Greetings, high priestess Camma
Where my heart would speak I must make my rank as Roman soldier talk in bitter tones. I long to place my arms around you, once again, and protect you from what is coming, but we have little time.
Suetonius Paulinus, a veteran of campaigns in North Africa, and much honoured in Rome, makes his way north, in haste, and means to cross the treacherous straits to Môna Insula with infantry and cavalry. His reputation is a bloody one and I fear for your people.
How little he knows of them! Would that I could open to him the gifts of my time with your tribe of Druids and show him the gentle and cultured face of those whose defiance and bravery have caused such fear in the hearts of the sons of Rome.
Alas, I may not tell my own story. Suetonius Paulinus can never know…
View original post 313 more words