preached. The Venicone’s Holy Men, a secular Druid faction which was ostracised by Kailen’s own tribe’s Holy men, were deep into archaic mysticism and what human sacrifices to the Gods could get for their own needs. Their belief system and dealings with other tribes was often strained and dishonest. Anyone dealing with them had to sleep with one eye open when a Venicone was about.
Kailen couldn’t have turned the war party away. It was customary for his people to give shelter and supplies to others on the road. To not do so was the height of rudeness and could lead to the breakout of a very nasty fight, not to mention a feud that will drag both tribes into it. It was the last thing the Silures needed on top of everything else.
He had a feeling he was going to regret this whole night come morning.
Kailen turned to face Aiden head on, so there could be no misunderstanding between them. “I’m going to say this once and only once as I don’t like repeating myself to the ignorant.”
“Am I the ignorant in this scenario?” Aiden said lightly, throwing back the rest of his drink down his throat, the liquid spilling down the sides to collect at his chin.
“Either that or you are just plain stupid. But I’m going to give you the benefit of doubt and go with ignorant at the very least. You and your men asked me and mine for hospitality and I freely gave it. You are welcome to the food, to the drink and to the fire.”
Kailen’s eyes narrowed and his voice dipped lower. “But that offer does not extend to our war spoils. You have asked for her to be your own and I have refused you. My word is the end of the matter. You so much as look at her in a manner that displeases me and I will rescind my offer of hospitality. If you talk to her, push yourself onto her or try to take her with you when I have made myself clear and I will tear your head off your shoulders and make an example of you to your men on what happens to people who cross the Silures. Do I make myself clear?”
It was impossible to tell what was going on behind those glittering eyes of the Venicone. He was like a serpent, serene expression on the outside but a slippery slithering motion on the inside that didn’t bode well for anyone that stood in his way.
Aiden leaned against the saddle bag against his back and stretched his legs out in front of him, the very picture of nonchalant ease. “Are you threatening me, Kailen?”
“It’s not a threat, Venicone. I’m simply stating a fact.” Kailen replied with the same nonchalance.
Aiden smiled thinly. “All of this over a woman. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
YOU ARE READING
War Prize (A Roman Britain story)
Historical FictionAurelia, a Noble Roman woman, had heard of the savage British tribes, their mystic Celtic ways, and the battles the Roman army was fighting against them on their shores. The battles her soon-to-be Husband, Quintus Acquilla, was fighting in the name...
