Prologue: Andraste’s Daughter (part 2)
If only the feasting hall was not surrounded by Roman soldiers, Boudica would have taught this Roman fool a lesson he would have remembered for the rest of his short life! Boudica left the feasting hall, feeling the hungry eyes of Catus Decianus watching her. Suddenly, he appeared in her room, walking unsteadily and setting down a tankard on a table. When he put a greasy hand on her shoulder and tried to remove her fine blue cloak, she slapped his face, hard. He staggered, looking dazed. She had thought that she could get out and find her guards. If she could just start to run, he was in no condition to catch her. But, as she turned to escape, he grabbed her cloak and knocked her to the floor.
When men came, they were Roman soldiers, not Iceni guards. They had tied her hands, removed her cloak and her long tunic. They had beaten her until blood ran down her back and then left her, as if she did not matter. They had taken her daughters, whose innocence and youth did not protect them. Boudica blinked back the tears and clenched her fists more tightly, digging her nails into the palms of her hands. If only she had foreseen these events. How could she not have known that the Romans could not be trusted? The years of peace had made her soft and her tribe vulnerable to these Roman hawks.
Boudica brought her mind back to the present moment and the forest around her. Blaming herself for past mistakes would not help. She saw a hare which, startled, fled further into the forest. On impulse, Boudica ran swiftly after the hare, scattering fallen autumn leaves with her feet as she ran. For just a moment, she felt free, like a child, again. If only she could keep running, leaving far behind the Iceni lands which the Romans had taken and the suffering of her people. If only she could run fast enough, perhaps she could leave it all behind and start anew, somewhere else.
Suddenly, the hare vanished. Had it hidden behind a tree? A woman, a stranger dressed in a fine cloak and long tunic like an Iceni princess, strode into view from the place where the hare had disappeared. The women’s features looked familiar. Looking at her face, Boudica felt as if she was staring into a clear pool, seeing her own reflection. Could this vision be some trick of the light?
But the woman was real and she spoke. “My daughter, we meet at last. I am Andraste, war goddess of the Iceni, and we have much to discuss. It is time for you to stop running from your Roman foes. It is time to realise that they are hares and foxes trying to rule over dogs and wolves.”
Boudica’s heart beat quickly and her face shone as she beheld her mother. But still she doubted. “My mother, it would make my heart glad to defeat the Romans. But they are strong. Their Ninth Legion is in Camulodunum, the city which once belonged to my father-“
“Are they? Truly? All of them?” asked Andraste.
Boudica thought for a moment. “Some of the Ninth Legion are in the city. But many of the Legion’s soldiers are scattered, in small forts and towns all over eastern Britain. They are confident, too confident.” She thought some more. “They have reason to be confident. No one tribe can defeat them – the Romans proved that when they took Camulodunum from the Catuvellauni tribe.”
“Do the Iceni need to fight alone?” asked Andraste.
Boudica thought quickly. “No – the Catuvellauni resent losing Camulodunum to the Romans. They will support us. My father’s people, the Trinovantes, will fight with the Iceni. With three tribes, we can win.”
“When you go to Camulodunum, my strength will be with you. When you take back the city where you were born, will you do something for me?” asked Andraste.
“Of course, mother,” replied Boudica.
Andraste said, “The Romans have built a temple to their god, Claudius, in Camulodunum. Burn it. Without the temple of their god, their will to resist will be weaker. With my strength running through you, my daughter, no Roman soldier will take your life. You will lead your people to take back Camulodonum!”
Boudica and her mother hunted together and talked long into the night. Late that night, as they stretched their hands out to feel the warmth of a small fire, Boudica asked her mother if she had any brothers or sisters.
“Not in this world, my daughter,” replied Andraste.
“What do you mean? There are other worlds?” asked Boudica.
“Walk with me and I will show you,” replied Andraste.
Andraste led Boudica deeper into the forest. Looking up, Boudica was startled to see the stars appearing to blur. Now the stars were in different places in the sky. Boudica was startled to hear the crunch of snow under her feet. A moment before, she had been walking through the fallen leaves of autumn.
“The stars seem to have moved in the sky and we are walking on snow, but before we were walking on fallen leaves,” said Boudica, “what happened? Am I dreaming?”
“This is no dream. We are in a different world,” replied Andraste. “In this world, Rome is still in the far distance, one city-state among others. Rome might become a mighty empire and take over Iceni lands, as happened in your world, or it might not.”
They reached the edge of the forest. Andraste pointed, “Over there! An Iceni army is marching.”
“They have the look of farmers, not warriors. This must be a small raiding-party, not an army. They have no chariots or swordsmen – only spearman and slingers,” said Boudica.
“These Iceni are not the tribe you know. We have not only travelled to a different world. We are also in the past, many generations before you were born.”
“Where are they going?” asked Boudica.
“We will soon meet my son, he can tell you. He is riding through the forest on his way to meet the Iceni commander. Would you like to meet him?” said Andraste.
Boudica nodded, “Can I warn him of the rise of the Roman Empire? Could the Iceni of this world choose a different path and avoid the Roman occupation?”
Andraste smiled, “You can tell him. Perhaps the Iceni of this world will listen. They will make their own choices and so will the Romans of this world.”
They found a small town further along the edge of the forest. A group of armed riders were riding into the settlement; their leader wore a fine red cloak.
When Andraste called out, the leader of the riders lifted his arm, signalling his men to halt, dismounted and greeted his mother. Boudica saw a dark bird in the sky above the riders, a raven or crow. Perhaps this was a bad omen for the red-cloaked man?