Remember Me (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

By Ancient Hills

Present-Day Ireland, 104 BCE
3rd Life
The farmer and the warrior
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"Use more force! Your blows are too weak!"

Trenaccatus stood in the middle of a large field, his arms crossed over his chest. In front of him, his nephews lunged at each with swords and shields, yelling and trying their best to knock the other off their feet.

"You can do better than that, Caliacas," Trenaccatus called, slowly circling the two as they sparred. His youngest nephew glanced at him, his split-second distraction giving his older brother the chance to kick his feet out from under him and press the tip of his sword against his throat.

Caliacas glared at his brother. "That is not fair," he argued, and Trenaccatus smirked.

"Do not get so easily distracted," he said, leaning over his nephew. "Now come, on your feet. Try again."

Caliacas groaned, pushing his brother's sword out of the way so he could sit up. "Can we not take a break?" he asked. "We have been sparring since it was dark, and the sun has now risen."

"But it is not yet high in the sky," Trenaccatus pointed out. "You will spar for a while longer. If you do not practice, you will not learn."

"Come, Caliacas," his brother, Vendubaras, said. "The quicker you are on your feet the sooner our rest will be."

Caliacas scowled, but still stood, readjusting his sword in his hand. "Then let's do what we must," he said with a slight sigh.

Vendubaras grinned, waiting for his brother to prepare himself before charging with his sword held high. Caliacas easily blocked his blow with his shield, and the two continued swinging and attacking each other while their uncle watched, attentive of their every move.

He had been training them since they had come to live with him two years ago, when Vendubaras was sixteen and Caliacas was only thirteen. They had received some training from their father, but Trenaccatus was much sterner and stricter than he had been - he had his nephews practice nearly every day for several hours, carefully watching them himself to ensure that they made no mistakes. While they often complained about it, the relentless training had drastically improved their skills, and they only improved more with each day.

After another hour of sparring, Trenaccatus finally allowed them to stop, and they returned to the village, only a short walk from the field where they often trained. It was a large village, with nearly one hundred inhabitants living in many small, round huts. The entire area was surrounded by a large palisade, and the smoke from several fires could be seen rising into the sky from a great distance. The gate was open that morning, as people were out in the fields harvesting the fall crop and preparing it for storage and were often moving from the village to crop fields.

The streets were full of people as Trenaccatus lead his nephews through the village to their home. Many people sat outside their huts, socializing as they weaved or carved, despite the autumn cold. Several of them cried out in greeting to Trenaccatus as he passed, and he responded happily. He had lived in this village for his entire life and knew the names of each one of its inhabitants, just as everyone knew him.

They quickly reached their hut, situated in the middle of the village. It was one of the larger homes, as Trenaccatus's family was quite wealthy. It was the house that he had grown up in, and when his father had died, it had passed to him; he now lived in it with his mother, brother, sister-in-law, and five nieces and nephews. While his brother and sister-in-law had three children, two girls and a boy, Vendubaras and Caliacas were the sons of his younger sister, who lived in another village.