THE WHICKER MAN.

THE long day was dying and the battle was over.  A proud Roman Legion lay destroyed and dying in the dense forest.  The tribal chief had realised that his wild tribesmen could never defeat trained disciplined Roman soldiers on the open plain.  So he had enticed the legion into the woods, where the dense undergrowth had quickly broken their cohesion.  They began to break up into smaller groups which the tribesmen had slaughtered in detail.

The warriors were hunting down the surviving legionaries and massacring them, when the Shaman stopped them.  He ordered the warriors to construct a giant whicker man in which the prisoners were placed.  The Shaman set it ablaze.

Many of the Romans began to scream.  However the chieftain was watching the legate high up in the effigy.  He was a middle-aged man with a perfectly expressionless face.  His expression of scorn never changed as the flames began licking at his lower limbs.

He was still looking directly at the chieftain and shaman when the flames burnt through his legs and he dropped into the inferno.

At that moment the chieftain felt the icy hand of fear grip him.  He had destroyed a legion, but he knew that he could never defeat Rome.  Rome might fall one day, but the Idea of Rome would never die.

The legate had been a man of iron as were many of his colleagues.  These men might be killed but they could never be defeated.  Through them the Spirit of Rome and what it represented would live forever and influence the world through all eternity.

He realised that Rome was not a city but an idea that was well-served by these men of iron who had delivered the world’s greatest empire to the People and Senate of Rome.