After more than four hundred years of Roman rule, the island its conquerors called Britannia was abandoned―left to its own devices as the Roman empire contracted in a futile effort to defend itself from the barbarian hordes encroaching upon its heart. As Britannia falls into anarchy and the city of Viroconium is left undefended, two cousins who remained behind when the imperial forces withdrew pursue very different courses in the ensuing struggle to unite the disparate tribes and factions throughout the land. Passionate, adventurous Dinas recruits followers and dreams of kingship. Thoughtful Cadogan saves a group of citizens when Saxons invade and burn Viroconium, then becomes the reluctant founder and leader of a new community that rises in the wilderness. The two cousins could not be more different, but their parallel stories encapsulate the era of a new civilization struggling to be born. As the Roman Empire fractures and crumbles, the island of Britannia is abandoned by its conquerors, who leave a roiling political and social vacuum in their wake. It takes extraordinary men and women to forge a new civilization out of the chaos, and cousins Dinas and Cadogan rise to the challenge. Though the two men couldn’t be more different and each pursues a different path toward the ultimate goal, their parallel stories illuminate the dark days of this transition period. As mercurial Dinas chases far-flung dreams of glory, staid Cadogan lays the foundation for a new community. Fifth-century Britain provides a suitably murky backdrop as a fledgling civilization struggles to rise from the ashes. The stage seems set for a possible sequel as the masterful Llywelyn moves across the Irish Sea, turning her talent for historical detailing to ancient England and Wales. --Margaret Flanagan “[Llywelyn's] characters spring instantly to life and the reader remains captivated from first page to last.” ― Jean M. Auel, author of The Shelters of Stone “Morgan Llywelyn writes about ancient Ireland as if she just had breakfast there.” ― Parke Godwin, author of Beloved Exile “One of the finest historical novels of the decade.” ― New Hampshire Sunday News on Druids “Ms. Llywelyn masterfully brings both sides of the Celtic coin to life.” ― The Baltimore Sun on Red Branch New York Times bestselling author Morgan Llywelyn is the winner 1983 RT Times Award for Historical Novel of the Year ( The Horse Goddess ). She lives near Dublin, Ireland. After Rome A Novel of Celtic Britain By Morgan Llywelyn Forge Books Copyright © 2013 Morgan Llywelyn All right reserved. ISBN: 9780765331236 CHAPTER ONE     Dark. The moon is dark; the stars are smothered by clouds. Autumn is upon us now. This morning the rain rushed down the hills like silver snakes, yet nothing is moving tonight. Even the mice and moles cower in their burrows. The earth holds her breath as if waiting for disaster, but the disaster has already happened. Civilization has collapsed. Lucius Plautius, who studied with the Athenians, would say I am suffering from depression. He could be right. Dinas, who laughs at everything, would say there is no such thing as depression. He could be right. *   *   * Cadogan leaned his shoulder against the door, braced his feet and shoved again. Nothing happened. The oak planks did not even creak. The door was like the woman on the other side. Obdurate. The woman who had slid the bolt across the door. There was no other way in. The walls were constructed of solid logs. The few windows provided ventilation and a modicum of light, but they were too narrow to admit an intruder. In cold weather they were shuttered with two planks. Cadogan stepped away from the door and rubbed his shoulder. He was weary to the bone. He had been riding for most of the night. Alternately trotting and cantering through the haunted darkness, up and down hills, splashing through streams, dodging trees at the last moment only to be slashed by low hanging branches. Trusting his horse to take him home. To sanctuary. In years gone by a traveler might have found a comfortable inn along the way. In such an establishment Cadogan would have enjoyed an ample meal and a flagon of the local brew while the hosteler rubbed down the bay mare and gave her a heaping measure of oats. A few coins more would have purchased a dry bed for himself—with a minimum of fleas—so he could resume his journey in the morning feeling refreshed. There were no comfortable inns anymore. No lantern’s gleam to welcome weary travelers. Windows were shuttered if any shutters remained. Doors sagged from rusting hinges; arrogant weeds thrust through floorboards. Business was very bad indeed. The bay mare would have no oats tonight. Cadogan had removed her saddle and bridle and turned her loose to graze, knowing she would not wander far. She was too old and too wise to stray. This was the only home she had known for two years and she was content. He could hear her tearing up mouthfuls of dry grass. C