In Britannia Salutem

[Lindseyman]

Medraut

Marcus looked at his new Lord in some surprise. Medraut had assumed the Lordship of Eastern Flavia Caesarensis (or Cesrien as it was now more commonly being called) at Beltane and had up to now struck him as being a very level headed sort of young man. This had relieved Marcus as he had grown tired of being the Governor of this area after ten or more years and wanted a peaceful life from now on.

“Pardon, My Lord?”

Medraut smiled

“You heard me Marcus, I intend to bring Gaius Petronius of Lindum to heel. He has been trying to extend his area of authority ever since Marius retired. Several of the garrisons near Lindum pay more heed to him than to you or me and this cannot be allowed to continue!”

Medraut paused

“Even worse he and a select few have been raking in the taxes and siphoning off some of it for themselves and bumping up prices charged to our merchants.”

Medraut saw the look on Marcus’ face

“You knew all this didn’t you. Why didn’t you act? Are you also involved?”

Marcus swallowed his immediate response, Medraut didn’t know the game that was being played here.

“My Lord, I and my, now your, advisors indeed know what is going on here. However we need concrete evidence with which to bring Petronius down. We cannot just act on rumour and hearsay. That would make us no better than Vortigern. If you had examined the reports more carefully you would see that indeed we have taken steps.”

“What, building new roads to the back end of nowhere, surveys of the Trisantona? Oh!”

A light dawned behind Medraut’s eyes.

“To provide a more direct route to Lindsey and Deira which doesn’t pass through Lindum.”

Marcus nodded

“And to avoid having to swing round through Caer Ebrauc! The Romans used the Trisantona quite extensively as a cargo route, it is tidal a long way inland.”

“Doesn’t he know?”

“Of course he does! However what can he do about it? There haven’t been any raids on the east coast to disrupt us in recent years.”

Marcus smiled

“It became quite obvious to Marius and others that Petronius was out to line his own pockets. He kept it within reasonable bounds whilst Marius was in charge but once he was gone Petronius couldn’t help himself it seems. He is on the verge of overreaching himself as you noticed. He will either be sensible and rein himself in or do something stupid.”

Medraut frowned

“As long as the stupid doesn’t damage our stability.”

 

[Lindseyman]

Map of situation in 471 AD

 

[Cuchulainn]

Nice map, my compliments.
Please remind me, where are the Huns at this point ?

 

[Lindseyman]

The Huns, now ruled by Emak, are somewhat scattered. Emak's direct rule is limited to an area around OTL Moldova. They are no longer feared and will soon be absorbed in the next westward migration of peoples such as the Alans.

 

[Miguel Lanius]

Is the next migration what's spooking the Suetids?

So, this is what it looks like when your empire is dying.
Are Avitus and Aegidus going to fight it out? That would be stupid.
Still, they have North Africa, so not all looks lost... yet.

Is the next migration what's spooking the Suetids?

Sounds like things are about to get bad on Council Britannia, even as they are good.

 

[Lindseyman]

Historia Pryddonum

Nemnivus — was a Cambrian monk of the 9th century. He has traditionally been attributed with the authorship of the Historia Pryddonum, based on the prologue affixed to that work, This attribution is widely considered a secondary (10th century) tradition.

Nemnivus was a student of Elvodugus, commonly identified with the bishop Elfodd who convinced British ecclesiastics to accept the Continental dating for Easter, and who died in 809 according to the Annales Cambriae.

Nemnivus is believed to have lived in what is now Powys, Cambria. Thus, he lived outside the major Lordships, isolated by mountains in a rural society. Because of the lack of evidence concerning the life of Nemnivus he has become the subject of legend himself. Cambrian traditions include Nemnivus with Elbodug and others said to have escaped the massacre of Cambrian monks by the Ostanglian Ethelfrid in 613, fleeing to the north.

Nemnivus was traditionally credited with having written the Historia Pryddonum c. 830. The Historia Pryddonum was highly influential, becoming a major contributor to the Ambrosian legend. It also includes the legendary origins of the Picts, Scots, St. Germanus and Vortigern, and documents events associated with the Ostanglian invasion of the 6th century as contributed by a Deiran document.

Evidence suggests that this medieval literature was a compilation of several sources, some of which are named by Nemnivus while others are not. Some experts say that this was not the first compiled history of the Britons and that it was largely based on Gildas' Britannia salutem omnium conservationemque written some two centuries before. Scholarship indicates that other sources included a Life of St Germanaius and a number of royal pedigrees. Most other sources have not survived and therefore cannot be confirmed. The surviving manuscripts of the Historia Pryddonum appear to be redacted from several lost versions: information about Nemnivus contained in the Prologue and in the Apology differs, the Prologue containing an expanded form of the Apology that is only found in editions copied during the 12th century, leading experts to believe that later versions of the document were altered. The largest known edition contains seventy-six sections including the Prologue and the Apology. The work was translated into Irish by Giolla Coemgin in c. 1071 and is the earliest example of the original Historia Pryddonum, but includes the author’s name, Nemnivus.

Originally written as a history of the Britons in an attempt to re-document a legitimate past, the Historia Pryddonum contains stories of legend and superstition alike. The historical accuracy of the Historia Pryddonum is at times questionable, but the document is internally consistent and provides information from and indirectly about Nemnivus' sources. Some historians argue that the Historia Pryddonum gives good insight into the way 9th century Prydannians viewed themselves and their past. Nemnivus makes several attempts to trace the history of the Britons back to the Romans and Celts through his empirical observations of what he refers to as "The Marvels" or "Wonders of Prydannia". These include ruins, landmarks and other aspects of the countryside that Nemnivus deems worthy of documentation. His explanation of the physical landmarks and ruins take on a very mystical interpretation despite Nemnivus being a Christian monk. Within the writing of Nemnivus is a sense of nationalist pride attempting to legitimise the people of Prydannia and embellish the past through legend much as the Romans used the story of Romulus and Remus to legitimise the founding of Rome. One such example of Nemnivus stressing legend is in his accounts of Ambrose and his battles against the Ostangles. The Historia Pryddonum would come to be the basis on which later medieval authors would write their romantic histories.

The Prologue, in which Nemnivus introduces his purpose and means for writing the British History, first appears in a manuscript from the tenth century found in the palace of Caerluel. The prologues of all other manuscripts, though only included marginally, so closely resemble this first prologue that historians have claimed that they must be copies.

The fact that the Historia is accepted, albeit acknowledged as being biased, is because of other documents found over the years in places as far away as Roma, Luteche and even Estanbul (which in many cases predate the Historia) which contain the same stories especially about Ambrose.

 

[Lindseyman]

Polonius

Polonius sat nursing a cup of wine in a small tavern on the northern outskirts of Mediolanum. He had fled Roma as it was becoming too dangerous. There were now too many factions for him to effectively do anything with the spy network. Too many of his operatives now had conflicting allegiances and he had watched helplessly as the network that Anthimus had rescued and restored and Guitolinus had brought to a high level of efficiency collapsed into ruin. He was really a field agent not an administrator but it would have taken somebody of more than Guitolinus’ level of ability to keep control and, as Polonius admitted to himself, he did not!

The ruin into which the espionage network had fallen was just a reflection of what was happening generally. Avitus and Aegidius had tried manfully to restore order but they had foundered against the rich and powerful reverting to type once the fear that Majorian had instilled in them had faded. Avitus had been assassinated by one such landowner and Aegidius had fled back to northern Gaul, seemingly with the intention of building a realm which could look after itself much as that Council had done in Britannia.

There was no Emperor at the moment, or rather there were five that claimed the title and the conflicts between them were raging up and down Italia, further wrecking the infrastructure that had been so carefully restored. Polonius shook his head, perhaps all Majorian and Guitolinus had done was paper over the cracks and put in some temporary supports. Without them it was doomed to collapse.

The Empire’s only hope seemed to be either Severus coming over from Carthage and taking over, though why he should do that when he was safe and sound over there was beyond Polonius, or Leo coming west from Constantinople and that seemed less likely than the second coming!

Polonius became aware of somebody sitting opposite him. He came fully awake when he felt the dagger!

“No sudden moves” warned the man

“There is somebody that wants to meet you.”

“Whom am I to disagree with such a compulsive argument?” answered Polonius.

“Very well, come with me.”

The man led Polonius out of Mediolanum and into the countryside. After an hour or so they came to a small campsite. Polonius looked around his interest rising. Despite their appearance the men around the camp were comporting themselves like proper soldiers not the riff raff that tended to roam the countryside.

“Over there” prompted his captor.

Polonius went where he was directed and stood mute in shock. The man to whom he had been directed was Guitolinus!

“Hello, Polonius, what a pleasant surprise!”

“How did you find me?”

“Ah, I still have my ways” smiled Guitolinus.

He shook his head

“After I had heard about the chaos engulfing Italia and your flight I reckoned that you would head this way. After all you come from the area.”

Polonius just looked at him

“Na, it was pure luck. I spotted you on the road a day or so ago and had Crispus here follow you with orders to bring you to me. I need to know everything that has happened since you warned me to escape.”

Polonius promptly told Guitolinus everything that he knew of what had happened. Guitolinus shook his head in dismay.

“Unless something completely unexpected happens the Empire in the West is doomed. Oh Italia might stagger on a few more years calling itself the Empire. After all somebody will come out on top in this power struggle. However the Empire as a power is finished!”

Polonius nodded

“Severus or Leo might come and sort it out.”

“Na, Severus is safe in Carthage and Leo has enough problems in Constantinople to keep him occupied.”

“Sa, that Zeno for one! He has his eyes on the purple after getting rid of Aspar or I’m a Persian!”

Guitolinus nodded, stretched his legs and said

“I’m heading for Gaul and Aegidius. He and his son might pull something out of the mess.”

“I thought that you would head for Britannia.”

“Na, they don’t need me. Aegidius does. You coming? Your skills would be more than useful.”

“I don’t seem to have a better offer at this time! So, yes.”

 

[Lindseyman]

Viroconium

It was a rather subdued meeting that autumn in Viroconium. There had been two deaths of Lords during the year. The first, the suicide of Quintus, had been expected given his illness, the second that of Aelle after a bout of the coughing sickness had not been. However in both cases there had been a smooth transition of power. Marcus, the husband of Quintus’ granddaughter had acceded to the leadership of Eboracum, although all (including Marcus) knew that Flavius Aquila still ran the civilian administration and Flavius Aurelianus Lupidus ran the military side. Aelles lands had been formally divided into two Lordships, Lindsey was ruled by Ida, Aelle’s older son, and Deira by Ethelric, his younger son. Since they had both been effectively ruling those respective areas for the last ten years or so this produced little change.

There was also disquiet at the news coming from Gaul. Aegidius had fled Rome and Italia was now a battlefield between five pretenders to the purple (Avitus having been assassinated).

“Not one is more likely to succeed than any other at the moment, according to Aegidius” stated Artos “but Julianus Nepos, the nephew of Marcellinus is apparently the most able but has the least open support. We shall just have to wait and see who is the last man standing!”

Artos shook his head

“However the Burgundians under Gundioc and the Visigoths under Athalric, son of Remistus, are both busily expanding their areas of control towards Massilia in the case of the former and into Hispania for the latter. However both are staying well clear of Northern Gaul!”

The meeting passed onto other matters. Once again there had been no raids on either coast, apart from one particularly suicidal attempt by some Hibernians to raid Caer Segont.

However there was one fly in the ointment. Gaius Petronius the Lord of Lindum was been especially vocal about what was happening to the trade between Lindsey and the rest of the island. It had always passed through Lindum. However now it was bypassing Lindum and being shipped along the Trisantona and then along the Abus to a new port that Aelle had had built about twenty stadia to the north of Luth called Scharbeburg (after the seabirds found in great numbers in the area).

This caused much wry amusement amongst the Lords who pointed out that perhaps he should reduce his tolls.

“The Trisantona route is far more profitable for the merchants even given the longer time that it takes” noted Medraut.

“Perhaps you should take care about how much you actually need to charge rather than complaining.”

Gaius had been incensed

“Who are you to tell me how to run my area of authority, you young pup. You’re still suckling from your mother’s teat!”

For the first time, there had been the threat of bloodshed at a Council meeting. It was only averted by Gaius storming out of the meeting and departing very rapidly to Lindum threatening dire consequences.

“I’d watch out young man” warned Lucius.

“He’s desperate enough to do something stupid. You’ve cut off his source of easy money!”

Medraut nodded

“I agree, but hopefully he’ll come to his senses and it’s all been bluster.”

Lucius looked thoughtful

“I’m not too sure. Even Quintus had severe doubts about him and Quintus had the political sense of a rock!”

 

[Lindseyman]

Situation by end of 471 AD.
The WRE is on the point of collapse. Whoever wins in Italia should be able to hold on to Italia (However Theodomir and Aspar are thinking of coming to play!). Various Roman governors MIGHT be able to hold on to coastal cities in Hispania and southern Gallia. However it really looks like the game is up (or is it?).

 

[Lindseyman]

A Study in Betrayal

It was a cold midwinter day and Lucius, the Commander of the Venta garrison, was looking ruefully at the pile of reports that he was going to have to read and in some cases to which he would have to reply. Ianus, his long standing deputy usually handled all this but he was on leave arranging for his father’s funeral. So, with a shake of his head, Lucius started. After fifteen minutes or so his head was spinning. Just how did Ianus cope with all this officialise? However a report by one of the watchmen caught his eye. Luckily it was written by a man whose literacy was about the same as his so used very simple words! There had been a killing at a villa about 5 stadia away. The owner a retired member of Ambrosius’ army, one Gaius Lepidus, had been found dead in one of the anterooms. The only suspect was his wife Helena. However this watchman, a former soldier himself, had some suspicions that all was not as it seemed. His neighbours were perplexed. It seemed that Lepidus was more attached to his wife than she to him. They also stated that he sometimes had bouts of deep depression and moodiness for no apparent reason.

The report went on, one evening, Helena went out in the evening with maid, Flavia, on an errand connected with her church, and came back not long afterwards. She went into the seldom-used ante room and asked the Domus to fetch her some wine, which was unusual for Helena. Hearing that his wife had returned, Lepidus joined her in the room. The Domus saw him enter, and that was the last time that he was seen alive.

The blinds were up, and the door leading out onto the lawn was open. When a slave brought the wine, she heard an argument in progress between Helena and her husband, and she heard Helena say the name "David." The slave fetched the other maid and the Domus, who came and listened. Helena was very angry and shouting about what a coward her husband was; his words were softer and less distinct. Suddenly, Lepidus cried out, there was a crash, and Helena screamed.

Realizing that something awful had just happened, the Domus tried to force the locked door, but could not. He remembered the outside door, and went outside to get into the room through that. He found that Helena had fainted, and Lepidus was lying dead in a pool of his own blood. The Domus had contacted the garrison, and also found, to his surprise, that the key was not in the locked door on the inside. Later, a thorough search failed to turn it up. A peculiar club-like weapon was also found in the morning room. The staff did not recognize this weapon.

Lucius tossed the report aside and went looking for the watchman. He enquired in the barracks

“Oh, Emchfileth” replied the centurion on duty

“He always overthinks things. Mind you he’s nearly always been shown to be right. He’s off duty, you’ll probably find him in the Golden Amphora at this time.”

Lucius went to the Golden Amphora and found the watchman with a goblet of watered wine sitting in a corner. Lucius explained why he was there. The watchman was quite wary at first. He had stood on too many toes in his quest for the truth at times. However Lucius persuaded him that he was not in trouble but Lepidus was an important member of the community and that the death needed an explanation.

The watchman, whose name was Gulielmus, believed that the case was not what it at first appeared to be. Although the slaves are quite sure that they only heard Lepidus’ and his wife’s voices, Gulielmus is convinced that a third person came into the room at the time of Lepidus’ death and, rather oddly, made off with the key. Gulielmus had deduced this from footmarks found in the road, on the lawn, and in the room.

The next morning Lucius and Gulielmus go to the villa. Gulielmus is sure that Helena’s slave holds the key to the mystery, and he is right. She claims to know nothing of the reason for the argument between the two, but once told by Lucius that Helena could easily be held responsible, she feels that she can betray her promise to her and tells all. On their short outing, the two women met a bent, deformed man carrying a wooden box. He looked up at Helena and recognized her, and she also did him; they were acquaintances from about 30 years earlier. Helena asked the slave to walk on ahead as there was apparently a private matter to discuss with this man. She came back very angry, and made her slave swear not to say anything about the incident.

Lucius and Gulielmus realise that there cannot be many men of this description in the area, and soon identify him as Ceretic, a wandering tinker, and go to visit him the next day in his lodgings in the very same street where the two women met him. Ceretic explains all. He had been a Decurion with Lepidus, who himself was still a Decurion at that time, at the time of a Pictish incursion. Also at this time, he and Lepidus were rivals for Helena. Cretic was not deformed, and much better looking in those days. They had been cut off from Ambrosius’ army, and water had run out, among other problems. A volunteer was asked for, to go out and summon help, and it was Ceretic. Lepidus had instructed Ceretic on the safest route. However, it took him straight into an ambush, and he gathered from what little he knew of the local language, spoken by the attackers, that Lepidus had betrayed him to the Picts by planning the whole business, driven by one motive - to remove Ceretic from contending for Helena's affection. Ceretic was tortured repeatedly, which is how he became deformed, spent years as a slave or wandering and when he was getting old, he longed to come back to Venta.

Then, quite by chance, he met Helena that evening. Unknown to her, however, he followed her home and witnessed the argument, for the blinds were up and the door open. He climbed over the low wall and entered the room. An apoplectic fit caused by the sight of him killed Lepidus instantly, and Helena fainted. His guilty secret was at last laid bare. His first thought then was to open the inside door and summon help, and he took the key from the now-unconscious Helena to do so, but realizing that the situation looked very bad for him and that he himself could be charged with murder, he chose instead to flee. However, he did drop his stick, the odd weapon that was later found, and he inadvertently carried the key off with him.

Lucius ponders for a few minutes and informs Ceretic that the matter will not be pursued any further, there was nothing to be gained from doing so as he suspected that Ceretic did not have long to live. Ceretic agrees, his bad health had caught up with him and a local doctor had told him that he had weeks at best.

On their way back to the garrison Gulielmus asks Lucius why he had let Ceretic go. After all he could have made it all up.

“You saw him, Gulielmus, he was not strong enough to kill Lepidus even if he had caught him by surprise.”

Gulielmus nods.

“Anyway” continues Lucius “it was Helena calling Lepidus David which gives Ceretic’s story the ring of truth.”

Gulielmus pauses and then nods again

“Bathsheba!”

“Sa” replies Lucius.

NOTE: This is a slightly altered version of a Sherlock Holmes story. I wanted to show a side of life in Britannia that would have existed much as it did in Doyle’s day OTL. I’ll leave you to work out why the watchman is called Gulielmus.

 

[AJNolte]

This has my interest.

 

[Lindseyman]

This has my interest.

In what way, may I ask?
Also, everybody, all comments are always welcome (very unsubtle hint). This timeline is beginning to grow in directions I hadn't originally envisaged (i.e. guess who doesn't know what he's going to write until he sits down and writes it).

 

[AJNolte]

In what way, may I ask?
Also, everybody, all comments are always welcome (very unsubtle hint). This timeline is beginning to grow in directions I hadn't originally envisaged (i.e. guess who doesn't know what he's going to write until he sits down and writes it).

Well, the time period's of interest, and the writing style's very good.

I'm also somewhat curious about the potential differences for Ireland moving forward. If the conversion of Ireland proceeds apace--and, really, no reason it shouldn't--what impact will a more Celtic and, I expect, more thoroughly Christian Britain have on the new Irish church? But that's still well in the future.

 

[A. Morgan]

In what way, may I ask?
Also, everybody, all comments are always welcome (very unsubtle hint). This timeline is beginning to grow in directions I hadn't originally envisaged (i.e. guess who doesn't know what he's going to write until he sits down and writes it).

Wow, you do? Goodness, this story has a remarkable flow and sense of continuity, all the characters leave a vivid picture in the mind and there is a strong connection to time and place. All the best authors say they have no idea what is going to happen in a story and leave the characters to inform the writer what is to occur. I’m way to rigid (anal) to do that which is why I could never write something as beautiful as this is. Please Sir, may we have more?

 

[Lindseyman]

Well, the time period's of interest, and the writing style's very good.

I'm also somewhat curious about the potential differences for Ireland moving forward. If the conversion of Ireland proceeds apace--and, really, no reason it shouldn't--what impact will a more Celtic and, I expect, more thoroughly Christian Britain have on the new Irish church? But that's still well in the future.

If I stick to finishing this with the death of Artos (some hope the way this keeps growing) then I won't cover Ireland much except noting that the raids stop and they try more conventional trading.

Wow, you do? Goodness, this story has a remarkable flow and sense of continuity, all the characters leave a vivid picture in the mind and there is a strong connection to time and place. All the best authors say they have no idea what is going to happen in a story and leave the characters to inform the writer what is to occur. I’m way to rigid (anal) to do that which is why I could never write something as beautiful as this is. Please Sir, may we have more?

I'm blushing I don't really handle praise too well (but like getting it!). I'm an apprentice in his first few minutes of training as far as writing is concerned. There are a lot of far better writers on this site.
I always remember a comment my English teacher made about one of my essays (many years ago)
"Never before have I had the misfortune to mark something so boring"
He was actually right! I tend to think in straight lines hence teach Maths!

 

[Oldbill]

Why do we like it? Because your good at it. As A.Morgan said above, the story flows, its well told and well written, we are able to visualize the occurrences, based on your words. I'd add it is a time period we, in the West, have always considered one of the great "Might have beens" in history. It's the "underdog" story, the "great last stand" of the WRE, both things we love. In reality the Romans were a complicated bunch, bringing enormous benefits to people, while also being a bunch of complete rat fuck bastards who show little concern for the lives of others. Better or worse than the Barbarians? Guess it depends on whose history your reading. Regardless, this time period, and it's cast, holds a spell upon us, and your capturing it well. BZ!

 

[chr92]

Myself, I do like posts like that last one. A sidebar, but it shows people's lives.

 

[A. Morgan]

Myself, I do like posts like that last one. A sidebar, but it shows people's lives.

A very good point. The characters seem real people. They aren’t cardboard cutouts that march on say X or do Y and then exit stage left. They resonate, even the ones I don’t particularly care for. As Oldbill said above, “Bravo Zulu” I’m looking forward to reading your work Lindseyman when you get good at this caper.

 

[Spartan-G257]

Well this is most definitely going on my follow list.

Although what does have me curious is the language spoken by 2018AD
My best guess is that it would be Latin-Anglo-Danified Welsh.
Or more likely Anglo-Danified Welsh.
Rather different to our Franco-Danified Anglo-Saxon

 

[Lindseyman]

No addition to the story, sorry my A Level students have got past papers flooding in. However I found these images on Google which fit the time line quite well.

Cavalry and tribesman

Infantry

Fighting the Picts