Chapter 5 | The Roman Guy

 "Can you help me move the cauldron out of the way? We need more space to seat everyone"

    "Those scumbags won't want to come inside our houses, will they?"

    "I am sure Melvin will take them inside to flaunt his trophies."

    "Ugh! Right."

    I watched as the path leading to the house was beautifully decorated and cleared off the cooking equipment. The chief's family, along with the extended family, lived on a hillfort with the River Boyne's tributary flowing on one side and mighty mountain ranges surrounding it on two other sides. There were animal pens housing horses and cattle on the fourth side where the hillfort sloped gently and opened to the village, farms, and more forests. I was wondering if this was modern-day Wales or Ireland because some of the Instagram pictures from there looked exactly like this, but I had no way of confirming with my poor geography and sense of direction. 

    It was a beautiful setting with a clear view on all sides for miles and miles.

    "There they are!" Iona exclaimed, pointing towards the riverbank.

    I got goosebumps as I watched the distant procession slowly approach the hillfort; litters carried by people or mules, carriages, and horseback riders. It felt like I was watching a TV show with an attractive cast.  

    "And there he is! Isn't he gorgeous?" She cracked a huge smile at me.

    I observed more keenly, he was riding with another man, ahead of the carriages and litters. There were more men riding next to the litters, they were probably his brothers and their families. Looking at the fierce look on his face caused my stomach to do somersaults. Jeez! He looks pissed.

    "What is his name?"

    "Marcus. You never asked." Iona chuckled.

    "As in Marcus Aurelius?"

    Iona looked confused. "I don't know who that is."

    "He is a Roman emperor."

    "Emperor? The Romans don't have an empire. They overthrew the king several centuries ago and formed the Republic."

    So this was before the empire. May be close to 200 BCE. I was here before even Ceaser was born!   

    "I wish Kegan was here to see him. It would be his turn to get jealous." Iona looked disappointed.

    "Who is Kegan?"

    "He is my lover. He is from a different tribe, and his father is also a chief. We were decided to be married as soon as I was born. But he has all these women from his tribe fawning over him. Ugh! I hate it."

    "Do you love him?"

    "I do," Iona blushed, "I was terrified when Marcus's family wanted me as the bride as I am the older daughter. But I had second thoughts when I saw him the other day that you met with the accident. Kegan is good looking but Marcus can make any woman dripping wet!"

    "He makes me nervous with that angry look on his face," My confession made Iona crack up. 

    "Oh come on! That's what makes him ever so hotter. And now that you can't remember Neill, you will not have to worry about getting over that loser."

    I had a different loser to worry about. The loser Jonathan. I felt a sudden spasm in my chest when I thought about him. 

    My family and relatives gathered in front of the house along with half a dozen druids to welcome the procession. They appeared to be wearing their best outfits; tartan weaved skirts or long trousers, fur cloaks, brooches, armlets, and torcs. Some of them, including my father, shaved their beards. Selma looked strikingly beautiful today with her chestnut-colored wavy hair let down.

    The Roman men got off their horses and greeted my father.

    Damn! These men looked so stunning to me. Their outfits were not extravagant and yet they complemented their masculinity very well. Knee-length tunics and elegantly draped togas made out of silk, wool, and linen paired with great looking shoes and well-groomed faces. I could only imagine the magnificence when they put on breastplates and backplates.

    Marcus was sporting all black except for his sword that was brass or bronze; I could never tell the difference between those two. His mocha brown horse looked strong and mean just like him. 

    The women stepped out of the carriages and litters. Their outfits screamed opulence. Ankle-length tunics, made from expensive silk and cotton, belted at the waist. High-waisted stolas that were fastened at the shoulders with clasps made of precious metals or adorned with jeweled cameos. Their tunics and stolas had wide ornamental hems that were tastefully designed. Some wore palla on top of the stola, that elegantly fell from their left shoulders and went under the right arms. Most of them wore lots of jewelry and elaborate hairstyles accessorized with jeweled hairpins and hairnets of gold or silver. I heard that they had specially trained slaves to help them dress. I felt like I could smell the strong perfume from one of them.

    Marcus's grandfather, Vitus, and grandmother, Juno, stepped out of a litter that was carried by four men. 

    "Where is my new granddaughter?" Vitus searched the crowd as I was pushed to the front by Selma and my mother.

    My knees went weak standing in front of Marcus. I was acting like I was eleven and he was my first crush. He stared at me and was it a flash of disappointment that I saw there?

    Well, f**k you too Marcus!

    "This is Marcus, dear," Juno said warmly while holding my hands. She stared at the people behind her before they moved to the front to introduce themselves to me.

    "We are Marcus's parents, Domitius and Maia," said a man with caved-in cheeks that sharpened his jawline. Maia could be my older sister and no one would question it. She looked young with large green eyes that complemented her palla's emerald color. Marcus also had green eyes but they did not look gentle like hers.

    "Marcus has two brothers and two sisters: Adrian, Quintus, Marilla, and Rhea, and they are all married." Domitius waved his hand towards the siblings and their families. Everyone appeared cautious and curious looking except the grandparents. They all spoke Celtic with different levels of fluency. I studied in school that the most popular languages in the Roman empire were Latin and Greek. I was ignorant of Celtic languages and their prevalence.

    "Let's get this ceremony started then? We will rest and feast later" said Vitus as everyone moved forward to settle down. It was a pleasant, windy day but I found myself sweating.

    Maia took my hand in hers and asked, "Marcus, what do you think?"

    "She's cute. I like her." My cheeks reddened when I heard Marcus say this.

    "Do you like my son too?"

    Why ask now? Is there a way for me to get out of this alive? I looked at Marcus and saw that he was staring at me with furrowed brows.

    He walked towards me and I automatically retreated before he turned to his left to grab hold of someone. 

    "Do you still like him?" He asked with an exasperated look.

    Who the hell is he? Neill maybe. Allena had good taste. Neill looked like the boy-next-door type, and I could see myself dating him if we both were in college.

    Marcus snapped his fingers loudly in front of my face, breaking my eye contact with Neill.

    "That settles it! I don't want her." Marcus sounded like someone who needed an excuse to break off this arrangement.

    I heard loud gasps and murmurs on either side before my dad stepped up.

    "I assure you, son, she is not that smitten teenager anymore. She understands her responsibilities towards her people. I have made this decision only after talking to her. You are the only one that she wants to get married to." My dad sounded worried.

    "I will bring her back right the next second that I see her meeting him in secret. Before that, I will chop his balls off," Marcus spat. 

    Quintus calmed Marcus down and the druids started the ceremony. Prayers were offered to the Lieu, God of storms and lightning, and Goddess of River Boyne. There were several other wooden idols placed under a sacred tree as the druids chanted in unison. A handfasting ritual was performed where the Druid tied a cord around our hands. A tingling sensation passed through my body the moment Marcus held my hand, causing me to tremble for a second involuntarily. When he sensed it, he gripped my hand tighter and stared at me with a burning gaze. 

    "This knot symbolizes eternity and the cycle of life." The Druid told Marcus. He probably assumed that I already knew Celtic customs.

    With our hands still tied together, we were walked down the hillfort to approach a tall holed standing stone. Our hands were untied. We stood on either side of the stone and passed our hands through the hole. My family and relatives cheered loudly when our hands met. I guess that marked the end of the ceremony. Several cases of metal were presented to the Roman family along with two dozen slaves as the bride price. Then came the armored aurochs that had me gasping. These wild cows almost seven feet tall with long pointy horns and enormous heads. I wondered if these were to fight the gladiators or for use in the battlefields instead of elephants.

    "All right! Time to feast! Let's start the bonfire." My dad announced.