March 10, 64
The Queen was in her element. Over the last three years she’d quickly grown weary of countless meetings to discuss taxes and harvests. The attitude of the men she surrounded herself with was tiresome, especially the Crown’s Hand. He’d undermined her in one too many meetings, and that was when he wasn’t agreeing with every bit of dissent from the regional monarchs. Reflecting on her frustrations, Boudicca had quickly concluded that she’d cut him down to size when she returned to Londinnium.
There was little need to worry about that now, however. Greater issues were in play. The Regini were being troublesome once more, raiding border villages, and it was high time they were taught a lesson in fair play. The sky was grey and the cold wind bit at the Queen’s exposed skin, but she enjoyed it. It felt toughening, and was far preferable to roasting inside the palace her Crown’s Hand had insisted on commissioning. The rolling hills were pleasant even in the dull weather, but far more pleasant was the sight of a thousand of her men, dressed in furs and iron helmets, slowly making their way towards the stone city walls of Regnentium, the tribe’s capital. The walls were three men high, but she had confidence in the ability of her soldiers to get around them. There had to be an entrance somewhere. She wasn’t overeager however. Experience had taught her never to assume the battle was won until it really was.
She was quickly reminded of this as her eyes were caught by a lone black arrow planting itself in the grass a few metres to her side. Boudicca shivered. It felt like a warning. But her strategy was at stake nonetheless and she’d little intention of abandoning it. It was obvious that the city walls couldn’t be scaled, and an assault from this direction was meaningless. That was the point; it was a distraction. The city’s archers would fire at the helpless army from the north while her quieter, more ruthless men would sneak in some other way. The strategy wouldn’t have worked at all were Boudicca not with the sacrificial lambs; the moment the Regini had seen her, they’d panicked and assumed the assault was all coming from there. They must have been confused to see her with such a seemingly helpless army. Several more arrows. One struck the stomach of a soldier ahead of Boudicca, and he staggered painfully to the ground. They were close enough now. Boudicca drew her sword, gently, still anxious after all these years that it might easily snap after so many swings against flesh and bone. She aimed the gleaming sword towards the city wall.
“Run!” she bellowed, and like the tide all her men began rushing forward at once with a great roar. She joined them, her mop of red hair regularly spilling in front of her eyes. There was no hail of arrows; the Regini had far too few men well trained enough to use a bow. That would be their downfall. Once Boudicca’s force reached the walls they could maneuverer along its sides, beyond the range of swords from above but too numerous and too fast for arrows to make a difference. Then they’d find an entrance and meet the rest of the army who would, hopefully, have already gained access.
Boudicca was fitter than any other woman in the First Realm, and she found herself sprinting ahead of many of her own men. An arrow whistled just over her shoulder. Her hair was surely an easy target, but she didn’t let up. A few men had been stuck in a marsh between the fields, and two were dying with arrows poking from their bodies. Boudicca leapt and with one quick motion jumped right over the body of water, still running as she landed. The wall was seconds away. By the time she reached it, she was going too fast to stop in time. She did herself more damage by crashing into it side-on than any enemy fighter could have done. One by one, soldiers began to join her and quickly starting going in either direction looking for an opening. From above, archers would fire arrows. Their rate of fire was far too slow to have any effect, just as the Queen had predicted. When they did hit, they went through the top of the head or the shoulders and certainly killed or maimed, but not enough. Boudicca held a leather shield over her head, and every now and again would feel the impact of an arrow hitting it. She stepped over a couple of corpses, as well as the rocks that were also being thrown at her army. Finally turning a corner she saw the entrance to the city, with men already streaming inside. She heard screams from within the city walls. The entrance was little more than a large gap in the wall and she entered to find a collection of wood and straw huts. Scattered groups of men engaged in swordplay, some clearly more trained than others. Boudicca’s piercing green eyes instantly spotted a pair of Regini running at her with swords drawn. Bringing down her shield, she glanced at it to realise perhaps fifteen arrows were embedded in it, before preparing to block the first enemy blow.
The younger looking man reached her first, naked except for furry bottoms and green paint across his face. Seemingly already panicking as the identity of his quarry sun in, he swung clumsily only to hit shield. Boudicca was buffeted back but was quick. With her sword hand, she reached round and with one quick motion slashed downwards in front of her shield before the man could rescind his sword arm. Her sword met his arm just below the elbow and sliced it off with hardly a sound. Shock replaced colour on the man’s face, he too not making a sound, and Boudicca shoved him backwards with her shield to let him fall onto his back while she dealt with the other man. This one seemed more competent. He threw several angry blows one after the other, each hitting her shield. For the briefest moment, Boudicca allowed herself to be distracted by the sight of a Regini archer taking aim at her. She half-circled the man attacking her, putting him between her and the archer, but he fired anyway. The arrow hit the man right between the shoulder blades and he cried out, but refused to allow himself to show weakness, knowing to do so meant death. Boudicca lashed out at the moment of distraction, her sword cutting into his ribs and letting blood seep out onto the pale grass. One of her men was setting fire to a nearby hut, and the grey smoke was drifting right amongst the duelling pair. She held her breath, her shield absorbing two more, much weaker, blows before she lashed out again. This time she missed, and very nearly lost her arm at the enemy’s returning strike. She took a few steps backwards and glanced at the first boy, sitting upright and staring at the bloody stump where his upper arm had been. With one quick motion she slashed through the left side of his neck, leaving him to tumble onto the floor, choking and spasming before going still with blood pouring from his mouth and nose.
The boy’s compatriot didn’t fall to the bait of taking any steps towards Boudicca, instead waiting for her to do so. She happily obliged, moving quickly but refusing to make the first blow. He did instead, narrowly missing her as she dodged before she jumped forward with sword outstretched, stabbing him in the breast. He took a few steps backwards, shocked, before his hand went limp and his sword fell to the grass. Clutching at his chest wound, he outstretched an arm towards Boudicca in a show of mercy. Impatiently, she lopped off the outstretched arm with one swing before her backstroke elegantly removed his head right below the jaw.
Feeling a tightness amid the excitement of killing the pair, Boudicca still felt frustrated that she hadn’t been able to spill more blood. She was good at it, after all, yet much of the city had already been taken. Several huts were already on fire while prisoners were being rounded up. If they were willing to pledge allegiance to her, and were uninjured and healthy, then they would be the equals of the men who defeated them. The Queen, much of her face and chest splattered with blood, marched towards an approaching commander, identifiable by his red face paint as opposed to the regular green.
“What news of the king?” she asked.
“My Queen, our men are within sight of the palace. The enemy line won’t hold very long.”
“Wonderful,” replied Boudicca, grinning to reveal her teeth were covered in blood too. “Spread the word that the king must not be harmed, I’d like a conversation with him.” The commander bowed and rushed off without another word.
Boudicca strode down the streets in the direction of the palace, a Roman structure surrounded by columns. All around her were screams as the citizens were rounded up. The men had been told, on the personal orders of the Queen no less, not to harm the women on pain of death and she expected them to follow the order to the letter. Surely the orders would change once she was but ash.
By the time she had reached the palace, the battle seemed largely over already. Caratacusia had a reputation for providing far better living standards than any other southern kingdom, and many local soldiers had dropped their weapons the moment it became hopeless, on the promise of being spared. They’d learn. Boudicca arrived at the palace to see the king, Tiberius Cogidubnus, standing before it waiting for her. He must have immediately noticed the crowds of citizens being herded before the palace to watch the scene which awaited them. A group of the First Realm’s soldiers emerged from within the palace, heavy-handedly pulling his shrieking wife and three children onto the grounds to join the king. The king stood rooted to the spot, watching the approaching Queen. She stopped just a few feet away from him, as the whole city seemed to fall silent besides the distant crackle of flames.
“I, Boudicca, Queen of the First Realm, request the surrender of your kingdom,” she said politely. Formalities always got in the way, even in the midst of battle. King Tiberius looked at his feet, saying nothing. Boudicca could wait. She was happy to let him wallow, be humiliated a little longer before his watching people. Her hand already gribbed the handle of her sword, ready to end his bloodline once and for all. Finally he looked up.
“You have it.” And with that, the Regini ceased to exist. The First Realm had grown.
But then Boudicca was distracted. From within the palace was the sound of crying, and then one of her soldiers emerged carrying a bundle of blankets in his arms. King Tiberius span around and stared.
“No…” he said quietly. He turned back towards Boudicca. “Please,” he begged. Boudicca walked silently towards the soldier holding the bundle and looked down to see the soft, pink face of a frightened, confused looking baby. So helpless. So… innocent. She turned back towards King Tiberius.
“I pardon you,” she said quietly. Everyone – the King, his family, the soldiers – all stared at her. This was unprecedented. Unthinkable. “Your family will live as commoners. But you shall live.” And with that, she walked away, sighing to herself.