The Greener Shore Read Online Free PDF Page A

for it.
    Death is of little consequence. However, Celts have a visceral aversion to rigidity. Because the natural world is full of movement, the curve and the spiral are beautiful to us. Romans, on the other hand, are addicted to straight lines. The squares and boxes they construct imprison free-flowing spirit. Even a day spent in a Roman cell would cripple our children.
    Vercingetorix had been imprisoned in Rome; left to slowly starve in a cramped cell, he whose roof had been the stars. He whom duplicitous Caesar had promised to treat as befitted an honorable opponent. In the end, Rix had been dragged through the streets in a final act of humiliation and publicly strangled.
    For this alone my spirit would hunt that of Gaius Julius Caesar down all the roads of Time.
     

     
    BOATS ON THE OPEN SEA HAVE A NASTY EFFECT ON THE BELLY. THE only person who did not vomit over the side at least once was Labraid. When the two boats were close enough together to make conversation between them possible, Labraid called to his mother, “I think I was born for the sea. From now on you can call me Labraid Loingseach; the Speaker Who Sails the Seas.”
    Youngsters are not given the privilege of naming themselves arbitrarily. I caught Onuava’s eyes with a question in mine. She shrugged one shoulder to indicate she had no objection.
    “Labraid Loingseach,” I repeated, validating the new name. “Don’t get too used to the title, though. We’re not going to do this again.”
    The boy grinned and tossed his head exactly the way Rix used to do. “I might,” he said. He began pestering Grannus to be allowed to take a turn with the oars.
    Unfortunately Ainvar the druid did not have a warrior’s belly. Members of the Order of the Wise pride themselves on their dignity, but mine came pouring out of me in ugly gobbets that floated on the surface of the waves as if to taunt me. When I tried to read the omens in them, they capriciously dissolved.
    At sunset the Armoricans took down the heavy sails and let us drift with a current which, they swore, was going in the right direction. Some of my people slept, but I could not. I lay awake with my head pillowed on Briga’s warm belly and gazed up at the stars. They had changed, those stars. Their configuration was not quite the one I knew.
    Would their changed Pattern change ours?
    When the sun rose, the sails were raised also and we continued our journey. There was no land to be seen in any direction. Even the seabirds that frequent the coast had deserted us. Yet on we went, until a misty headland rose before us. “Albion!” Goulvan announced happily.
    The relief I felt was short-lived. Even as we were bumping through the pebbled shallows, I spied a settlement on a promontory. A square, sturdy, fortified settlement built in a style I recognized.
    I rounded on Goulvan in a fury. “There
are
Romans here!”
    He tried to look surprised. “Are there?”
    “You know there are! What place is this again?”
    “Why, Albion. I told you.”
    “By some terrible chance could Albion also be known as the land of the Britons?”
    “I believe it is,” the scoundrel conceded.
    “Which means the Romans are here before us, you wretched pustule! What was your plan, Goulvan—to sell us to them like bags of wheat?”
    The trader held out gnarled hands. “By the wind and the waves, I swear—”
    “Swear nothing. Your words are brass posing as gold.” I turned toward the second boat, which was following close behind us. “I need a sword!” I cried. We all carried personal knives but I wanted something more intimidating that could be clearly seen by the crews in both boats.
    Although his beard had not begun to grow, young Labraid’s body housed a fully fledged warrior spirit. His proudest possession was a shortsword modeled on the Roman gladus. Labraid had coaxed and bullied Teyrnon into forging the weapon for him shortly before we left Gaul.
    In response to my cry Onuava’s son drew his sword from its