Calgaich the Swordsman by Gordon D. Shirreffs

don't serve in their own country. The Romans are too clever to allow anything like that. One British auxiliary serves in the Teuton country east of Gaul.” Calgaich's voice died away and the faraway look came in his eyes. He looked at her suddenly. “Why did you ask me that?” he asked her sharply.
    “I was just curious, that's all.”
    Calgaich strode on. “There are Britons serving in Britannia, but they pride themselves on being Romans.”
    “What do you mean?” she persisted.
    He looked back at her. “Most of the only true Romans in the three legions of, Britannia are the legates, tribunes and many of the centurions. The common legionnaires are mostly descendants of the early Roman legionnaires who served in Britannia hundreds of years ago and married the British women whom they had conquered. Their sons, in turn, joined the legions and themselves married British women, or the daughters of other legionnaires, until the strain of blood in the legionnaires of today is almost pure British. But they call themselves Romans and are proud of it!”
    “And the leaders of these legions? They are Romans?”
    He nodded. “For the most part. Some of them are descendants of Romans who served in Spain, North Africa and other places, but they are still Romans” He spat out the word “Roman” as though he had a mouthful of bad meat or fish.
    “Is it possible then, that these British Romans like being under Roman rule?” she asked.
    “They know nothing else. They are too many years away from the old free days of their ancestors. Not even the dimmest memories of those days remain with them, or their fathers and grandfathers. The children are raised either in the vici, the settlements behind the forts of the Great Wall, or in the coloniae farther south, near the legion garrison towns. The vici and the coloniae are inhabited for the most part by retired legionnaires and auxiliaries with their wives and families. The children are raised to eat Roman food, speak the Roman language, wear their mode of clothing and to follow their religion and customs. They know nothing else.
    “The boys, most of them, are sons of legionnaires or auxiliaries and are expected to enlist themselves when of age. They know they can’t become Roman citizens until they have served their time. To be a Roman citizen is considered the greatest of honors for Britons or any other slave peoples. When they retire, they return to the coloniae , or the vici , marry British girls, who are themselves the daughters of retirees, raise their families, and start the process all over again. This has been going on for three hundred and fifty years.”
    “No wonder they can’t think otherwise. Even as you, Calgaich, can’t think any other way than the way you were raised.”
    He looked around at her quickly. “Do you find anything wrong with that, woman?” he snapped.
    “There must be more to life than raiding and fighting,” Cairenn said defiantly.
    He stopped walking and stared at her as though she were not in her right mind. “There is hunting, woman!”
    “I meant much more than that, Calgaich.” She, too, stopped walking and met his gaze.
    A disquieting feeling possessed him. “Where do you really come from?” he asked.
    “From the country of the Ordovices. You know that.” She straightened her tired shoulders, proud of her heritage.
    He narrowed his eyes as he studied her face. He looked into her eyes as though he were trying to penetrate a screen or veil she might have put up to conceal her true self. A man could lose much looking into those eyes, perhaps even his soul. Calgaich turned quickly and strode off toward the forest.
    They turned inland and found a secluded glade where they rested and slept until the sun began to slant to the west over distant Hibernia. When they arose, Calgaich led the way through the gathering shadows of the late afternoon. A high, precipitous ridge loomed above them. Calgaich climbed it with an eagerness that belied