The good news, I’m bringing out a print version of Druids, Celts, and Romans, 360 pages, available at the Amazon Book Store, selling for $14.99. In the coming months, a print version of five other completed-eBooks will be available on Amazon.
Therefore, I’m making a slight variation to “Coming Attractions.” Every week, one of the 25-chapters from Druids, Celts, and Romans will accompany a chapter from another book.
Druids, Celts, and Romans
In 400 BCE, the Celts and Romans were unknown to each other. To bring the Romans into the picture and make the Celts fear them, I had Master Druid Munli place Conel into a trance, to participate in the 51 BCE battle of Xellodunum, between the Celts and Julius Caesar. This is an excerpt from that encounter:
Dressed in his tattered tunic of bard blue, Danous dared to rise to his feet and speak for all the defenders of Uxellodunum. “You Julius Caesar, General of Rome, rank among the cruelest of men. Killing millions in your quest for power is an acceptable act of war, but cutting off a warrior’s hands is tantamount to issuing a criminal’s death sentence. A deformed warrior will surely die from either starvation or shame. For this terrible crime, I curse you to the depths of your soul. I predict that you will not have the honor to die a warrior’s death. Instead, you will die by a shameful act of betrayal at the hands your friends. This I, Danous, Bard of Parisii, foretell.” As he ended his stirring speech, Danous offered his hands to the Roman executioner. To show his disdain for the bard, Caesar came down and performed the despicable deed.
Conel could not remember whether he acted with courage or cowardice when his turn came, because everything became a blur. His one memory of the scene just before he held out his hands was the look of hatred on the face of Julius Caesar. Conel stared into the large black, deep-set, penetrating eyes of the general. He wondered how a small balding man with his thin, rugged face could command such allegiance from his troops.
The Civil War’s Valiant Irish
Note: This volume is segmented by year then battles or events—not chapters. This excerpt is from 1860:
Patrick Ronayne Cleburne
The six-foot-tall Cleburne knew he was hit, for his back hurt terribly. If he was going to die, he hoped he had brought along for the ride that supporter of the Know-Nothings who shot him. Looking to his side, he saw that his friend, Tom Hindman, had also gone down. Should he survive, Cleburne intended to ask W. D. Rice, Hindman’s opponent in the Senate race, if that’s the way all Know-Nothings react when losing a heated debate. These thoughts were fleeting as the images of his life, the good and the bad, flashed before him.
His failure to pass the Irish pharmacy test resulting in those miserable years spent serving in the British Army’s 41st of Foot left an imprint on his soul and a marked change in his political outlook. The anger he derived from Britain’s treatment of the Irish had been transferred to America’s domineering central government and its contempt for the Southern way of life. He had no slaves, but respected the rights of those who did. Cleburne knew the day might come when Southerners would be called upon to take up arms against their Northern brethren, but with him being wounded, it was unlikely he’d be able to participate. Looking at his friend, he wondered whether he or Tom would survive their injuries.