CHAPTER 7
Venta Icenorum - Winter 60 AD

Boudicca sat stiff and still beneath Mara's gentle ministrations, bracing herself against the pain. She maintained deep even breaths and tried to suppress her involuntary winces as the cold salve was rubbed deep into her wounds. Even though the lash marks were healing well they still shot fiery arrows of pain through her with any quick or unguarded movement, draining her slowly rebuilding strength. Strength she would need when she faced the clans with her call for the Clannada. Boudicca sighed with relief as the woad mixture soaked into the skin. Her muscles relaxed and loosened as the medicinal paste dispelled the pain and banished all feeling from the still raw scars that cut deep blood-red ravines in her flesh. The slightly euphoric strength and confidence that accompanied the woad's usage was an added bonus that she would use to her advantage when she spoke to the chieftains.

A sharp rap at the door snapped Boudicca's head around, jarring her neck and back, still stiff but now mercifully numb. Owain ducked his head inside with a brief nod to her before retreating back out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"They are here and ready. Are you?" Mara asked softly, afraid for her mother's health.

"As ready as I can be," Boudicca replied evenly.

"Are you sure you don't want to wear your normal dress, or even you Lady's regalia?" Mara asked.

"A full dress would be too irritating to my back despite the woad. Besides I want them to see the wounds inflicted on me by the Romans. I want them to see with their own eyes the rabid viciousness of the underhanded invaders. I want them to see me in the dress of the Lady as it was when our people first came to this land. I want them to remember in their deepest secret souls that we came here and were welcomed by the land, welcomed by the gods and goddesses and ancient ones of this land. I want them to see and remember and know without a doubt that the Romans are not welcomed here. They are not part of our land. They are an infection to be fought and cast out, or we will continue to sicken unto death."

Mara bowed her head to her mother's vehemence and simply moved to the door. She held it open without another word. No matter how much she worried about her mother she was still a subject of the Queen. No matter where the path led she was ready to follow the Lady's lead.

Boudicca stepped out of her quarters and into the packed great hall. Every inch the warrior queen. Every inch the warrior priestess. She carried Andraste's ceremonial spear proudly before her as she stalked out into the gathering. Clad only in her warrior's torc and a long skirt of white buckskin, that rode low on her hips revealing to all the tattoo of the Lady, her bared upper body revealed to all the blatant Roman scars that crisscrossed her back and sides. The woad painted badges of courage and survival stood out stark and shocking against her milk pale skin.

An angry hum filled the great hall as the gathered clans saw the sacrilege done to the Lady of the Land. Boudicca moved to the edge of the raised dais where once, in happier days, she had held court. Where once she had lavishly hosted various clans, some of who now filled the great hall. Clans summoned together by the call of the one who had made their kings, summoned by the Lady, summoned by the Queen of the Iceni who had done much for her allies in the past.

She waited patiently for the muttered comments and angered growls to die down before addressing them. Not even her bardic training could hide the hoarse croaking sound that issued from her, carrying harshly to the farthest corners of the hall. Her beautiful voice destroyed forever by her heart-wrenching screams of that terrible day.

"When the Romans first came to our shores, they marched about but did little harm," Boudicca croaked. "They came under the banner of their puffed-up self-important little leader Julius Caesar. They foolishly dug into the beach where they could not gain much of a foothold. They offered us small battles and opportunity for our young to earn their torcs. Yet the Romans knew they had no reason to stay. So they made treaty with us and went away. Caesar left no lasting mark on us or our people or our ways. We got new trading partners and they got meaningless titles. Everyone was happy.

"But then the Romans returned to our lands in greater numbers like scavengers to a corpse. This time they came with their army and their Emperor. This time they came with their cavalry and their great battle elephants. They came with their families and their slaves. They came with their household goods and their government, wanting all to adopt their foreign ways. This time they came to conquer. This time they came to stay. This time they came to feast on our blood and our bodies."
Cries of outrage rose up from the assembly. Warriors and chieftains alike leapt to their feet shouting over each other. They recounted tales of outrages committed against them and their people by the Romans. Tales of food stolen and fields stripped clean, leaving families to starve. Tales of children stolen to serve as slaves in the Roman towns and garrisons. Tales of villages ransacked. All portable wealth and possessions stripped before the towns were destroyed, leaving people homeless and destitute. Tales of women and young boys being ambushed and raped, some of them even unto death.

Boudicca slammed the Spear of Andraste against the ground. She allowed the pure clean note to resonate through the hall, silencing the assembly quickly and more assuredly than any other means. The anger of the clans could not be allowed to rampage unchecked, it had to be focused and aimed at her chosen target. As the last of the note faded away Boudicca continued.

"We are no corpse, and these scavengers are feeding on us while we are still alive. They poison us with their numbing venom of fine promises and fancy words, lulling us into complacency while they gnaw away at our limbs, so that we will be unable to fight back. The insatiable ravenous maw of the Romans craves all that we are and all that we ever were. They are slowly eating away our way of life. Devouring the way of our ancestors. Passing us through their belly of so called civilization. So that soon we will be naught but Roman waste expelled from them. Used up and forgotten. Worth nothing more than manure to fertilize what had once been our own fields. These Romans will not be satisfied until we are naught but dismembered corpses and rotting bones. This is what it means to be dragged beneath their yoke of Roman civilization. Their yoke of treacherous occupation that they claim are alliances."

"We have never bowed to their yoke Boudicca," one of the Trinivantes' yelled leaping to his feet. "We never made pact with them the way the Iceni did. We never made ourselves client-kings of the Romans…"

Angry shouts filled the hall aimed at the brash Trinivantes man, including those from his own clan. Warriors recalled to him the aid the Iceni had sent to his people during their long struggle. Chieftains pointed out the marks of abuse that riddled Boudicca's body, demanding to know him if he had ever personally suffered such as she had at the hands of the Romans. He was reminded that the Trinivantes were not the only clan to remain free of Roman control. Many people called him a fool for thinking that she had had any choice in the matter. As the anger built up between them, Boudicca was once again forced to ring Andraste's spear to prevent bloodshed amongst those she would have be allies. Once order had again been restored she continued her tirade.

"I speak not of just the Iceni, but of all the clans, all the tribes. Look to what they have done to your own people. The Trinivantes have been driven from their own capital. In the days of the mighty Cunobelin who even the Romans called 'King of the Britons' they made no move, for fear of destruction. Instead they preferred to settle around Camulodunum, calling it the capital of all Britons. Cowards that they are they preferred to offer false friendship and false gifts while they waited, building their forces and biding their time.

"With Cunobelin's death what did they do? They took the city for their own. The Romans drove forth the mighty Trinivantes from their home. They enslaved those they could catch. They stole all your crops, your lands, and your herds, leaving the survivors to starve. Then they used the once mighty Trinivantes fortress to launch raids against the surrounding lands. From the safety of Camulodunum they dragging the people away, stealing anyone and anything they could lay their hands on. No longer did they pretend to be friends of the Trinivantes, now they claimed it all for Rome, claimed all our peoples as property of Rome.

"Not satisfied with just that they built a temple to their Emperor God in Camulodunum, claiming that this mortal was stronger than our gods. In their arrogance they even changed the fortresses proud name to Colonia Claudia. The Romans stole not just the home of the Trinivantes but Camulos' fortress from the god himself. They made the home of strong warriors, strong people into a town for Roman soldiers too old and decrepit to fight.

"The Romans made home for themselves. They created a reason to stay. Yet we did nothing to stop them. We were too caught up in our own clan to clan struggles, in spats that the Romans deftly created for us. They covered our eyes to the truth and we allowed them to, so that none of us called upon the other clans as we should have. Meanwhile the Romans bribed clans, enslaved clans, and continued to create strife between us, turning clan against clan in ways that are not our ways. So we would not even think to call upon each other. We had unwittingly become infected with their disease, their venom that even now eats away our flesh like a wound gone bad.

"Now don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good cattle raid just like everyone else," she laughed, drawing chuckles from her captivated audience. "But I will not do battle against a fellow clan because an invader convinces me that I should. That is not freedom! That is not the old ways! That is not the way of our ancestors! That is slavery! That's fun and games for the Romans. They laugh at our people as they watch us weaken ourselves while they grow stronger off our bloated corpses.
"The Romans think us weak and beaten. They think us cowed, defeated and helpless to oppose them. They are blind fools who will suffer for their arrogance. For I see the hearts and minds of the clans. I see the strength that makes us who we are. It is not dead. Oh no indeed. It is not crippled or maimed. It is alive and ready to burst forth, eager as a young man on his first cattle raid. I see before me proud Trinivantes who have never bent to their yoke. I see strong Coritani, I see the powerful Corvonii and Brigantes. I see uncowed Iceni. I see a mighty warriors and strong decisive leaders, who know the land, who know what is right and natural, who know an unnatural disease when they see it. I see a great gathering of clans from across this land, joined together as allies, needing each other's strengths to withstand the Roman's onslaught.

"Who will be next in their campaign of conquest, if we do not stand together?

"No longer satisfied with picking out the smaller communities, the weaker clans and the poorer folk who want only peace, now they move against those who they once needed as allies. They stole from my people all they had, even their heritage rights. They dared to beat the Queen of the Iceni before all her people like a criminal of Rome. They brutally threw the princesses of the Iceni, girls too young to even put their hair up, to their common soldiers to be publicly raped. If their sworn allies are not safe from their depredations, if their oaths are not valid, if they care nothing for our ways what hope is there for those who would stand alone before them?

"They steal our people, our property, our lives. They rape our daughters and our sons, from youngest babe at arms to those too ancient to fight. They starve our people, attempting to keep us too weak to fight back. They want to force us to give up our clans, our honors, and our sworn word. They want us to abandon our very gods. They want us to forsake even the Bards and the Druids. These Romans are not man nor beast, they are the foulest abomination who know nothing of true honor or beauty.

"Their thirst for destruction and domination is so great that they have even moved against the keepers of the ancient knowledge. They have invaded the sacred fastness of the ancient ones. The Romans have even gone so far as to destroy the groves on Ynys Mon, slaughtering warrior and Druid alike on the sacred isle. Who will be next? Who will we allow to be next?"

Silence filled the great hall as all the assembly was caught in horror and shock at the news of Ynys Mon. Yet no one questioned the truth of the fate she had spoken. In that moment all those gathered recalled that she was the Lady of the Land, and the daughter of Maelan who had once been Arch-Druid. They felt the truth of her words sink into their hearts. They felt the loss and the fearful knowledge of what the loss would mean. Without the Druids who would teach the ancient ways? Who would speak judgement? Who would read the omens and offer the appropriate sacrifices? The gathered crowd knew that not all the Druids had been on the island, but if the Romans were not stopped they would soon hunt all of the wise men down. And then the past of the people would be lost. They could not let that happen, not if they wanted their children to be properly taught, not if they were to remain Celtae.

"The gods are roused," Boudicca growled savagely. " They call on us as the hand of justice. They call on us as the hand of retribution. We must cleanse the taint of Rome from our lands. We must take their reason to stay. Before all that we hold dear is destroyed.

"I call for a Clannada to drive the Romans from our lands and back beyond the sea. I call for a Clannada to march for war! I call for a Clannada for Andraste!" Boudicca called, raising the Spear of Andraste high above her head.

The assembly exploded into howling acclaim, screaming bloodthirsty frenzy. The hall filled with riotous sound, bouncing, echoing, building louder and louder, until it was as if the very hounds of Annwn had been set free to devour the Roman souls. A grim smile stretched Boudicca's face as she looked out over the clans, knowing that the Romans would fall beneath this Clannada. It was just as the goddess had promised.

"What is the plan?" voices called out, drawing the attention of the eager clans back to the business at hand. The intensity of the crowd's focus honed, becoming as sharp as a blade of star metal.

"First we take Camulodunum," Boudicca announced, into the expectant silence. "We cleanse it for Camulos. We destroy the Roman's hold on it and return it to the war-god's breast. We burn their sacrilegious temple from the face of our land. We destroy their homes and their families as they have destroyed ours. We take no prisoners and we take no slaves. We take their reason to stay on our island.

"We are the hand of Andraste. She has shown me Roman Camulodunum fallen beneath our force. Andraste has guaranteed us victory in the cleansing of this land, if we but follow her visions.

"Go and prepare we leave at sunrise tomorrow."

Calls of Andraste and Camulos echoed through the hall as the clans boiled out to prepare to march. As the clans prepared for war, prepared to follow Boudicca to victory.

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