1 Chapter 1

Brennus crouched in the leaf litter like a hunted animal, his heart pounding a tattoo in his chest. From between the curled fronds of a clump of ferns, he watched the small group of Roman soldiers march by, their red tunics covered with armour and otherwise hidden by their scuta, the long rectangular shields they carried.

He’d almost been seen. He’d made the mistake of not paying attention, of forgetting his world no longer belonged solely to him and his people. These invaders, with their clinking, clanking weapons, and their strange words, had assumed control of the lands he shared with the other ancient Britons. They were a plague, taking what they wanted and capturing men like him for use as slaves. They were Red Devils, and the business of simply living had become a good deal more dangerous because of them.

Only when the sound of their footsteps and their clanking swords had vanished did Brennus dare to step from the ferns. His pulse was still racing as he peered up and down the dirt track, his senses honed for anything out of the ordinary. With nothing but the sound of the wind sweeping through the branches, his instincts told him he was safe. For the moment.

“More careful,” he muttered, irritated. Have to be more careful!

He returned to the undergrowth, making his way past trees and shrubs, to the large stream that snaked its way through the woods. For as far back as he could remember, Brennus had never felt calmer, more at peace, than when he was near water. As he stepped to the grassy edge, he watched, almost mesmerised, as the crystal-clear liquid, glinting in the sunlight, raced by to a destination unknown. Some said it emptied into a river that ran all the way to the sea, but to Brennus, the sea was nothing but a concept, explained to him simply as an expanse of water so vast it stretched to the horizon. He was doubtful such a thing could exist, but he was intelligent enough not to have disputed something he hadn’t seen for himself.

Tempted by the water, Brennus removed the clasp that held his cloak in place and let both items fall to the ground. He removed his tunic of roughly woven wool, his animal skin boots, and his woven leggings. Naked, he gazed at his reflection shimmering on the surface of the water.

Even for his people, he stood tall. Taller than some of the Red Devils. And his body was solid and muscular. It was a hunter’s body, a body belonging to a man of the land. A small patch of dark brown hair covered the centre of his chest and another thicker patch surrounded his uncut cock. His face possessed a square jaw and a straight, manly nose. His lips were full and sensual. There could be no disputing he’d been blessed abundantly by the gods.

He stepped into the cool water, the chill shocking his body and drawing from him a gasp. After wading to the centre of the stream, he squatted and cupped his hands, scooping up water and pouring it over his body to wash the dirt and sweat of the day from his lightly-tanned skin. He washed his shoulder-length chestnut-coloured hair, and the place between his legs. As he pulled back his foreskin, exposing the glistening pink cockhead beneath, his organ grew hard in his palm. Ignoring it, he carried on with his ablutions, stepping from the water only when he had thoroughly washed his body.

His erection slapped from thigh to thigh as he stepped across the stones to where he’d left his clothing. Snatching up the small bundle, he continued on to a patch of mossy rock, warmed by the sun. The perfect place to dry himself. He lay down, rolling up his cloak and placing it beneath his head to cushion it. With the soft moss beneath him and the sunlight bathing him from above, he felt content. Everything he needed, he had.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness instantly filled with the sound of bird song. He could make out a blue tit, a chorus of chaffinches, a warbler, a siskin, and even the knocking of a woodpecker. Their comforting calls soon lulled him into a light slumber, where he hovered at the very border of sleep, vaguely aware he had begun to snore.

* * * *

Sometime later, his instincts roused him. Something didn’t feel right. He sat up and looked over his left shoulder, knowing the danger was behind him. Immediately, his eyes fell on the figure of a Red Devil, standing partly hidden by a tree, pleasuring himself.

Brennus leapt backwards, springing to his feet, ready to flee with or without his clothing.

“Wait!” said the Red Devil. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Curiosity replaced fear. Brennus looked curiously at the Red Devil.