Our city was truly a jewel. Trade, especially that of grain, would flow through its river port like the lifeblood of a fiercely beating heart. Vast was the wealth that poured from our mines into the arms of the craftsman. It was a holy place where Druids from all across the land would convene to exchange knowledge and ideas. But nothing good can last forever.
We tried to be agreeable with the Romans when they came to trade at our docks. For years we learned their language, respected their customs, housed their legions and sent our children to their city to get Roman educations. The Romans showed little intention of ever returning the courtesy but still we tried to remain welcoming and fair. Things began to take their toll when Roman’s began to live among us and began to act as if this land was already theirs.
We had not had a king for a very long time as we had no need of them but the Roman tyrant disregarded our way of life and installed a puppet king from one of our own noble families so that he could rule us through his willing servant. This dog had no respect from the people he sought to command and we began to chafe under his reign. Three years we gave him a chance before we took his head from his shoulders, his love of his Roman masters greater than his love for his own people. With this death, the Romans showed us who they really were. A Roman was sent to our city to ensure that grain still flowed down our river to supply their army, we could not allow this blatant disrespect to go unpunished. The bastards should have learned when we executed the false king that we will not be ruled by anyone.
The ripples of our actions where felt much further than our city. A neighbouring tribe had attempted to remove their own puppet king but the coward fled into the arms of the Romans. The man who led this revolt was brutally slaughtered by Caesar who hoped to set an example of what fate awaited any who rebelled. Contrary to his intentions, this only stoked the fires of our anger into an inferno of hate. Something had to be done.
The chiefs gathered in our sacred forests to plot our way to freedom. A spark needed to be lit that would ignite all of Gaul into revolution. Some of the chiefs wanted the reason with the Romans, others felt that all was already lost, but a few honourable men chose to fight. Of our tribe, two brave men stepped forward to lead the first attack, one that would rid our home of the Roman scourge that had plagued us for so long.
We flooded through our streets like a river swollen with rain and killed any Roman we came across. Our mission was clear, no Roman would be welcomed in Cenabon as long as we still call it home. We cared not if they were a small merchant or great general, they all fell to our swords, axes and spears. The battle cries of our people would be heard from all corners of the land and the Romans would know that war is upon them. This uprising will awaken the sleeping hearts of the other tribes and we will rise as one people to remove the enemy at our gates.
The Druids have taught us in our sacred forests that life exists after death so the only Roman steel we fear is the chains they wish to place on our necks. Even if they strike us down with their blades we will not die, we live on and be born again. So let the legions come to avenge their dead merchants, we will be ready for them. Let the tribes of Gaul unite to save our homeland from these invaders.
The uprising at Cenabum, the capital city of the Carnutes tribe, is strongly believe to be the catalyst for the Gallic Wars. There had been small revolts against the Romans prior to this but Cenabum caused waves of rebellion to spread all across Gaul until it reached Vercingetorix of the Arverni, who led a unified Gaulish army against the Roman army.
One thought on “Cenabon”
The Gallic Wars told through the eyes of the Senogalatis is so needed, and you’re doing a great job of telling their stories. It is so heartbreaking, but as the Druids tell us they will be reborn and live on as they do in your prose.
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