The Red Devil’s camp seemed an organised hub of activity, with many tents, arranged in rows, plus a pen for the horses, although some had been tethered to individual posts beside the tents. At the centre loomed a much larger and more ornate tent, flanked on either side by two tents not as large or as ornate, but still considerably more impressive than the rest.
Smoke from several fires rose into the air and emitted the aroma of cooking meat, as strong as the stink of horse manure. Men sat in threes and fours around these fires, talking and drinking and eating. Younger boys attended them with urns of what looked like wine. Other boys tended the horses. Two Red Devils leading a man in chains cut in front of them. Their prisoner looked at Brennus with eyes that said everything.
I’ll be damn
