Crossing Midlife Demons: A Humorous Paranormal Women’s Fiction by Hull Heloise

Author:Hull, Heloise
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henwin Press LTD
Published: 2023-01-25T00:00:00+00:00

15

Boudica, Queen of the Iceni

East Anglia, Roman Britannia. 60 CE

Her daughters’ screams refused to go stale in her mind. She would never forget them. She would never forgive the ones who caused them. Those men with eyes as black as their hearts, barely seen through all of the metal armor. It spoke of their fear. They had to wear so much of it to have the courage to come within a mile of her.

She watched in pleasure as each Roman village fell before her, each temple desecrated by her people. Even Londinium burned, only a thick layer of ash mixed with clay to mark the spot of the once flourishing Roman city. Their strong Roman leaders, their heroes of so many wars against savages, where had they gone? Fled without a fight.

Now, the warm bodies of her daughters gave her strength as they rode in their chariot to battle, screaming as savagely as they were accused of being, encouraging their fellow Iceni warriors, men and women, to fight to the death against their oppressors. To take revenge. Boudica stood as high on the wheel rims as she could, thrusting her spear toward the heavens.

“If you weigh well the causes of war, my lost freedom, my scourged body, the outraged chastity of my daughters, you will see that in this battle, you must conquer or die! This is a woman’s resolve; as for men, they may live and be slaves.”

They fought and they savaged, and now they plotted their next steps.

This was when a strange woman came to her wearing white robes beneath a ruffled fur cape, her black hair tied up in a silver net. A belt glittered between her fingers. Boudica could not help but stare at the power radiating within, only inches from her fingertips.

“A pretty speech.”

“What is your wish?” Boudica demanded.

“The Romans will rout you.”

“They haven’t yet.”

“The forest is at your back. The Roman general controls it. Your surprise attacks will be useless on the open plain where he’s settled at its mouth. Take this.” She held out the belt, dazzling with its own inner light.

Boudica didn’t have the Sight. She saw hares and doves and toads, and they were just that—hares and doves and toads. She was no druid to divine the entrails, as apophenic as a haruspex.

“What will this do?” she asked. She didn’t care about the price as queens before her had.

The woman who offered the belt, this belt of her sister, of Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, admired that. Boudica was right. To a queen already at war, it didn’t matter the price, only the result.

This should have been the end of their story together. Boudica would take the belt, and she would finish her feud. She would push the Romans out of East Anglia and teach them not to go back on their word every time they killed their emperor in Rome and a new one took his place. She was not a man to be killed; she was a queen of the Iceni.

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