I wish to save what is left of the corn from the millstones . But you shoot us Picts when we come to borrow a little iron from the Iron Ditch ; you burn our heather , which is all our crop ; you trouble us with your great catapults . Then you hide behind the Wall , and scorch us with Greek fire . How can I keep my young men from listening to the Winged Hats -- in winter especially , when we are hungry ? My young men will say , ` Rome can neither fight nor rule . She is taking her men out of Britain . The Winged Hats will help us to push down the Wall . Let us show them the secret roads across the bogs . ' Do I want that ? No ! '' He spat like an adder . `` I would keep the secrets of my people though I were burned alive . My two children here have spoken truth . Leave us Picts alone . Comfort us , and cherish us , and feed us from far off -- with the hand behind the back . Parnesius understands us . Let him have rule on the Wall , and I will hold my young men quiet for '' -- he ticked it off on his fingers -- `` one year easily : the next year not so easily : the third year , perhaps ! See , I give you three years . If then you do not show us that Rome is strong in men and terrible in arms , the Winged Hats , I tell you , will sweep down the Wall from either sea till they meet in the middle , and you will go . I shall not grieve over that , but well I know tribe never helps tribe except for one price .
We XXXXX will go too .
Ditch Hats Picts Rome Wall bogs burn fire left year