CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A.D. 44
T
hat
year the Celts suffered many unaccustomed hardships, living now as the Silures did. But when spring came again and they had had time to find themselves dark-skinned wives and to plant their cornseed, they began to feel more settled. Besides, as Caradoc had told them, hobbling round from farm to farm, this was only a temporary measure. One day, perhaps very soon, he would collect all the tribes and ride back to the lost kingdom. Then the Romans would be thrown out and there would be rejoicing in Camulodunum once more. At least that was what Caradoc had said; and though some of the more cynical had seen a look of doubt in his eyes as he spoke, they had all nodded and slapped him on the back, Gallic fashion, and called him “Good old Badger” affectionately.
