It was in the year 175 BC, a time known as the Iron Age. Marole had led his tribe of Petrocorii to southern Gaul to area known as Perigueux. In modern day this would be the south of France. His was one of four tribes that settled there. He was an Arch Druid one of only six known throughout history. He established an encampment at La Boissiere for his tribe. Marole had achieved the highest level of spiritual bond with nature and was quite powerful. He had performed the “Ritual of Oak and Mistletoe” many times before. There was a large Valonia Oak growing nearby and another ritual was being planned for that night which was the sixth day of the moon. Marole was very compassionate and he called for this ceremony to help four barren women from his tribe. He was unaware that the Romans soldiers were preparing to raid their camp. They had gathered at the tree for the ceremony, the two white bulls were tied nearby.
When all of a sudden the Roman soldiers poured from the trees, swords swinging and the slaughter began. The attack was brutal, the druid tribe virtually unarmed, massacred. Carnage was everywhere. A mace slammed into Marole’s head and he fell unconscious. When he awoke he was tied and laying in a cart with a few women from his tribe that were also tied up. The cart was moving, he passed out again.
When he opened his eyes again he was on a stone bed in some kind of large keep or castle. He was given some water and bread. He asked where he was and what happened to his people but his questions fell on deaf ears. As he was eating he was pulled from the bed by two roman soldiers and pushed as he struggled to walk into a small room with a richly dressed roman soldier. “You are the druid leader are you not?” The soldier asked. “Yes, I am Marole, what about my people? Do they Live?” Marole asked. They are all dead the commander told him. I will let you live until I get orders about what to do with you. Put him in the Oubliette he told the soldiers. They tied a rope around his chest and lowered him down the hole into the dungeon. He was told to untie the rope and when he did they pulled it up. He was trapped in a stone carved hole. The dungeon had one exit, a hole in the ceiling 20 feet above him, all seemed hopeless for him. Marole removed his clothes and sat on the ground. He closed his eyes and prayed for strength and divine intervention. He went into a deep trance. His body curled in pain and his muscles began to spasm. His skin erupted and he continued to pray. A transformation was taking place. He cried out in pain and the soldiers ran to look down into the black hole. They saw only darkness in the shadows below when all of a sudden a huge hawk flew out of the hole and disappeared through the slit in the stone wall. All that lie in on the dungeon floor was the druids cloth robe. Marole was gone!
Marole flew around the hills in concentric circles surveying the Romans forces. He estimated about 1000 soldiers camped around the great keep and maybe another 50 inside. He looked for the three women from his tribe but he could not find them. He followed the Allier river out of the hills to the west until it joined the Oltis river. He landed in the woods outside Gergovia and went through the painful transformation back into human form. He rested there in the thick woods near the river till the next day. He fed himself from nature and walked naked toward Gergovia. He happened across an Arverni hunter who befriended him and gave him a robe to wear on his way to the large city. The Arverni were a Gallic tribe that had been fighting the Romans for years. Gergovia was home to King Luernios leader of the Gallic military hegemony. Word of the Arch Druid Marole entering the city and seeking to meet with the king traveled fast. A military commander took Marole to see King Luernios. Marole related the story of his tribes massacare and then detailed the Roman forces and location. Luernios ordered a strike force of 2,000 men to be assembled in 3 days time and led to defeat the Roman stronghold at the great keep. Marole traveled with the commander as an advisor. The keep sat on a hill overlooking the destroyed village of Briyas. Marole guided a small group of elite assassins and they killed the scouts and patrols while the main attack force crept up toward the keep unnoticed. In the dead of night the keep was over run by the Arverni warriors with few casualties to the Arverni. Marole and the elite force rescued the three women that were taken captive from his tribe.
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Short Story / Non-Fiction
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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