The first time I met the love of my life she was sat beside the man who had captured my father. I was dragged into a large Roman tent, chains cutting off the circulation to my outer limbs. Pins and needles plagued me feet while my hands remained blissfully numb. Hair stuck to my face in a disgusting mix of dirt and sweat and tears. The soldiers had mocked my golden locks but their words made me feel proud. I was nothing like them. They called us savages but these men were monsters.
A soldier introduced me in Latin to the man sitting in the large chair, the focal point of the tent. He was a foreboding man, tanned skin like leather with dark brown hair cut short. The uniform accented his broad shoulders and the tightness of the plate allowed every slow breath to be seen. He looked at me with confusion. Speaking to the soldier his voice was quiet, threatening. The only part I understood was when he mentioned Gaul. I stared at the floor. If I let them know I recognise the use of the countries name as a man I would have been taken. I would have favored execution than being treated as a pet of Rome.
When the man tried to address me I stared at him shaking my head. I didn't understand Latin. The man was inconvenienced by this but turned to the girl on his right, uttered a few words to her before she said: "Right now you stand before the personification of the Roman Empire. He has a few questions for you which I would advise you answer in full." This girl wasn't Roman. She was far too beautiful and fair. Her dirty blonde hair rolled in delicate curls over shoulders. A silver chain with a druid symbol hung around her neck. The white dress made her divine. This girl appeared to be a goddess of whom I wasn't worthy to behold.
"Do you know of plans of Rebellion in Gaul?" the girl asked.
"Tell me your name and I may answer," I replied, if I was to die I would perish knowing the name of this deity.
The girl turned to Rome, muttering together in Latin.
"I am Albion, now you will answer my question," she glared at me and her eyes, oh my her eyes were as green as the forest after heavy rainfall. I should have felt intimidated but I couldn't help feeling at peace.
"I know of rebellion in Gaul and any other place which has been conquered by these tyrants who call themselves Roman," my answer caused Albion and Rome to discuss for a long time. During the conversation her face softened and she glanced at me with pity.
Without warning Rome stood, he radiated dominance. Shamefully I bowed my head as he brushed past me. The soldier left with him leaving Albion and I alone. I was shocked when she released me from my chains. My wrists were so raw I had to roll my sleeves up to avoid irritation. Albion crouched down to my level, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"I know who you are, son of Gaul. Be Glad that my father no longer thinks the same," all I could do was stare at her with my mouth ungraciously open. I didn't understand, what was to become of me?
"I-I-If you intend to kill me just do it."
"Now why would I want to do that? You and I are going to be allies," Albion smirked.
"What makes you think I'd be willing to?"
"Why, because we want the same thing! Freedom from Rome."
The road to Rome was long. Every stride the horse took was a dagger in my pride. Albion rode alongside me. Usually Roman women would have travelled in the comfort of a small carriage but she refused and stayed at the head of the legion. It was only after a few days of riding that I understood. Often along the track I'd see movement in the trees and foliage framing the path. Albion would purposely make her horse buck, she'd even fallen a few times, then the movement would disappear. It was a clear warning to stand down.
In public I was Albion's slave, in private I was her friend. She taught me Latin. I cherished every lesson. The way her body relaxed when she spoke was mesmerizing, she was born to teach others and I felt born to listen to her.
Rome came around frequently to give his daughter gifts and ask for her advice on battle plans. I eventually found out his name was Caecilius. Although intimidating he was a doting father, smiled openly in the villa and tenderly hugged Albion. Yet this affection did nothing to waver Albion's hatred. While playing the dutiful daughter to his face she schemed when he left, sending messages around the empire and consolidating forces.
She was devastated when Caecilius ordered her to move into his villa. I wasn't thrilled either. Now I had to act as her slave in private as well. The only plus side was that another countries child was also staying in the villa. He called himself Prussia. His hair was white with red beady eyes. Other slaves refused to go near him but not me, I wasn't afraid of him. Albion said we needed him as an ally and since she could only speak to him in a public format I was the best chance of an alliance.
It was a few weeks before I approached Prussia. I caught him as he was doing extra Latin practice – badly, he was truly horrific at it. The room was lowly light by two candles at the table in which he sat. I stood by the door at first, waiting for him to invite me in. When that failed I coughed to notify him.
"Oh, it's you. What do you want?" Prussia questioned in my native tongue.
"I have a…well Miss Albion has a proposition for you," I stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind me.
"Look if this is about marriage then tell her I'm not interested. It's bad enough that my father has sent me here. Me! Why should I be punished?! These Romans don't speak my language and they're far too stuffy! I need to be able to express myself not learn this stupid Latin!" Prussia pushed his pen and papers onto the floor, stamping on then in a fit of resentment.
"So you want to leave this place?"
"More than anything!"
"Well I think we can help with that."
We began our own triumvirate. Albion was Caesar, Prussia was Pompey and I was Crassus. Together we plotted to bring Rome to its knees. Of course the time of Caesar had long passed but Albion still remembered him fondly. He was the one who took her from her home yet she bared nothing but respect for the man. She told stories of his triumphs and still lamented the nature of his death.
Prussia and I became good friends once he realised I was a country as well, the son of Gaul no less. He allowed me to call him Gilbert. Albion still refused to tell us her name, simply stating: "Names have power in this world, if you throw them around anyone can pick them up and use them as a weapon." It hurt me that she didn't trust me enough but I understood why. If she told me I'd never stop saying it. I imagined how her name would glide off my tongue as I would say it until I could no longer speak as my mouth would by dry from repeating the beauty of her name. She was right, names did have immense power.
Together we co existed in the villa for half a decade. Two children had been brought into the house, Albion's nephews. Although they were twins they were very different. Italy was passive and amiable while Romano was aggressive and mistrusting. Rome was away most of the time so we took it upon ourselves to care for them. As a slave it was my duty anyway but Albion and Gilbert loved them as though they were their own brothers.
I knew Albion and Gilbert actually had blood brothers. Gilbert had a younger brother, a baby who he often spoke of. He was sad he couldn't be with him now to teach him to be awesome. Albion however only had older brothers. The reason I know that is I once caught her having a nightmare. She was screaming in the middle of the night. Gilbert and I rushed in to check for an attacker but it was her own mind assaulting her. She bolted up in a swirl of sweat and tears, grasping onto me. Her fingers were thin but rough. I hadn't realised how strong she was. All she muttered was: "My brothers think I'm a traitor."
Despite this Albion took a real shine to the boys, especially Romano. She insisted upon teaching him how to shoot arrows. They'd work for hours in the atrium aiming and missing and trying again. Italy preferred to watch and draw Albion instead. For someone so young he had a real talent. He managed to capture fire on a paper, at least that's how I saw it. Albion was like flame. She looked captivating and tangible but she'd burn you from the inside out if you gave her the chance.
Rome came home after a long campaign in some province that he didn't really care about. The whole household sat at the dinner table that night. I served the meal with a few other slaves, brought back from Caecilius' travels. Once I finished my job I stood by a pillar waiting to be needed.
"Gilbert, I have had a discussion with your father. You are to be wed to Albion in a matter of days, cementing our friendship," Caecilius casually noted.
Albion was outraged to say the least. She argued, screamed, waved her arms around but she never begged. Gilbert was not above such things. He pleaded to speak with his father, change his mind. It was a terrible idea! How could Gilbert ever be suited to Albion? Caecilius smashed his fist on the table to end the discussion. Italy burst into tears and was carried off to bed.
That night a fire broke out in the villa. I leaped out of bed and went straight to Albion's room. It was empty so Gilbert's room was my next destination. Smoke was slowing me down, filling my lungs. I covered my mouth with a part of my tunic, squinting my eyes as they watered. Gilbert was asleep when I found him. I woke him up and we both searched for Albion.
Our coughing grew more frequent. I honestly feared I would perish before being able to see Albion again. Then we found her at the front door, cradling Italy and Romano in her arms as Caecilius blocked the front door.
"Give them to me!" Rome ordered, holding his arms out.
"No! I won't let you have them!" Albion held the boys closer and I felt a pang in my chest. We were going to escape and taking them with us would be too difficult. How could we raise two children on our own when we were children ourselves? Caecilius would never stop hunting us either if we took them.
"If we give you the boys will you let us go?" I stepped beside Albion. She glared at me as though I had plunged a dagger into her back. Maybe I wasn't Crassus after all, maybe I was Brutus. "You can have your grandchildren but you must give us your word you will never look for us!"
"Ahhh I should have known, you truly are the son of Gaul! Oh how blind I have been! Fine, I accept your offer. Give me the boys," Rome laughed, edging closer to Albion. She screamed in protest, tried to run but Gilbert and I…we took the boys from her and handed them to him. The shame I felt still hangs over my head. I traded those boys for my freedom. I was no better than the Romans.
We dragged Albion out, all the way to the outer fields of Rome. When we let her go she lunged at me, pinning me to the floor. From under her dress she unsheathed a small knife. She held it to my throat and stared at me. None of us moved. Tears fell onto my face. They were warm with anger and it burned me like a poison.
"If you intend to kill me just do it," I said with complete conviction. I had betrayed her and the little boys we played with. Guilt punched me with each thought and Albion loathing me was too much.
The knife pressed harder into my throat, blood trickled and the blade was removed. Albion crumpled onto my chest. I placed my arms around her as she sobbed.
All of us walked a bit further into some forest area to sleep for the night. In the morning Albion was gone but she left behind her silver druid necklace with a note:
I cannot forgive what you did but I understand. One day we will meet again under better circumstances, my dear Francis. For now we will go our separate ways and lead our nations to grow,
Alice x
