Boadicea

CHAPTER I

A Queen is Born

(British Isles, circa A.D. 20)

A large Celtic settlement of round, pointed, thatch-topped houses, slowly emerged through the gray fog of morning. Outside of its wooden and raised earth defenses the settlement was bordered on one side, by densely clustered trees and on another, by the large river Ouse. The settlement itself, situated on top of a hill, had a commanding view of the whole surrounding countryside.

Birds chirped in the trees and from the roofs of the settlement while pigs snuffled in the muddy dirt of the compound. Cattle and sheep added their lowing and bleating to the porcine and avian chorus as they protested being rounded up by herdsmen and shepherds, to be taken outside the settlement through the large stout doors of the rath. Once outside of the confines of the settlement they were led across several earth defenses, to where they could sate their hunger on the vast and lush verdant grasslands which lay beyond large, orderly, cultivated fields of barley, rye and corn as well as rows of cabbages, onions and beets.

On the nearby flowing Ouse, scare discerned in the morning fog, small one and two men coracles bobbed as their occupants, wrapped up in warm multi-hued wool cloaks, knelt holding fishing lines or small nets, trawling the waters. An occasional floppy silver form was seen being thrown to the back of the coracles by the fishermen lucky enough to make a catch.

The stout doors of the rath stayed open as the night guards returned from their vigil, some running on foot while several others rode on horseback and all entered the compound to warm their gelid limbs and assuage their hunger pangs.

As the night guards entered the day guards waited to exit while their commanders exchanged words. All being well the day guards exited and dispersed to their various look out positions. Though well armed and wearing their thick wool cloaks to guard against the nip of the morning air the day guards would also serve to alert the compound of any friendly visitors or traders approaching as well as to warn of any unwelcome or unknown strangers or warriors. For this, several of the guards were seen to have a long metal carynx, which ended in the mythical shape of a dragon-like head, strapped to their backs, next to their quivers.

A strong wind started up, making leaves dance along the ground and the crops in the cultivated fields sway as though they too danced. Dogs sniffed at the air which was redolent with the salty smell of the sea, not far off to the east and brought in on the wind, as were cooking aromas emanating from cauldrons simmering over open fires.

The houses of the settlement, with their sharply pointed roofs resting on ash rafters which, in turn, were supported on stout posts, their exterior walls of hazel wattle covered with daub, were massed together as though seeking comfort from one another’s close proximity. Smoke filtered out through the bundles of rye stalks, that made up the thatch tops, mingling and becoming one with the early morning fog.

Lean-tos and animal enclosures were filled with snorting, grunting, squealing and seemingly protesting animals of all kinds as shepherds and goatherds, as well as horse handlers and cow herders went about trying to gather their charges and goad them outside of the settlement for their daily outings.

Into the confusion rode the night guards who swiftly dismounted and led their mounts over to the stable yard where they each saw to their own horse as a matter of pride. Laughing and chatting they had soon wiped down their mounts with handfuls of straw and seen that they had plenty to eat and fresh buckets of water, before they sauntered over to the young unmarried warriors’ quarters to eat a hearty breakfast, and were joined by the foot guards who arrived later somewhat out of breath.

Finally, after eating and drinking their fill, the young men and women would all get some well deserved sleep.

Other horses were being led outside to the rich pastures bordering the settlement, their manes and tails tossed this way and that by the wind as they were let loose to gambol and eat the lush dew bedecked grasses. The herdsmen, shepherds and goatherds, holding their woollen cloaks to their bodies guarding them against the cold nip of the wind, stood, leaning on their staffs and crooks, watching their charges of cattle, goats and sheep also enjoying the lush verdant grasses and who seemed unfazed by the now gusting wind and prancing horses.

Groups of men, women and children, made their way out of the settlement to the cultivated fields, holding hoes and rakes over their shoulders, as well as baskets in which to place any root vegetables mature enough to be harvested, while others made their way to the apple grove to pick the ripened fruit which would not only be used for eating and cooking but also to make the strong cider brew that all Celts loved.

Back in the compound, outside many of the houses, ornately decorated chariots stood, their empty shafts pointing skyward.

The largest, and most imposing edifice, on whose outside walls were nailed more grisly relics of past confrontations than on any other edifice - the heads of former warrior enemies killed in battle - stood, somewhat apart, near the center of the compound, with more than a dozen chariots parked outside.

Inside the dark and deserted main hall, whose walls were covered with an assortment of weapons, a few dogs lay sleeping, gleaning what warmth they could from the fire pit’s smoldering remnants of the previous night’s fire. While most of the shields, swords, lances and daggers on display were hung on the walls, many daggers were also stuck in the thatch of the roof, where they had been thrown, not only for decoration but also for easy access, though some, thrown during drunken revelry, were well beyond man’s reach should the need arise to quickly retrieve them! Among the various arms were seen hunks of ham and other meats being preserved by the constant smoke from the large fire pit below.

The wooden posts and many of the wooden boards of the walls of the large hall, were intricately carved in swirling patterns while the center of the hall, close to the fire pit, was taken up by a very large table at the head of which stood an ornately carved chair. Along the sides of the hall benches, planks of wood and various sized saw horses stood ready to make more tables and benches for when large groups attended gatherings and feasts held in the large hall.

Two young boys entered, toting armfuls of wood and kindling which they dropped near the fire pit and set to blowing on the glowing embers to re-ignite them into a fire with some of the kindling. As the fire took the boys added a couple of logs while their shadows danced on the walls of the cavernous hall, causing one of the dogs to sit up and begin barking.

Shut up you stupid hound, you’ll wake the household.

As the young boy, Tado, stood glaring at the dog in question a woman’s scream was heard. Tado looked at his companion, Pata, and smiled. Pata straightened up and laughed exclaiming, Well we’ll soon know what it’s to be!

Leaving the hall they glanced in the direction of a doorway, down from where they paused, whence emanated another scream! The curtained doorway to the chamber was surrounded by several warriors and a few women, who looked at the boys as though annoyed at their presence.

We’ll soon know indeed! said the younger boy, Tado, in a cryptic tone of voice as a young woman rushed past them carrying a bowl of steaming water and was let into the chamber by one of the women outside who held the curtain back for her to enter.

Oona will let us know, as like as not, said Tado as his friend Pata laughed and nodded in agreement.

Your right, my sister can’t keep anything secret for very long!

Inside, the chamber revealed itself to be a bedchamber, lit by smoking oil lamps, hanging from the rafters on braided ropes, for while it was daylight outside of the house, not much light seeped inside the chamber. The wooden walls of the chamber, like those of the hall, were decorated with shields, spears, and swords, but also boasted several carved pegs from which hung brightly hued articles of clothing.

To one side of the chamber a pile of hide covered boxes was stacked against the wall and a large loom, with work in progress on it, stood against another. Skeins of colored wool, piled too high in a basket next to the loom tumbled out of it, adding pools of color to the rush covered dirt floor.

Several women, shrouded in wisps of smoke emanating from the hanging lamps, were discerned standing around a large bed platform. One of them, Marva, looked up as the young woman entered and smiled in greeting as she took the bowl of steaming water from her hands.

Thank you Oona, maybe another one?

Oona nodded her head, and looked over to the bed platform before quickly exiting the chamber.

On the bed platform, a naked woman, her face sweat-drenched and teeth clenched down on a leather strap, was being supported under her arms by two women, Duna and Satra, dressed in gaily patterned wool shifts, while the bent form, of a much older and more somberly dressed woman, Tana, leant over the laboring woman’s spread legs.

The laboring woman, whose distended belly shone in the smoky light of the chamber panted, grunted and strained in the last throes of labor, her long red hair plastered about her head, face and shoulders.

Come on, Feidlimid, one last push and then you can rest, urged Tana.

Suddenly the laboring woman let out a piercing scream, followed by a sigh of relief, as tears coursed down her face and Duna and Satra eased her down against the cushioned platform. As they covered her with fur pelts and offered her a drink from a carved wooden cup, Tana, old and with a stooped back painfully rose holding a screaming, bloody newborn in her arms. A pair of equally bloody scissors dangling from a girdle around her waist.

The women around the new mother looked at the child held aloft.

It’s a girl, said Duna.

Would you look at the size of her. No wonder you had a hard time, on top of it being your first. Why she’s more like an infant than a newborn. And look at that! Did you ever see a newborn with so much hair! exclaimed Satra, to the now smiling mother.

So long as she doesn’t have teeth, responded Feidlimid weakly, as she lay back against the fur pelts on the bed platform and handed back the now empty drinking cup.

Her remark was greeted by laughter from all present as Tana cackled gleefully through her decayed and rotten teeth. All eyes were now turned from Feidlimid towards the old woman as she began to gently scoop and pour water from an ornate silver basin, over the newborn with her free hand. The baby was well developed with hardly a wrinkle to her face which was surrounded, like her mother’s, by a mass of plastered red hair. She also demonstrated the fact that she had a mighty set of lungs as she cried out lustily protesting the cold water.

Tana inserted a finger into the newborn’s open mouth.

No teeth! she exclaimed, with a cackle.

As the other women concentrated on cleaning up the bed platform and Feidlimid, after taking the after birth from the bed and holding it, the drapes over the doorway were suddenly pushed back revealing a man, large in stature, with a long mustache and hair, both reddish in color, who bent forward so as not to hit his head on the lintel, as he entered.

Greetings Brennus! exclaimed Feidlimid.

Greetings Feidlimid!

Dressed in striped woolen pants over which a bright red tunic was belted at the waist with a braided girdle, and a red and green wool cloak around his shoulders held in place by a magnificent scrolled gold pin, Brennus had a regal air to him as he straightened up, with a certain arrogance to his stance, next to Tana holding the newborn. Around his neck a thick gold torque gleamed and at his waist, below his girdle, a finely worked scabbard held the hilt of a massive sword. Obviously a man of importance the women were deferential as he looked them over.

So what do I have? A son or a daughter? Brennus asked, in a loud commanding voice.

The standing women bowed before him, while Feidlimid smiled up at him, wearily, from the bed platform.

You, we, have a daughter. A lusty daughter, she said, with pride. She didn’t even need to be smacked to make her presence heard!

Good! We will need one to cement an alliance and she looks like she is going to be a fine leader, said Brennus proudly, looking down at the newborn being held in Tana’s arms.

The newborn seemed to focus her eyes on her father as a gurgle and some drool escaped from her mouth, causing all present to smile.

Taking his naked newborn daughter from Tana and holding her aloft, Brennus cried out.

Medb, oh Mighty Medb, I offer you my only child, a daughter. She will serve you well and be a leader to her people, as well as their safeguard and protector in times of trouble or need.

He bent over his wife, kissed her and whispered you are as beautiful and good as your name indicates. And now, he continued so that everyone could hear, he turned from his wife, I will present her to our people and to our priests. Bring the afterbirth that the priests might examine it, he ordered.

But, protested Feidlimid as Brennus turned on his heels and strode from the chamber, carrying his newborn daughter in his arms. No doubt upset at so much handling of her small person in so short a time the newborn began to cry at the top of her obviously very healthy lungs, alerting anyone nearby that she had arrived and was making her presence known.

I didn’t even get to hold her, said Feidlimid, lying back, her face dejected, as Marva ran after the Chief, a worried look on her face as she clutched a couple of small fur pelts in her hands while Duna walked more sedately, carrying the afterbirth, towards the draped doorway.

A somberly clad tall young man stepped out of the shadows of the recessed corner of the chamber, where he had stood unnoticed and took the proffered afterbirth from Duna. He examined it and then looked over to Feidlimid who moaned as Tana bent to tend to her.

It is her destiny, said the man, she is for the people, they will come first for her. She will lead them to victory. Even in death she will lead them. And now I must take this to my fellow priests and to your husband Brennus to show them. And with that, he too left the chamber, carrying the afterbirth with him.

The young woman, Oona reentered with another bowl of steaming water which she handed over to Satra.

Satra held it for Duna to wash the stickiness of the afterbirth off her hands as she watched the drapes of the doorway settle before going over to a table on top of which were cups, herbs, berries, a mortar and pestle and a pitcher of water as well as some small flasks.

Tana and Satra then washed their hands in the bowl and nodded at Oona to take it from the chamber.

What on earth did Brillig, the High Priest, mean by that? asked Feidlimid looking worried as she watched Oona leave.

He speaks in riddles, perhaps he speaks of her destiny for he has surely read it already in his magic potions and in the stars, replied Tana.

But what did he mean by in death she will lead them? How could that be?

Shsh, you must rest now, ordered Duna, in a comforting tone of voice. All will be explained in due course, now rest. Here, take this, she said, as she handed Feidlimid a cup into which she had poured some red liquid from one of the flasks.

Feidlimid grimaced as she swallowed the liquid but then, as she handed the cup back to Duna, she laid back and slowly closed her eyes and, with a scarce discerned sigh, was soon fast asleep.

Poppies rest the eyes and the soul, cackled Tana, as she set about cleaning up the chamber, helped by Satra while Duna sat down on the tamped rush covered ground, watching Feidlimid as she slept.

Why does Brillig have to say such things, Duna wondered aloud. Is it because he’s so young and not yet versed in all that he is trained to do?

Satra and Tana looked and one another shrugging their shoulders.

* * *

That evening, in the sacred grove of the settlement, as torches flickered and illuminated the swaying limbs of the trees, whose shadows moved looking grotesque in the scarce lit grove, a large crowd gathered around the Druid priests who stood in front of an altar of stone on which a bleating lamb was being held in place by Pata.

The priests, for the most part, were elderly and most had white hair, though a few, obviously young men, wore their white novice gowns as they had not yet been admitted as full fledged priests into the Druids’ circle. Among the priests stood Brillig, who, by his very stature and dark flowing auburn hair and beard even though young of face, nonetheless was a commanding figure.

Chief Brennus with his wife Feidlimid and her attendants by her side, one of whom, Marva, held the baby well wrapped up in fur pelts to guard against the chill of night and the wind, stood waiting patiently, surrounded by a large group of finely-muscled and well-armed men, while young teens, both boys and girls, well-armed like their elders, and well-muscled too, fidgeted and chattered. Many a blue tattoo or swirl of paint was evident on those gathered in the grove who all held themselves proudly, and appeared both well dressed and well fed, as were the older people in the crowd who also stood waiting, many stomping their feet to keep warm.

Both sexes were highly adorned with brooches, decorated with shells, precious stones, or ornate swirled filigree in both silver and gold. Light gleamed off torques, pendants, bracelets and other personal decorations such as hair pins and cloak pins. Many of the women had their fingernails painted and their cheeks rouged with roan, while their eyes and eyebrows were outlined and accentuated with berry juice. All were attired in brightly dyed colorful wool tunics and closely held capes. Mothers held their young children by the hand or on their bosom inside their cloaks for warmth and on everyone’s face a look of rapt attention was evident as the Druids began chanting, drowning out the sounds of the sheep’s pitiful bleating and a baby’s wails. Over all, the barking of the hunting hounds as well as sheep herding dogs and family pets was heard.

Around the grove skulls were embedded in the trees, the dark hollows of their eyes and the rictus of death of their grimaces, startlingly outlined by the light from the torches held high by guards.

The Celts having no fear of death believed that a worthy opponent in war transferred his powers to his conqueror in departing from earth, so that his skull, which was believed to have contained his soul, was placed in the location of worship to be venerated. Some were also placed on the outside walls of houses to denote that a warrior lived there and had bested these enemies in battle.

The Druid priests, their arms stretched heavenward, began to chant, drawing in the audience who began to sway and intone in unison with them. Brillig the High Priest took a small bunch of pearly white mistletoe which he cut from their backing with a gold dagger, which gleamed by the light of the torches. As if it was a signal, the chanting suddenly stopped as the gold dagger’s blade plunged down and slit the lamb’s throat and thence slid downwards opening up the belly whence, thus released, the entrails gushed out with a flood of blood and other bodily fluids, covering the top of the altar.

The High Priest Brillig waited for the lamb’s body to stop twitching and then spread out the bloody, steaming entrails on the altar top. Blood was everywhere and in the ensuing silence, the plip plop of the blood dripping down from the altar to the dirt below was plainly heard in between the wind gusts as everyone held their breath in suspense.

Chief Brennus advanced guiding his wife Feidlimid by the elbow, for she now carried the baby, to the altar. As they neared the High Priest turned and, looking heavenwards, once more cried out with his bloodied hands reaching skyward.

Oh Mighty Medb, look down on this child with favor and grant her thy protection, that she may serve you well.

As the High Priest Brillig intoned, the entrails cooled and the blood slowly stopped dripping. All the onlookers waited tensely, the cold and wind forgotten, until the High Priest Brillig finished his incantations.

Finally, he turned back to the altar once more and looked down, peering closely at the entrails that one of the other priests had separated from the fat globules which he had placed next to the mistletoe berries. He looked from the globules to the berries before he spoke.

They are healthy. The child will have a long and healthy life, he shouted out, loud enough for all to hear.

Shouts of relief and joy rose from the crowd, accompanied by the renewed frantic barking and yapping of the dogs as the ferrous odor of blood reached their snouts. The High Priest then signaled for silence once more as he peered more closely at the entrails while the hushed attentive crowd quieted down and waited as the young men and maidens held back the straining, snarling and salivating dogs.

Yellow fat globules glistened, like a necklace of pearls spread around the entrails amid the ruby red of the blood, lit by torches held high by servants, the wind controlled flames of the torches causing dancing shadows and shapes to waft across the altar. The onlookers pushed and jostled their neighbors as they tried to vie for a better view.

As one, the crowd became silent and still when the High Priest stood up straight and shouted out so that all gathered there could hear.

She will be rich and powerful. She will be Queen! She will be powerful in mind and body and lead her people to victory against great odds. She will be famed throughout the land and her name will ring down through time. Her name... her name will be BOADICEA! he shouted decisively, his voice drowned out by the cheering crowd’s roar as they began to dance around and chant Boadicea! Boadicea!

Musicians picked up their carryxes and the lugubrious and harsh sounds of their instruments spread out over the grove accompanied by the softer more melodious sounds emanating from bone flutes and the rhythmic beat of the hand held skin covered drums which joined in.

The High Priest looked out over the jubilant crowd and then, once more, raised his arms, down which the sheep’s blood had run, commanding silence. As the crowd became still and quieted once more, he again shouted heavenwards, Boadicea, which means VICTORY!

The High Priest then took the child from her mother and held her aloft for all to see.

Boadicea, it has a fine ring to it, said one man in the crowd, as he rolled the name off his tongue with an approving nod of his head.

A name fit for a Queen, agreed his closest neighbor.

What great odds is he talking about? asked another, a worried look creasing his features as he looked around.

Who knows, he’s talking about the future.

Could it be the Romans? Maybe they will come back and she will rid us of them forever, suggested the first.

Pouah! They won’t be back. It’s been years since they came. In my great grandfather’s time, disputed another much older man, standing nearby.

Well they came twice and you know how the old saying goes, never two without three! interjected an old, battle scarred man.

Well the weather got to them, ruined some of their boats and plans of invasion.

Even so the Cantii, Carnilius, Taximagulus and Segonax tribes, led by Cingetorix, were almost wiped out and began peace talks with the Romans.

Well Caesar hoped his reinforcements would arrive and bolster his land troops, but the weather had other ideas and pushed the approaching ships away many having their hulls breached. So we attacked those on shore and almost had them beat, said the old, battle scarred man.

You forget old man that the Romans slaughtered those who fought them and while they were recovering Caesar and his troops boarded their ships and left returning to Gaul.

If he’s not referring to the Romans who is he talking about? inquired a mother, anxiously, as she held her child to her, it’s sleepy head lolling on her shoulder.

Some of our neighbors may have designs on us, who knows? commented another.

Who knows indeed! agreed the outspoken first speaker.

Cunobelinus is expanding his dominion all the time, perhaps he has designs on us, said the woman.

On us Iceni? Get real woman! He wouldn’t get far! Are we not protected by our natural surroundings, the Ouse River, the impenetrable Fens, well they are dangerous anyway, and then there’s the thick oak woodlands to the south!

Yes, and besides, we are more than a match for any invader or poacher, said the woman, relief in her voice.

Poacher! Ha! That’s a good one! laughed one of the men. Women, you have such crazy ideas.

Shh Shh! It’s time, said someone, angrily, as they stood nearby in the crowd and glared at the gossiping group.

The crowd hushed once more as they all turned their eyes back to the High Priest Brillig.

The High Priest returned the now bawling baby back to her mother, with the blood of the lamb marking her forehead and over her heart. Feidlimid pulled her gown down over one shoulder and gave her newborn her breast to suckle and thus calmed her.

At Brillig’s signal, the novice priests, one by one, each took a torch and lit the large bonfire laid out to one side of the altar. As the dry kindling took and flames crackled and shot skyward, Brillig turned and threw the lamb’s entrails onto the fire, where they sizzled and burned, while everyone took turns dancing around the fire and being swept up in a whirling, screaming frenzy. As they danced by the altar they dipped their fingers in the sacrificed lamb’s semi-congealed blood and besmirched themselves with it, their eyes wild, as the dogs, finally released, ran between the gyrating legs and bodies avidly searching for the blood on the ground by the altar.

With this fire and blessed smoke we purify our bodies and our souls and let it wash away and cleanse our spirits, intoned Brillig.

Suddenly everyone became silent and most stood still as a clap of thunder rolled directly overhead followed by a streak of lightning.

It’s a sign, shouted one.

Maybe it’s an omen, shouted out another.

What’s the difference? yelled yet another.

Laughing and chatting, the crowd quickly began to disperse, leaving in family groups and ones and twos or more, while the dogs snarled and snapped at one another as they fought over and ripped apart the lamb’s remains.

The fire died down for lack of attention as the grove became deserted of humans and drizzle, which quickly turned to rain, began to fall.

Everyone wended their way to the center of the enclave, pushing and shoving to escape the rain, and squeezed, as best they could, into the house of their chief Brennus for a celebration feast as the rain began to pour down in earnest.

Soon everyone was forgetting the cold and rain outside as they drained cup after cup, in toast after toast, in honor of the birth of an heir to Chief Brennus and his wife Feidlimid.

Harps and lyres as well as skin drums and flutes were brought out and played as people recalled the deeds and valor of past family and tribal members.

The festivities and celebration went on through the night until the dawn’s early light, like pale gold, seeped over the horizon, over the lush rain and dew bedecked fields and trees and the muddy paths in and around the settlement. The weak light even filtered into the Chief’s house and over a few die hard revelers who were still drinking, though their stance and limbs were unsteady and their voices, raised in song, were raspy and out of tune, as dawn heralded a new day.

* * *

It would be many years before another such great outpouring of joy and revelry would occur in this particular settlement. In the meantime Boadicea would grow up into a young woman, letting her hair grow long, and learning to decorate her face with unguents and nards, as well as berry dyes, and to wear jewelry denoting her rank as befitted a Chief’s daughter. Her wool clothing would have been woven of multi colored wools, perhaps even by herself,