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the cities of our land are not populated even now as they once were; right to
the present they are deserted, in ruins and unkempt. External wars may have
stopped, but not civil ones. For the remembrance of so desperate a blow to the
island and of such unlooked for recovery stuck in the minds of those who
witnessed both wonders. That was why kings, public and private persons, priests
and clergymen kept to their own stations. But they died; and an age succeeded
them that is ignorant of that storm and has experience only of the calm of the
present. All the controls of truth and justice have been shaken and overthrown,
leaving no trace, not even a memory, among the orders I have mentioned: with the
exception of a few, a very few.
Britain has kings, but they are tyrants; she has judges, but they are wicked. They often plunder and terrorize -the innocent; they defend and protect -the guilty and thieving; they have many wives -whores and adulteresses; they constantly swear -false oaths; they make vows -but almost at once tell lies; they wage wars -civil and unjust; they chase thieves energetically all over the country, but love and even reward the thieves who sit with them at table; they distribute alms profusely, but pile up an immense mountain of crime for all to see; they take their seats as judges, but rarely seek out the rules of right judgement; they despise the harmless and humble, but exalt to the stars, so far as they can, their military companions, bloody, proud and murderous men, adulterers and enemies of God -if chance, as they say, so allows: men who should have been rooted out vigorously, name and all.
Our Corespondent, Gildas
Vortipur of Devet has reportedly sworn an Oath of Fielty to Arthur, Dux Britanorium. There is talk of a strengthening the alliance further by marriage. Vortipor's son Vortiporus, now 21 years old has been linked with Arthur's daughter Rosenwyn, now only 11, but marriageable in a few years time nonetheless.
Couriers have been busy back and forth from his stronghold at Caerleon. Vortipor has been in vigorous communication with all his Celtic neighbours, pressing Arthur's cause it seems.
Our Diplomatic Corespondent
Widespread was the carnage and deep the woe, widows wept and coward's cursed, when Aelfhead Ludican's son led raiders of the North Folke deep into Cambridgeshire, wherin they united with the Lindiswarras of Aesric son of Osgod. They despoiled not the lands of Thegn Offa, but heavy fell their hand on the Villas of the Waelas. Aelfhead gained great fame and renown as he led the rievers home victorious, replete with the cattle and wailing daughters of their foes. Great was the rejoicing in the Hall of Arnwulf, the Kynge as they feasted on the spoils of the foray.
The North ablaze as raiders spill out of Rheget. Dubhslain the Hardy well earned his name, as he drove his men through the Winter weather into Northumberland. Many were the head of cattle that his heroes drove home. Daffyd the Strong led the spears of Westmoreland south into unhappy Lancashire, the land of his King's cousin ! Where now burn the funeral pyres of the slain.
Pleasant Gloucestershire felt the edge of the Saex, as Aetheling Sigered led the men of the West Saex in a Winter's raid, deep into their lands. Well did Cerdic the Kynge feast his lips on the fatted hogs of Guent and his eyes on her captive daughters. Hail and Wassail the plunder of fair Gloucester, was the cry of the Hall at Reading.
Poor unhappy Radnor, as the Winter's sparse frosted grass fell crushed under the hooves of faceless riders. No man of name led the host, and none of name lamented their passing, but many a nameless man lies bleeding, many a shipon emptied of its precious herd, many an unsung wife widowed and weeping for her unknown bairns. Hushed voices speak in whispers of dimly glimpsed shields. The colours of Cereticiaun bring a chiller air still to Poor unhappy Radnor.
Alpin MacMaelcon's name is toasted in mulled meade throughout the lands of Drust Skullcrusher. In depth of Winter, this stalwart strode through the glens of Angus, deep in the mountains of his foe, deep in their anguish and their gore. And the mighty White Bull of Angus brought he home to his Lord's Hall.
Songs of the Red Warboat hushed the revellers in the Halls of Cormac MacAirt, as his brother Minstrel told of Risderd's daring Winter voyage to the Solway Firth.. Many were the maidens of Rheget torn from the bosoms of their families to skim the main on their way northward to Airgiola. The men of Rheget stand aghast in wonder at this affrontery.
Pius Gildas, Honest Gildas, Alas, he speaks true...
Our Military Corespondent