The Wrath of Boudicca Page 2

  ‘Then perhaps it is better to do as the Cornovii and bend our knee.’

  ‘Every minute of freedom is precious,’ said Prydain, ‘and is worth fighting for. I have seen how Rome treats its slaves and I would not wish it on anyone.’

  ‘Yet we too have slaves,’ said Kegan.

  ‘Our lowest slaves are treated as Kings compared to those of the Romans,’ said Prydain.

  ‘Do you miss your former life as a Roman?’ asked Kegan.

  ‘I never was a Roman,’ answered Prydain, ‘I just grew up there. Once I learned my true heritage, then I knew where I belonged.’

  ‘But you spent your childhood there, surely there is something you miss?’

  ‘I miss the warmth of the sun,’ said Prydain, ‘and sometimes as a child, I swam in the sea near my master’s farm. I can tell you, Kegan, there is no comparison between the seas of Rome and the seas of Britannia.’

  ‘I do not see the attraction of swimming in any water,’ said Kegan. ‘That is for the fishes.’

  ‘All Roman soldiers can swim,’ said Prydain, ‘it is part of their training.’

  ‘I hear you killed your father,’ said Kegan quietly.

  Prydain glanced over.

  ‘He was no father to me,’ he answered quietly before leaning over to throw some extra wood on the fire. ‘He was simply the man who raped my mother. As far as I am concerned, my father was a man called Karim, a Gladiator who saved me from death in the arena when I was a baby. He was more of a father than my true father could ever be.’

  ‘Is Karim still alive?’ asked Kegan.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Prydain. ‘I haven’t seen him for almost twenty years. If he is, he is an old man by now.’

  They fell quiet for a few moments as Kegan allowed Prydain his memories.

  ‘Tell me, Prydain,’ said Kegan eventually. ‘Why is it you haven’t taken a wife in all these years?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Prydain. ‘There have been several women through the years but none that I wanted to build a home with.’

  ‘A man needs a woman to keep him warm as he gets old,’ said Kegan.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Prydain, ‘and there is still time for me but until then, there are women a plenty to fulfil my needs in the bed furs.’

  ‘Whores and slaves are fine for fire,’ said Kegan, ‘but short on warmth, I have found.’

  Prydain laughed.

  ‘Kegan, since when have you worried about my marital comfort?’

  ‘It has been on my mind often these past few months,’ said Kegan. ‘I am getting old and fear this will be my last winter. If the gods see fit to take me to their fireside, then I see no better man to lead this clan than you.’

  Prydain paused and stared at Kegan for several moments.

  ‘I am honoured,’ he said eventually, ‘but you will outlive us all.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ smiled Kegan, ‘but these things must be talked about. If you are agreeable, I will decree you as my successor and seek the approval of the elders. I do not think there will be objection though it would smooth the way if you had a woman at your side.’

  ‘Ah, hence the talk,’ laughed Prydain. ‘So why can’t a warrior clan be led by a single man?’

  ‘We are indeed a warrior clan,’ agreed Kegan, ‘but value the family. It would be better to be led by a man with similar values.’

  ‘Well,’ said Prydain, standing up. ‘I am honoured to be considered but can’t promise to find a woman just to achieve the position.’

  ‘And I do not expect you to,’ said Kegan, himself standing up. ‘All I am saying is don’t be so quick to push them from your furs in the mornings. Perhaps one of them may be worth keeping.’

  Prydain smiled.

  ‘I will take on board your thoughts, Kegan but until then, I will continue to share the single men’s longhouse. Now I will go to my bed before you start talking about children.’

  ‘One step at a time, Prydain,’ laughed Kegan, ‘but that is a conversation my wife is waiting to have with you.’

  Both men laughed and grabbed each other’s forearms in friendship.

  ‘Until the morrow, Kegan,’ said Prydain. ‘Perhaps we can hunt fox together.’

  ‘I fear my hunting days are done, Prydain but you are always welcome here. Sleep well.’

  Prydain left the hut and walked through the dark village thinking about the conversation with Kegan. Although he had been with the Silures for almost sixteen years and was a blood relation of their leader Hawkwing, his Roman upbringing was always in the background and meant he was never fully accepted. Perhaps this would be a way of finally getting that acceptance. As he neared the single men’s hut, the sounds of drunken revelry got louder and he sighed as he realised it was going to be a long night.

  ----

  Chapter Two

  The Lands of the Iceni

  Britannia - 60AD

  Rianna couldn’t remember her mother, for she had died from the cough when Rianna was very young. Her father too was nothing more to her than a story told by others as he had been killed in a conflict between clans before she had been born. Such orphaned children were usually looked after by any surviving family but in Rianna’s case there had been none, so the six year old child’s fate had been unclear. However, the gods had been kind for in her few years as a carefree child, she had befriended another little girl and every day they played the games of children in the dust of the Trinovantian village. Even at six years old, it was obvious they would be lifelong friends and the village soon became used to seeing them side by side, Rianna’s jet black hair a sharp contrast to the fiery red locks of her little friend, Boudicca.

  When Rianna was orphaned, Boudicca beseeched her mother to help and they took Rianna into the King’s household, essentially as a servant but within weeks she had become part of the family.

  Subsequently they had grown up together as sisters, even attending the warrior training that every Trinovantian undertook, male or female and despite their different heritage, this was where Rianna excelled.

  Even at fifteen, Rianna could match many men with a sword and was a better rider than most. Her temper was fiery and despite many young men’s attempts to woo her, she remained staunchly independent, deciding that her fate lay in her own hands and would never be decided by any man.

  Both girls had become inseparable so on Boudicca’s fifteenth birthday, when the whole of the Trinovantes lined the dirt road to say goodbye to their warrior princess, Rianna rode beside her as servant, confidante and lifelong friend. That had been fifteen years earlier and now they were just as close as ever.

  ----

  ‘Do you remember the day we arrived here?’ asked Rianna as the two women sat on the riverbank, dangling their feet into the cool clear water.

  ‘Like it was yesterday,’ said Boudicca. ‘Who’d have believed it was fifteen summers ago?’

  ‘I bet Prasatagus remembers it,’ laughed Rianna. ‘The entire village lined up at the gates with flags and banners to welcome his gentle bride and we galloped in from the other direction covered in dust and sweating like oarsmen.’

  Boudicca laughed at the memory.

  ‘I can see his face now,’ she said, ‘he was furious.’

  ‘Well, you have to let them know where they stand,’ laughed Rianna.

  ‘We fought like cat and dog for the first few weeks,’ said Boudicca.

  ‘I know,’ said Rianna. ‘I used to cry myself to sleep at the sound of your weeping and often the guards had to hold me back from running in with my blade.’

  ‘It wasn’t so bad,’ smiled Boudicca, ‘and anyway, the making up was always the best bit.’

  ‘I heard that as well,’ said Rianna with a smile, ‘in fact half the village did.’

  ‘Rianna,’ shouted Boudicca, punching her friend on her shoulder, ‘you never said so.’

  ‘Well we couldn’t help it,’ laughed Rianna, ‘you are a bit, shall we say, vocal?’

  ‘Oh no,’ gasped Boudicca in
mock shame, ‘how can I ever face the village again?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ laughed Rianna, ‘we’re used to it now.’

  ‘Rianna, stop it,’ laughed Boudicca, ‘you make me sound like the whores at the slave markets.’

  ‘Well, it has been said,’ replied Rianna.

  Boudicca squealed and pounced on her friend, laughing hysterically as they wrestled in the spring grass. Finally they both lay on their backs looking up at the passing clouds.

  ‘He’s a good man you know,’ said Boudicca.

  ‘Who?’ asked Rianna.

  ‘Prasatagus.’

  ‘I know,’ answered Rianna.

  Boudicca turned to face her, propping herself up on her elbow.

  ‘You don’t like the way he deals with the Romans do you?’

  ‘He is my King, Boudicca as you are my Queen. It is not for the likes of me to question the decisions of such people.’

  ‘Oh stop the King and Queen nonsense,’ said Boudicca, ‘and talk to me as a friend. These past few months I have seen you fret more than I ever have.’

  Rianna sat up and turned to face her friend.

  ‘Boudicca,’ she said, ‘it is obvious to all that Prasatagus is not well.’

  Boudicca’s face dropped slightly.

  ‘It is but a passing illness,’ she said, ‘and he will get better soon.’

  ‘And I hope he does,’ said Rianna, ‘I really do, but what if he doesn’t? What if he is summoned to meet his gods and leaves you and the girls to deal with the Romans on your own?’

  Boudicca’s features softened at the mention of her children. She had borne Prasatagus two daughters soon after the ceremony and they had quickly become adored by all in the Iceni. Proud and stubborn like their mother, yet intelligent and fair of face like their father.

  ‘Rianna, you know we have an arrangement with Rome,’ she said.

  ‘A Roman’s words mean nothing,’ said Rianna.

  ‘Catus Decianus is the Procurator,’ said Boudicca, ‘and his word is true. Since we rallied against Scapula thirteen summers ago, Rome has feared the strength of the Iceni and has paid us a fortune in gold to buy our peace. In return we provide them with supplies and guarantee them safe passage through our lands. Why would they change this agreement now?’

  Rianna grabbed Boudicca’s hand in hers.

  ‘Because if Prasatagus dies,’ she said, ‘then they could take the chance to change it in their favour.’

  ‘Rianna,’ answered Boudicca, ‘I appreciate your concern but in the event of his death, the King has made arrangements to appease the Romans. He has paid one of their scribes to write a testament leaving half of our Kingdom to Rome whilst leaving the remainder to me and his daughters. The Romans place great store in such things and they will be grateful for our continued alliance.’

  ‘Boudicca,’ said Rianna, ‘all I am saying is to be careful. The Romans do not recognise women as leaders, only men.’

  ‘I have met Decianus on several occasions’ said Boudicca ‘and he recognises our sovereignty. Fret not, Rianna. Our people are fed, our weapons show rust from little use and our children laugh in freedom each day. We may not like the fact the Romans are here, but we lost the chance to drive them out when Caratacus faced him alone at Caer Caradog and no other tribes rallied to his call. All we can do now is live life the best we can and look after our own people.’

  A voice echoed on the breeze and both women turned to see who called.

  ‘It’s Lannosea,’ said Boudicca referring to her youngest daughter. She stood up and walked up the slopes of the riverbank to see the twelve year old, running across the pasture toward her.

  ‘Mother,’ called Lannosea, ‘come quickly, it’s father.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ shouted Boudicca, breaking into a run.

  ‘He has collapsed,’ shouted Lannosea through her tears, ‘and calls your name in pain.’

  Boudicca looked over toward Rianna, a look of devastation on her face.

  ‘Go,’ shouted Rianna, ‘I’ll look after Lannosea. We’ll catch up with you.’

  Boudicca ran to her horse and within seconds she was galloping across the plain, her long red hair blowing behind her like the flames of a fire. Rianna ran up to Lannosea and put her arms around the sobbing girl.

  ‘Don’t worry, child,’ she said, ‘Prasatagus is a fighter and he has suffered worse before.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Rianna,’ sobbed the girl, ‘I have never seen him look so ill. I think he is dying.’

  Rianna tightened her grip and held the young girl until she stopped crying. Finally she eased Lannosea away from her.

  ‘Where’s Heanua?’ asked Rianna gently, referring to Lannosea’s fourteen year old sister.

  ‘She’s out riding,’ said Lannosea. ‘I know not where but father’s servants have sent riders looking.’

  ‘Right,’ said, Rianna. ‘Let’s get those tears dried and get back to the village. Your mother will need you at her side.’

  Lannosea nodded and wiped the tears away with the heel of her hand.

  ‘There’s only one horse,’ she said her voice still shaking.

  ‘And he is as strong as an ox,’ said Rianna. ‘Come on, let’s get going.’

  Within moments both women were astride Rianna’s horse and following in Boudicca’s wake, both unaware that their lives had just changed forever.

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  Boudicca sat on the rocky escarpment, looking out over the lands of the Iceni. On a nearby hill was the fort they would use in times of conflict should they ever come under attack and in the valley below lay the village where she and Prasatagus had brought up their children in safety. Beyond that lay the rolling hills of the Iceni, the bountiful land that fed their tribe and provided safety for her people. Though born into the Trinovantes, she had been embraced by these people and now considered herself Iceni through and through. Behind her, the grass on the top of the hill was a little greener than that on its slopes, benefitting from the regrowth after the inferno of her husband’s funeral pyre six weeks earlier.

  The ashes had been blown away by the wind and any remnants of firewood or human flesh had been collected up and cast into the holy waters of the river, as was their way, leaving no memory of the great King who had once ruled these lands.

  The past few weeks had been a blur for Boudicca. Her grief was profound but her people looked to her for leadership and she knew she had to be strong. Since Prasatagus’ heart had given out, her days had been filled receiving tribute from the hundreds of smaller clans who made up the great Iceni. Riders from miles around poured into the valley for the funerary rights and even her ailing father had made the tiring journey from the Trinovantes to pay his respects.

  The funeral was like nothing seen by any of those in attendance. The Pyre was constructed on the hill and three female servants hurled themselves into the flames to join their master in the afterlife if it wasn’t for her daughters, Boudicca would gladly have joined them. The flames could be seen for miles around and everyone who saw its light knew that a great King passed that day.

  It had been a hard few days but eventually the visitors had left, leaving the valley in peace once more. Life had returned to a semblance of normality and every day she rode up to the escarpment to sit and watch the sun set over the Iceni.

  On these trips, Rianna insisted on riding with her but always stayed back with the horses as Boudicca wrestled with her grief. It was on one such evening that she heard Boudicca gently call out her name.

  ‘Rianna, attend me.’

  Rianna walked over and stood alongside her friend.

  ‘It’s beautiful isn’t it?’ said Boudicca looking to the setting sun.

  ‘It is,’ said Rianna.

  Boudicca tapped the ground beside her.

  ‘Sit,’ she said. ‘Share this moment with me.’

  ‘Are you alright?’ asked Rianna as she sat.

  ‘I am,’ said Boudicca. ‘My thoughts are clearing and I wanted you to see
this.’

  Rianna looked toward the horizon and saw the distant forested hills ablaze with the red fire of the setting sun. Above them the sky faded from black to purple as the sun fought its daily battle to remain in control of the heavens, but eventually disappeared leaving only fiery reflections on the few clouds above.

  ‘I have never seen it so beautiful,’ said Rianna.

  ‘Nor have I,’ said Boudicca, ‘and that is why I will not seek out this view ever again. I think this is a sign, Rianna, a sign from Prasatagus to move on and lead our people forward. He sent this sunset to say goodbye and I think it will never be bettered.’

  Rianna sought out her friend’s hand.

  ‘I think you are right,’ she said. ‘It has the beauty of your man’s heart and it is a fitting memory to his name.’ They waited in silence as the sky darkened and only when the stars started appearing in their droves, did Boudicca stand to leave.

  ‘It is done,’ she said. ‘It is time to move on.’ She turned to Rianna. ‘Thank you for being here, Rianna. I couldn’t have got through this without you.’

  ‘I will always be at your side, Boudicca, until death itself.’

  The two women hugged before making their way to the horses. As they rode back to the village, they talked of the business of the following day.

  ‘Our scouts tell us that the delegation from Decianus is but a day’s ride away,’ said Rianna.

  ‘I am aware of their proximity,’ said Boudicca, ‘and we will greet them not as subjects but as fellow rulers.’

  ‘The way it should be,’ said Rianna before adding.’ How is your spirit, Boudicca?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Boudicca.

  ‘Does grief dampen your fire or do you still harbour the need to beat me.’

  ‘Is this a wager?’ asked Boudicca, recognising the playful challenge in her friend’s voice.

  ‘Well,’ answered Rianna, ‘you are Queen of the Iceni now. Perhaps it is time to ride in a cart?’

  ‘Not as long as I can breathe,’ laughed Boudicca.

  ‘Prove it,’ said Rianna.

  Boudicca didn’t answer but pulled up her horse to stand beside Rianna.