The Massacre of the Groves

Seutonius slays the Druids on the Isle of Mona

The druids and banfaiths had fled
their homes in Somerset’s lush fields and woods
to escape the violence of Rome’s rule
Caesar’s hatred of the Bardic order ran deep
for the druids balanced the power of the kingdom
in their lyres
just as the banfaiths held the nation’s future
in their far-seen, star-studded eyes.

The Romans pursued them
to the Sacred Isle, where an assembly
of druids gathered to scry the groaning of the wheel.
The banfaiths, seers, the crones
sang to summon the spirits of the sacred groves
and the waters pounding the coves
calling up fury and fire for the enslavement
of their daughters and sons
over deep cauldrons
while the druids crossed their wands
around the stone circles and chanted
to summon justice, and courage.

Taleisin climbed the high sacred mound
and held his staff high, warding off
the Cythrawl’s impending chaos
even if for a moment.

When the Roman army reached the island’s shore
and assembled themselves in ranks
they gazed into the forest, and felt fear.

A a wall of women, black robes loose,
iron hair unbraided and streaming,
brandishing fire and screaming
to raise the Underworld;
the druids followed close behind
palms upturned, faces uplifted,
eyes white, voices bellowing
mantras of fierce protection.

The soldiers loosened their swords’ grip
and stepped backwards
awash in terror
as they faced the gods of the forest, air, and sea.

“Don’t let a few old priests and women scare you, lads,”
said Seutonius,
and charged his men into the slaughter.

They cut the women’s throats
and brandished their torches back at them
lighting their hair and robes on fire;
the druids they hew down as they stood
cutting off their manhood,
and stuffing their mouths with their own
flesh as they gasped for death.

Taleisin the soldiers found dead,
crumpled and ashen, his staff clutched
upwards, still, to the starless sky.

When the rebels were all dead or captured
Seutonius ordered the sacred groves cleared
the ancient trees burned,
and the sacred altars defiled
with the blood of imprisoned druids,
their entrails cast upon the stones
for the Roman soldiers to scry to their foreign gods.

When at last Seutonius and his war
pigs were satiated in their bloodlust
and they made camp to celebrate,
a sentry landed on shore
with an urgent message
from the main island:

ROMAN CITIZENS UNDER SEIGE
ICENI WOMAN HAS INCITED REVOLT
LONDINIUM IS BURNING.