Funny old world

Greetings!
You never know what`s going to happen next. I was never so glad to get away from anywhere as I was from Rome. It all went bad when I finally found the street where Hern was when he saved Julia Domnina`s life. If you remember from Celts v Romans that ended with Hern trapping Diarmid into a plot against the General. He was training Diarmid to be a Roman citizen. That part of the city held a lot of people with not much money and various ideas for laying thier hands on what other people had.

As this involved hitting them on the head, grabbing them from behind and cutting their throats or sticking a dagger in just far enough to loosen the srtrings of their purses, or much, much worse. So I was creeping along, looking around nervoulsy. Someone told me later this was my mistake. Dik the Miller said: "Be confident, but not too confident. Move steady, but not too fast or slow." Easier said than done. And he was talking about London, which was not so dangerous then, in the time of Richard the Third. Don`t ask. It`s a long story. Maybe later, if I remember.

Somehow, which I can`t explain, I suddenly knew someone was making a move on me. Not a nice feeling in a town where you haven`t even found a bed to sleep on. So I took off. Someone tripped me. I scraped skin off my knees and hands. I scrabbled up in panic and ran on. I saw the river, l leapt onto the parapet and dived.

Luckily, I hit the water. Later, I saw someone do this and land headfirst in the mud. His legs kicked wildly for a bit, but he could work his head free and they twitched horribly and went still. Rome was scary enough from the start. I was even more nervous after these two experiences. Twice more I was chased over the next few weeks. I got myself sold as a slave, like Diarmid and Hern and I learned a lot from that. It brought me a kind of safety, a place to sleep, and food. I had to put up with being whipped a lot more than I wanted, but my owner wasn`t as bad as some I heard of. In a few months, I felt I knew enough about Rome and the Romans.

Some of them were all right. Kind and clever. But when they were horrible, you wouldn`t want to see how horrible they were. I had to take Mistress to the Circus Maximus. She always wanted to see the Gladiator she was supporting, every time he fought, until he was killed. It was awful. He was stabbed in the side with a trident and fell to his knees. I cried. That great strong man. I heard him stifel a groan. The look in his eyes still haunts me, like the nightmares of running down the street that went on and on. I still get them occasionally. It wasn`t much fun watching the wild animals fighting either. They screamed.

I tell you, I became desperate to get away. When the slipshift came in, I was so glad. Falling asleep in Rome, I woke up on a hillside, by a stream, in the North Country. Just below was a little settlement hidden among a forest of oak trees. When I went down they greeted me in a friendly way, and they spoke Gaelic. Soon food was set out and we talked about their battles with the Romans.

"Nothing has happened for many years," said Daoulas, their leader, "my people came here from Gaul, at the time of Caesar, and now if we leave them alone, they leave us alone."

While this sounded good, I could see others in the group were turning away their heads. It seemed to me they did not agree. I thought it would be a bad idea to ask what they were thinking too soon. For the next few days I just enjoyed the games, the dancing, the songs and the hunting. Bad idea to go poking a stick into a hornets` nest unless you really have to. I tried to amuse them with stories about Rome or my slipshift travels. Quite quickly I became popular with all sorts of people, including children bringing me their questions. On the surface, everyone looked happy and carefree. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, and the nightmares left me.

But all the time I was making myself ready for the time when talk of conflict with the Romans would begin again, as I was sure it must. From what I had learned about them, the Romans very rarely gave up on controlling the countries where theyhad taken over. Only the Saxona, in Germania, had driven them back. Only the Gaels, across the sea, had been left alone along with the Picts, in their Northern fastness. Very soon, the sound of tramping Roman feet would be heard in the distance. Then there would have to be talks about what to do.

I will report again soon. I tell you, I was so shaken by my last visit to Rome, it took a long time before I could even think about it again.

May the wind be always at your back

Conor

Conor in Rome

So, where were we? To be quite plain about it, I don`t like life in this age of yours. Everything is so noisy and such a rush.

All right. Calm down. Deep breaths. I went on a slipshift to Rome. So much of what was important in Diarmid`s story happened there and we don`t know much about it these days. When I was stuck next to this bloke in a van on the M25 for about an hour, we got talking. I asked him what he knew about Rome.
"Madness!" he cried, and started talking about the traffic.
"Sorry," I said, "I mean the Romans. Ancient Rome."

All he knew seemed to be about Sophia Loren and Kirk Douglas. From the way he described it, I think they were in films. I must say, I like films. Sometimes. Not much of what the van-driver said was completely wrong, or quite right. I`d better just tell you what happened to me.

Like Diarmid and the traitor Hern, I had to spend time as a slave, but I was sold before I`d even stepped off the boat. Just until I`d learned the language. Also like Diarmid, I was lucky to be bought by a decent master. Not too many whippings, more than enough food.

Once I could speak Latin, it was arranged that I would seem to have died. I even went to my own funeral, which was horrible because even the Master was very upset. Still, there was no other way. I had to find the General who housed Diarmid and Strabo, the old Greek tutor who helped him escape. The General had retired to his country villa and I couldn`t find Strabo because it turned out he had been freed and had gone back to Greece.

For a month I wandered the streets, soaking up the atrmosphere but keeping out of sight. Rome was a very frightening place in those days. It was crowded and smelly and full of people who were ready to fight, sometimes for no reason at all. Theymight not have had guns, but when you`ve seen what swords and slavery can do, you won`t think guns are all that much to worry about. Even the buildings seemed to offer a challenge, or a threat.

In the Senate, I heard the Roman leaders talk about tribes like ours as though they were cattle to be bought and sold. They were complaing about the Picts and the Saxons. I also visited the stinking prison where Diarmid had been kept on arrival. I found a space near the back of the Circus Maximus and watched gladiators fighting to the death. I followed one of the winners back down below and nearly walked into a lion`s cage. The fighting and bloodshed were bad enough but the lion really finished me off. I ran out of the back door into an old gladiator, who tried to pick a fight with me. He was both drunk and angry and I had to slipshift to get away.

The Druids don`t mind sending me where it`s dangerous, but they do protect me when it gets too much. Now it turned out I was in for a holiday. I arrived on a little island just off the coast of Greece. Strabo was waiting for me but he would not say how he knew. There could be nobody better to tell me everything there is to know about Diarmid and Derdru, the adventures they had and their shy love. Believe me, they know what is important in life, those Greeks.

But all good things come to an end. As autumn leaves began to fall, I came home, in the world I knew so well. Finding myself in the middle of the treachery of Coel and the Trinovans was most uncomfortable sort of homecoming. .

Hi,

I`m stuck in a traffic-jam on the M25 and won`t be able to get to my machine for a while.
You see, Im learning how to deal with computers and Post Offices and stuff. I have to, if I want to get Celts v Romans to a book-publisher. Life just keeps on being hectic.

Luckily, I`ve bee sent to stay with a friend called Caitlin, who knows about Celts.Well, she`s a friend now. She has black thing called a Blackberry and I can use it to go on my blog. I expected it was going to be purple and lumpy. Like a blackberry. Shows how much I know. But I will get the hang of it all. She is driving me out to Wales, wher her people have a house and I can settle myself down.

This is a very weird feeling. I`m surrounded by cars and great big lorries, belching smoke. Only a few days ago I was in Ancient Rome, running down the street from soldiers throwing spears. When they had me cornered I leapt over a wall, expecting to break a leg or something, Instead I landed in the River Tiber.

It was a really smelly just at that point, where alot of sewers came out, but at least I escaped. Here the noise gives me a headache. It was nearly as bad as Rome, with all the cart wheels rattling. And people crying thei wares. That means yelling about whattheyhad to sell at the tops of their voices. I`m sure you won`t think I`m being silly when I say I prefer people to machines.

More about all that when I get somewhere safe. And quiet. The Romans were very fierce. I`d rather run with a wolfpack than speak to Roman soldiers. It takes me a long time to get used to cities, even though I have been back & forth several times. There are a few good things about them, like buses and the Underground. And restaurants and theatres. And the zoo.

But give me a wash in a lake up the high hills anytime.

Back as soon as I can

Conor

Conor`s Celtic slipshift travels

Sorry. I got into difficulty. Or rather, into prison. This slipshifting business is not as easy as you might think. The thing is, sometimes the Druids just send me off and I arrive wherever it is ina flash. Sometimes they tell me to "Hang on" and it`s more like flying. I can see where I`m going. Sometimes there`s a mistake and that`s how I landed in that horrible school in England where I nearly ended up being flogged.

As soon as I had learned English well enough, off I went to Rome, to find out what about Diarmid`s life as a captive there was like. The idea was that I would also learn Latin and find out about the Romans. It was necessary, if Iwas going to make a proper job of telling the story of Celts v Romans. They`re a funny lot, the Romans. Quite often they make it hard to see the joke. They can be very cruel. I`ll tell you all about it next time.

About a hundred years after Diarmid`s time and Julius Caesar`s invasions, the Romans came back. They had a lot more soldiers and this time they stayed. My job was to give messages to the Britons, about what the Romans were like. Mind you, by that time, the Britons knew quite well what they were like. The gauls had been defeated. I was just coming out of the steam bath when I heard the words "Hang on" and off I went.

You know how it is when you`re travelling. You see things. It`s just the same with slipshifting and I had just passed over the snows on the high Alps when I lost concentration. It was my own fault. But I ask you, if you see a really big pack of wolves you can`t help staring at them, can you? So the spell was broken and I fell in amongst them.

Luckily, they must have just eaten. They only sniffed at me and wandered off. First I panicked about the wolves, then I realised I had lost my slipshift. Not only that, I had passed into a time a long way on from wher I was supposed to be. It would take time to find me. The next thing I knew, I was hit from behind, a sack was put over my head, which smelled of pigs. I woke up just in time to notice I was being thrown in prison. I don`t mind the smell of pigs, but the prison was horrible. It had no latrine or toilet. Can you imagine?

The country was called Thuringia. They told me they thought I looked like someone who had upset the Thuringian King. It all took a long time to sort out. Peopple came and looked at and asked questions. For some reason they knew Latin. This was good, as I didn`t known their alnguage. I was kept alive because some Thuringians did not much like their King and wanted a change. From time to time I could hear fighting in the streets. So they wanted to keep me alive, at least until they found a judge who wanted to sentence me to death. The food was quite good, for a prison.

That`s how I made a friend. She was a rat and came in to see if there was any food on the go. She hobbled in from the far corner because she only had three legs, like a tripod. I took pity on her, gave her food called her Tripo. It was the first name she had ever had. One of the things about slipshifting is that you can talk to animals and even plants. You have to sit very still and it takes a long time to hear plants. Trees are a bit quicker. With animals, it `s just like people. Almost.

Tripo told me all about the prison, where she had been born and how she lost her paw. She explained about the torture chamber, which was full of horrid instruments, including The Iron Maiden, which was a coffin with long spikes on the inside.
Day followed day, Winter followed Summer, until one day inearly Spring, I asked Tripo about the guards.
"Oh," said, "some of them aren`t too bad."
"They seem pretty horrible."
"That`s because they`re guarding you and not me," said Tripo, "I suppose you must fear they`ll put you to sleep."
I jumped.
"P-p-put me to sleep?" I stuttered.
"Only if they want totake someone somewhere and they think he`ll fight. You`ve made them firghtened."
"Frightened? Why?"
"Because you look like a warrior. And they can`t work out where you come from. Your people might send an army for you. Must go. Byeee!"

When Tripo ran run off, I thought I must have frightened her myself. I should have known her better. The next day she squeezed in under the door, dragging a thimble.
"Look!" she announced proudly.
It must have been a great task for her. The thimble would have fitted on the stubby finger of a jailer, so it was a great load for her. Also, it was made heavier by being full of white powder.
"What`s this?" I asked in amazement, picking it up.
"No," she cried, "Don`t touch! It`s sleeping powder. I know where they keep it."

With that she ran up the door and started gnawing the place where the hinges were. Without pausing to explain, she ran out again. She returned carrying a long nail, about two hand`s breadths.
"Now listen and tell me if I`ve got it wrong," she said, "I think I know how we can both get out of here."
I lay on my bed and dear Tripo started whispering in my ear.

More soon

YOU CAN BUY "CELTS V ROMANS: DIARMID`S FIRST BATTLE" FROM AMAZON OR AUHTORSONLINE
WHERE YOU CAN ALSO GET A DOWNLOAD AND READ AN EXTRACT.
If any of you would like to get in touch, my e-mail is c_onor@tiscali.co.uk THANKS FOR VISITING

FROM BAD TO VERSE

Greetings! I`m not getting the hang of this slipshiting business at all. First I was sent to a school in Victorian England where they did floggings and roasting over an open fire for selected boys. Luckily, I learned enough English to tell Diarmid`s story quite quickly. Surprising what you can do when you`re terrified.

It`s the story of Caesar coming to invade the Britons. I think I`ll call it Celts v Romans, which suggests some sort of conflict. This slipshifting is a sort of punishment for messing up our Celtic defences when Agricola came. I don`t want to talk about it. I was only young. It`s not a sort of punishment, it`s a real one and seems to be getting worse.

Now I`min Ancient Rome, which roughly five thousand times more scary than the Druids, the Britons and Caesar all rolled into one. Make a wrong move and you`ll be fed to the lions. And the thing of it is this. My trouble with the Druids was no accident, if you see what I mean. I have accidents like other people have porridge. For breakfast. Or even before. I`ve been in Rome for a year. Master just woke up one morning and found he had a extra slavew to whip. He complained at first about the extra work, but now he quite likes it, as his wife Adeppa want the whole place painting red. It`s very fashionable. But I`ve only just got a grip on the language, which is rather ugly, frankly.

Being whipped gets very annoying after a few days, so what I`m trying to do is write some poetry, or verse at least. This is not approved of, when your a slave. I have to try and get out of the house, without breaking anything, and write in the dust at the Forum with a stick. If I make a name for myself and get a patron, I`ll meet a better class of whipper. My master is rich, but not very clever or cultured. HIs idea of living a good life to be carried to bed, drunk, every night.

When he has been put down, I sometimes sit up all night, working out my poems. I have to stick to light, amusing subjects. Philosophy and no satire can be surprisingly dangerous here. Yesterday someone started rubbing it all out with his foot before I`d finished. Now I may be stupid, but I`m not an idiot. Before I bit through his hamstring, I checked to see who it was. Gladiators back eqach other up you know, in spite of what you`ve heard, so I was lucky to be able to run away.

There are all sorts of things I have to learn about the Romans. So I`m going have to stick it out here. I wish I had a master who lived inbthe country. OIr by the seaside. They all want to be in the Senate you see. Or find a General who will promote them.

At least I`m still alive. Slaves have very short lives, quite often. I dream of Ynis Mon and the long summer evenings, listening to the Druid recite. But I fear it will be a long time before I`m back there........

Please offer anything you can to the Gods for my continued survival. Some people like life on the edge. I prefer a comfy chair.

Greetings! It was funny how I ended up in that school. Easy to make a mistake when you have 2000 years to play with. I landed in 1862, when it was supposed to be 1962. Things were more relaxed.and the teaching slightly better. In 1862, the place was more like the Ancient Rome than any thing, and really quite savage. Ivy clung to the walls of the tall, dark, spiked buildings that looked so much like a prison.Let`s face it, it was a prison. The idea was that I would come out of it able to tell Diarmid`s story.

It was hard for me at first. All I had to go on were a few words and phrases. It`s a very odd language you know, made up of lots of other bits. Of course I had found out how the Romans used to go on, and had learned some Latin, so all the rough stuff at St Jude`s was not so terrible as it would seem to you now. They never roasted me over an open fire. At least, not very much. They didn`t even do that to gladiators. And I didn`t get flogged.

I had a few tricks to make me popular. The Druids had taught me how to to disappear you see. You`re not supposed to mess about with that side of magic. Being a mysteriousd helped to make me popular. Once, I disappeared in a Latin class, was writing on the board. When he turned round, I slapped him round the head with the board cloth, full of chalk. Great tall man he was, bald, and with a a great black gown and a stoop. He was always hitting us. The whole class was rolling about on the floor laughing as the cloth danced around his head, coering it in chalk-dust They had to stay in writing lines. As it was raining they didn`t mind. Iran off to hide in the stinking Bogs and pretend I`d fainted. When it came to games, I had a good eye, because I played shinty as a lad, so was good at cricket. I really miss cricket. I also learned boxing, which came in useful in Rome. We will come to that later.

All-in-all I was sad to leave the tall, gloomy, dark buildings of St Jude`s. Although I kept my distance, there were some pleasant characters there. I grew quite fond of them. I was surprised how much like my own people they were. They must have been descended from us, to be strong enough to survive. The food was revolting. One piece of fish I had would have frightened a gladiator. All I needed to know about English I learned in a single year, so I thought I was ready to tell Diarmid`s story. I had also picked upsome more Latin.

Soon I was to find out I had barely started. To explain how Julius Caesar was sent packing from these islands was more difficult that I thought. All thesame, it was time to go to Rome. What I remember most about St Jude`s was being cold, wet and hungry. At least there was no danger of fighting lions, being speared by a trident, or rolled down a hill in a barrel that had spikes on the inside. That`s what Iwas up against next. .

Eevn the Roman experience would not be enough. The Druids told me I would have to experience modern times, the frantic rush through the terrible noise and smell of modern machines. How do you put up with it? That`s not my idea of a good life, I can tell you. I thought it made Rome sound like a holiday. You get these silly ideas sometimes.