by Jan Surasky
Boudicca turned to stroll among the crowd, by now feasting upon the succulence of the boar turned upon the spit and the tiny game birds roasted over an open pit, swapping stories of political rebuffs and maneuvers of every kind, of gossip of the palace and the marketplace, passing round skins of wine and ale, and gaming for stakes remembered barely in the morning on game boards of silver and gold.
As Boudicca passed among them, Astrinellia stood beneath a great oak tree, the sun's rays barely shining through its widespread branches, the violet of her tunic a blend with the mossy floor and leafy green of the woodland. She stepped forward to greet Boudicca, her lameness barely visible as she went.
"Boudicca," she said, as she greeted her with an embrace, "I shall be a sister to you always." She stepped back, her leg dragging only slightly. Her face wan, her pale, blue eyes reflected the hue of her violet tunic, and her long, blond locks were caught up in a single, violet bow.
"I have long been my brother's keeper," she said, as she shifted her weight as she spoke. "I have looked after his affairs as he went upon the field of battle, or sat in council, or talked to merchants of trade, or rode about the countryside in search of answers to the affairs of state."
"When Father was chieftain of this tribe, there was no match for me upon this island," she continued. "And, a match within the nobility of this tribe would have weakened the royal family." She paused. "Since that time," she added, "I have been devoted to the Iceni palace, its kitchens and its larder, its spinning rooms, its chambers, and its atrium gardens, and to Prasutagus, smoothing the way for tribal guests, the meetings of Druid justice, and councils of tribal affairs upon our island."
"Now that you are queen, I shall step aside" she said, shifting her weight upon the woodland floor. "But," she added, "I shall be always at the ready to give the aid or advice you need as you will it."
Boudicca embraced Astrinellia. As she stood back, she spoke. "We shall work together, Astrinellia," she answered. "I have much to learn of Iceni ways." She paused. "I shall never try to replace you in Prasutagus' mind or heart."
Astrinellia reached for Boudicca's hand, taking it into hers. "I welcome you into the Iceni tribe," she said. "May your bounty be great."
As Astrinellia took her leave to move among the guests, Boudicca spied Venutius, standing beneath a sycamore, his gaze upon her. She moved toward him, lifting her tunic slightly as she went. As she came upon him, she lifted her face toward his and spoke. "Venutius," she said, "we must take one last stroll together."
"Boudicca," he answered, as he turned to join her to tread the woodland paths, "I promise this shall not be our last stroll. I shall visit as often as the routes of trade and nobles' squabbles let me." They strolled, in silence, violets and anemones newly sprung along the mossy woodland paths, shaded by sycamores, oaks, and hawthorns. As they reached a stream in the forest, Venutius reached to bend a sycamore branch, green and supple in its youth, pulling a short, hunting knife from its sheath about his waist to cut it swiftly down.
He began to carve, a smile upon his face. "I shall again carve for you a likeness of Sequanna," he said, chuckling as he chipped away shavings of the sycamore branch. "We shall ask again the bounty of the river goddess."
Boudicca stood at the edge of the stream gazing upon its fast-flowing waters rushing headlong to the rapids below, the rays of the sun bouncing off her tresses. As Venutius finished his carving, he handed her the likeness of the goddess. "Now you must cast it upon the waters once again," he said, as he stepped nearer to her at the edge of the stream. Boudicca flung the tiny idol onto the rapidly flowing waters, following it along with Venutius its path with their gazes as it went.
Venutius spoke. "We must return to the festivities, Boudicca" he said, as he stepped back from the edge of the stream. He paused. "I ride for the Silures palace on the morrow. But, I promise, I shall send word often of visits and bring news of our tribe, the tribes upon our isle and the Continent." They arrived back at the edge of the forest, wordless as they strolled, and parted.
As the sun set, servants built great bonfires, games were played upon the hillside, and the feasting continued, depleting the palace larder by the hundreds of boar, game birds, and woodland stag. When the stars had been long risen in the sky, Prasutagus moved about to search for Boudicca, finding her urging on the board game of two young nobles. Cheers and guffaws rose from the crowd, the stakes of the game nearly lost among the noise, the golden pieces poised in standoff along the silver board, the players hunched forward in tense anticipation. Prasutagus hesitated slightly, then reached out his hand to clasp Boudicca's, drawing her toward him. As she reached him, he let go her hand, and spoke. "Boudicca," he said, "we must return to the palace, as on the morrow we shall be expected to lead the festivities once again." He led her across the meadow as he spoke, graciously fending off the well-wishers who were still coming upon him as he went.
They walked up the hillside below the city and through its gates thick with boulders and oaken beams, and toward the palace entrance, its great oak doors flung back. They entered the great halls of the palace, decked everywhere with blooms of field, woodland, and atrium gardens. The scent of blossoms rose about them, as they strolled through the winding hallways of the palace toward the royal bedchamber.
Prasutagus led the way, striding slowly, his tall, slender frame lending dignity to his gait. A manservant attended him as he went. Boudicca followed, a bevy of handmaidens at her side, laughing and chattering as they went, the excitement of the evening's festivities hovering over them still.
They reached the bedchamber and entered it, Prasutagus clearing its entrance only slightly. Its great clay floors held oaken chests and urns of every kind. Its bed a mass of the softest skins, its bedcovers, plentiful and thick, an indigo hue, and its silken drapes the hues of sunrise. The stars shone through windows all about, their shutters still flung open.
An adjoining chamber held a large, oaken dressing table and chests for garments of every kind. "Boudicca," said Prasutagus, "you shall prepare in yonder chamber. Veronnia," he added, motioning toward the handmaiden in charge, "will aid you. The chamber chests are filled with garments fashioned especially to suit you."
Boudicca walked toward the chamber accompanied by Veronnia. As she entered, she spied chests of every woodland tree lining the walls. She lifted their lids. In one, neatly folded tunics of finely woven linen in every hue were piled high. In another, woolens in the darker hues of autumn were stacked one upon the other. In another, mantles and cloaks, and in another, sturdy riding trousers, crafted in the toughest hides. In another, a small, cherry wood chest, crafted with the fruits and flowers of the woodland, lay bedclothes of every hue, the deep indigo, the soft greens of the meadow grasses, and the violets, oranges, yellows and blues of the blossoms of woodland and meadow.
Boudicca pulled from the pile a finely woven linen in indigo hue, its tiny flowers and woodland geese embroidered in saffron yellow. Veronnia unclasped the silver fibula which held Boudicca's tunic and draped the indigo linen about her. Boudicca turned toward the great urns which held the water and splashed droplets upon her face, drawn from the excitement of the day, and rubbed some upon her hands, drying them carefully upon a linen cloth Veronnia held. Then, she rubbed handfuls of dry rose petals, held in a small, silver bowl forged with the goddesses of the woodland which sat atop the great, oaken dressing table, upon her bare arms, and splashed woodland scents, held in tiny urns, upon her tresses, let down and brushed by Veronnia.
She rose, dismissed Veronnia and the rest of the handmaidens, and walked into the bedchamber where Prasutagus stood, in nightclothes of saffron yellow. He took Boudicca's hand and led her to the bed, massive with the softest skins framed in timbers of sturdy oak. "Boudicca," he said, as he let go her hand, "I have had many women. My pleasure has never been denied. But," he added, as he looked upon her, "I shall not press you."
"Prasutagus," she answered, looking also upon him, "I am aware of my duty. I am aware a
lso of what this union means to both our tribes. I know that our union is a symbol of it. I shall never deny you."
He took again her hand and climbed upon the bed, drawing her up beside him. As they consummated their union, the evening breeze wafted through the chamber, and the stars shone brightly in the sky through the great, long windows, their shutters still flung back.
Chapter Seven
The snow lay thick upon the ground outside the royal bedchamber as Boudicca gave birth to the first Iceni heir in many seasons. The child's cries rang out, filling the chamber with noisy squalls. Boudicca laughed as she heard the protests of her newborn infant.
Servants attended her, versed in the art of birth, mopping her brow with cool, linen cloth, wrung with the waters of nearby countryside springs, and caring for the afterbirth. The child, a baby girl, continued to shriek, piercing the air with the demanding cries of the newborn. Nursemaids cooed about her and clucked, rocking her gently and sponging her off with a soft, wet linen cloth, wrapping about her as she dried a heavy, woolen wrapper of many hues. They laid the infant at Boudicca's side.
Boudicca pulled the child to her breast, quieting her as she softly stroked her cheek. As the infant suckled, Boudicca took stock of her newborn daughter. A tuft of locks as golden as Prasutagus' once had been. Her face, though red and wizened from birth, held eyes as blue as the robin's egg waiting to be fledged in spring along the riverbank. Her sturdy body lay still as she suckled, and her tiny hands grasped Boudicca's breast, her nails as yet uncut scratching slightly the softness of her skin.
Boudicca beamed down upon her newborn daughter. She would ride the plains and explore the woodlands with her, and teach her to send an arrow she carved from a sapling toward the trunk of a great, oak tree, as she had learned. And, she would take her to visit Diviticus, for he must teach her the ways of the omens of the Celtic gods.
Her name would be Alaina, a name she had chosen and Prasutagus had agreed upon. Chosen from Prasutagus' ancestry, the name had been given to his great-grandmother, a woman of Gallic heritage, a chieftain's daughter, brought to the island as wife to the Iceni king. When her husband had been killed upon the field of battle, she ruled the tribe with wisdom until her eldest son was old enough to become the chief. Large in size, and popular with tribespeople as far as the borders of the tribal lands, her words of wisdom could still be heard repeated among the people of the Iceni tribe.
As Alaina's eyes began to close and her suckling to drop off, Boudicca called for a nursemaid to carry the infant to her nearby cradle. Carved from the great oak of the Iceni woodland, it rested upon a sturdy rocker, its head and footboards turned with tiny songbirds and masses of woodland flowers.
Prasutagus had agreed that Alaina would slumber nearby, so that Boudicca could hear her tiniest cries, to soothe her quickly with a feeding. Boudicca had agreed as well to the occasional feedings of a young servant who had just given birth herself, brought to the royal quarters for the task. But, Boudicca had made it clear that it would be she who would attend as often as she could to her newborn daughter.
Alaina's birth would be cause for rejoicing among the Iceni tribe, for there had been no royal birth for many seasons. Boudicca smiled as she thought of the celebrations to come and how happy the birth would make the Iceni people. Bells would ring, the palace bards would recite new rhymes, and people would feast on ale and tiny, honeyed cakes. The Iceni Druids would prepare a special rite come Beltane in honor of the birth.
As the nursemaid gently lifted Alaina from her bed, Boudicca drifted off to sleep. She knew she must soon regain her strength.
As Boudicca grew stronger, and Alaina older, Boudicca packed the infant into a sack and wrapped her in layers of woolens, leaving free her darting eyes and tiny, turned-up nose. Then, they trod the meadows and the woodlands on horseback, Alaina securely fastened to the saddle of the mount, or wrapped securely in her mother's arms. The two looked about the countryside, still winter, for signs of life.
Dew drops sparkled along the meadow grasses, the morning thick with fog. As it lifted, the two would look for birds, spying a linnet upon a thistle-seed, or a blackbird or thrush singing its morning song. Or, a robin or a sparrow, searching out a perch in a landscape gone to rest.
As they spied a bird, Alaina's piercing, blue eyes would dart toward the creature, and sometimes she would coo. Boudicca would laugh, and explain to her the kind of bird it was, and what was its morning mission. Its song sounded shrill in the morning air.
Birds vied for the red berries of the holly plant and the white berries of the mistletoe which twined around the bark of the apple tree and the oak. Sacred to the Celts, fatal to the human taste, the mistletoe twined about the tree as parasite to feed the birds.
Boudicca sang as they rode, and Alaina often fell asleep. Sometimes, with a few nursemaids to accompany them, they would walk the paths of the woodlands, and spy a hare behind a rock, or a fox, his coat turned grey in the winter, turning to trot across a nearby meadow.
Astrinellia, fond of Alaina, would watch the child also. Although she rarely left the palace, Astrinellia often asked to see the child through to slumber. As nursemaids bathed Alaina and wrapped her in her nightclothes, and scented her with petals dried from woodland flowers, Astrinellia stood by, to gently rock her cradle and sing her to slumber with a lullaby learned long ago from a palace nursemaid.
Tribal affairs filled Prasutagus' days as well as evenings. He came late to the royal bedchamber, long after the stars had risen in the sky, weary from council meetings and the haggling of nobles over lands. He held council with merchants as well on the routes of trade most favorable to Iceni goods. The tin and gold pulled from prolific mines, the bronze turned into sheaths and swords, bridles and bits, enameled and coral studded. Hides of the great Iceni forests turned to sandals and riding trousers. Ploughs and reapers, bowls of silver and gold, gilded and engraved, and silver game boards with playing pieces of gold. All turned by artisans busy at forges and wheels in the daily activity of the Iceni hilltop cities. As Prasutagus lay down upon the great bed, his tall and slender frame weary from the day, Boudicca tried to talk of tribal worries and affairs, but he most often drifted quickly off to slumber.
Boudicca served Prasutagus well in council, making certain that he took his evening meal, a refreshment he often forgot. She coaxed the kitchen servants to pull the most inviting portions from the roasted boars and quail, stag and woodland hares, and tiny game birds brought down in the great Iceni forests. She brought always his meal herself, setting it down beside him upon a small, wooden table, carved with the vines of the woodland. She mingled often with the tradesmen, nobles and warriors in council, charming them with her youth and wit.
Prasutagus often journeyed about the countryside to oversee its progress. Boudicca spent the long evenings when he was gone playing with Alaina, or in conversation or a board game with Astrinellia, or watching the sun set while Astrinellia embroidered upon a cloth of linen.
On the days when Prasutagus was about the palace, as Boudicca became more familiar with Iceni ways, she learned when best to approach him and engage him in the art of conversation. On an evening when the foreboding chill of winter was in the autumn air, Boudicca brought to Prasutagus his evening meal, arranged upon a golden tray. She brought as well a many-hued lap robe to stay the chill of the great hall, its high ceilings and expansive floors of clay chilled despite the efforts of servants to keep them warm with fires banked about them.
"Prasutagus," she began, as she lay the brightly-hued woolen about him, "you are worn with tribal affairs. Perhaps on a morn you could ride the countryside in pleasure or bring down a wild boar in a woodland hunt. Or, challenge a noble to a board game. Perhaps Armandes, for he is the only noble with wit to challenge you upon the gaming table."
"Boudicca," he answered, as he looked up, the lines upon his weary face grown longer, the flecks of gray in his locks and beard grown wider, "it has been long since I have challenged a noble to a board gam
e or risen before the sun to ride about the countryside in search of woodland game."
"But," he continued, "the nobles clamor for attention over lands and merchants squabble over trade. The bars and ingots of one tribe, or the demand of goods for goods of another, do not match the system of Iceni coins. And," he added, shifting his lean weight upon his hassock, "I must often hold council with the artisans of the coin, for the same symbol must be engraved upon each coin, a task resisted by the Celtic craftsman."
Prasutagus paused to lift a joint of roasted wild boar from the golden tray. He continued. "I must also hold council with warriors and nobles. News has come from the Continent that Claudius takes Tiberius' place in Rome as emperor. It is said that he needs a victory to assure his power with the Roman people. He will be certain to attempt what Caesar failed to accomplish upon our isle. There are rumors that he is already planning to send the Roman army across the sea in great number to attack our British tribes, to subdue them as the Iberians and the Gauls."
"What shall we do, Prasutagus?" asked Boudicca.
"I must hold council with the warriors and nobles, before we reach a decision," he answered. "But, I believe if the numbers of the Roman army overwhelm us, or if their strategy surpasses ours, we must lay down our weapons in cooperation. For, if we please the emperor, he might be lenient, allowing us to still bear arms and turn out goods and coins in trade."
"Now," he continued, as he paused to taste the joint of wild boar, "I must prepare to hold council with our merchants. They arrive this evening from towns far toward Iceni borders. They clamor for more trade upon the Continent, for our tin pulls a high exchange, and the work of our artisans sought after, both by the Celts and by the Roman governors. Our bridle-bits of bronze and woolens, our brightly-hued enameled clasps and buttons are highly prized, and our sandals of sturdy hides."
