Caradoc sent scouts to watch the coast, and the winter plodded on. “How do we know which part of the coast to observe?” Togodumnus had asked him, but Caradoc knew. The Romans would land where Julius Caesar had landed, on the Cantiacan peninsula, and he sent emissaries to the Cantiaci, requesting a joint Council. He also sent men to all the other tribes while the moon waxed and waned, and the rain gave way to hard frosts. Togodumnus went to bed each night with his hut surrounded by sleepless, armed chiefs. He was taking no chances and was quite open in his mistrust, but Caradoc made no move against him. All his thoughts, all his will, were bent on the clash with Rome that he knew would come, and he had no time or inclination to cross swords or hard words with his brother. He ordered regular sword practice for the women, and once more Eurgain and Gladys sparred on the frozen earth, weighed down by the shields he insisted they carry. Llyn was nine now, a short, sturdy boy, and Caradoc ordered Cinnamus to give him a sword of iron.
