That summer at Caerleon was one such time. Like most Roman cities, Caerleon is built on high ground near the banks of a river, with a massive fortress at its heart. Once Legionnaires had marched through the gates and down the paved Roads, past the taverns and shops, baths and amphitheater that cluster outside the walls of the fort. Now the inhabitants speak more Celtic than Latin, while thatched round-houses and the huts of newcomers sprawl higgledy-piggledy in the shadow of the fortress walls. Yet even during the Time of Troubles, after the Legions had left and tyrants ruled the land, the people looked at the ruins of their Imperial buildings and remembered grander days. So when Merlin declared that Arthur Pendragon would be the king to heal the wounds left by so much civil strife, the natives of Caerleon took him to their heart. It was here he was crowned, here we had held the first Round Table—albeit inadvertently—and here we had come again to celebrate Lammas and hold a tournament.
What do You think about Guinevere: The Legend In Autumn?
