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To His Imperial Majesty,
A week had passed in prison. Every day I received bread and water, but my pleas were never answered. Nenet visited me often, sometimes bringing me nuts or grapes. My cell was small. Day and night, I looked out the only opening and waited. And observed. I had already figured out that my captors were Gauls, and I was in their village called Celtica. It was an intriguing place. I could see a house, two floors tall, built with stone and reinforced with wood. The roof was made of straw. Outside this house were several large rocks, and a craftsman was chipping away at them to make bust sculptures and other objects.
There was another building I could see from my cell. It was round with a thatched roof and a chimney. An open space in front of the building was walled off. Many small items were lying around, including saws, ropes and metal chains. The Gauls struck me as very skilled stonemasons. They also seemed like they were constantly worried about intruders.
Guards walked past my window sometimes. One of them still had my bag with my belongings. I needed my diary back. One morning, I was given bread and water when a breeze drifted through the window. With that breeze came frenzied shouts about an invasion. The man in front of me dropped the plate and ran outside. The door was left open. While this seemed like a gift from heaven, at the same time I knew that it might lead to a fate even worse than my current predicament. I slowly walked to the edge of my cell and peaked around the corner. Nobody was within sight. Just a door leading outside.
I approached the door and opened it. The whole town was agitated. Traps were hidden in strategic positions. Small rock formations on the ground were opened to reveal a hideout for valuable goods. Resources were quickly thrown inside. I noticed the soldier carrying my bag. I immediately began to follow him but people running in all directions made it difficult. Somebody knocked me over. By the time I got up, I had lost sight of my target. Nenet cawed. He had been following him in the air.
I paced past a formation of tents. Soldiers came running out, arming themselves with spears and shields that were stacked there. Their leader, tall and with a mighty mustache, barked some orders. Warriors on horses rode past. I was worried about being noticed, but everybody's attention was firmly ahead. I reached a large opening where most of the soldiers were gathering. I finally saw the man again. But he was no longer carrying my bag.
I stayed back and began scanning the place for my belongings, when shouts arose about the enemy's arrival. Foreigners. A whole army of horse riders. The leader of the Gauls gave his final command. Everybody braced for impact.
The Huns were coming.