It was a blustery, grey sort of day, the kind of day where no sensible person would even dream of going out. Thankfully, I was not a sensible person, which was why I was a writer, and something in me cried to go exploring. I’d learned years ago that one should listen to the voice of desire every now and then, especially when it asked for something so inconsequential, and so I bundled up as best I could and set out.
There were lots of woods and tangled forests near the campus of my university and because I had only been there a couple of weeks, I hadn’t had nearly enough time to explore them all yet. I chose one large forest that was near the general pathway, not wanting to be out exploring all afternoon. The wind kept blowing hair across my eyes until, with some impatience, I stuffed a hat onto my head.
One or two crows cawed as I headed towards the fringe of trees. Startled sheep scampered away from me, as though I were some sort of stalking, foaming at the mouth predator with ill intentions. Every now and then, I tripped a little, for my tall rain boots were just a tiny bit too big.
The trees rustled overhead, like thousands of tiny hands that applauded as I cross the threshold. Dry leaves crackled underfoot for quite some time until I reached a small gate, and the ground gave way to grass again. The gate was stubborn and I had to wrestle with it. Finally, after scolding it thoroughly, it creaked open and I scuttled through, shutting it behind me.
The trees were only a few now, for there was an open field and a large rolling hill that curved around a pond, before meeting up with the rest of the forest. A small, barely worn footpath led me around the pond, on which I could see several ducks settling a disagreement.
The pond was pretty, but in a dark, creepy sort of way. It was a pond from which I could imagine Excalibur being given, and I stopped for a few moments to envision this. Then an indignant duck call brought me back to reality and I walked on to the rest of the forest. Another gate let me in.
Right away, I felt that this forest was different, though I wasn’t quite sure why. The small footpath continued through it, though moss had claimed several sections of it. The deeper I went, the darker everything became, the trees starting to meet over me so that I felt cocooned in. What little wind could make it through the branches whistled eerily, and I shivered. To my left, through thin, long branches, I could see the pond’s dark waters peeping through, and several frogs muttered insults in my direction.
After some time, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t see any light up ahead and that it must be late afternoon now. My heart began to pound as I shuffled backwards, hoping to see anything remotely resembling the pathway. Walking forward slowly, I cried out as a large blackbird flew out right in front of me.
Its’ sudden appearance snapped my last nerve and I turned back the way I had come. Illogically, panic began to take hold of me, though I tried to calm myself. I began to feel more and more scared, as though the forest was closing around me.
Finally, as I turned a corner, light suddenly shone through some bushes and I recognized the gateway. Like all of hell had been set loose upon me, I ran towards it, tripping several times over my infernal boots. Once I was on the other side, out of the woods, I fell to my hands and knees and took several deep breaths.
The strange feeling began to leave me and I had to laugh at how ridiculous I had been. I stood up and began to walk around the pond, but before I got anywhere, a shadow suddenly thundered by me and run up the hill.
Now, it was normal to see a horseman out along the road, but barely ever in the sheep fields. Not only that but the entire look of this horse and rider screamed, ‘not right!’ at me. The horse had a wild look to it, mane mostly loose and very long. It wore no saddle, though it had some sort of medallion hanging around its’ neck.
But the rider was even wilder looking. Her curly red hair hung down to her waist and had at least a dozen small braids scattered throughout it. One hand held the reigns with loose abandon, while the other gripped a long, decorated spear. Her dress seemed to be hand sewn, made of a rather rough material, though her cloak, which fluttered in the breeze, seemed to be made of a much fancier cloth.
My jaw had dropped when I saw her and it continued to stay dropped as the wild woman and her horse stared at me. The look on the woman’s face told me I was the odd looking one, and I wondered if she’d look in a mirror lately. However, I didn’t think it would do any good to hand her the compact mirror I had in my pocket.
“What are you, stranger?” Her voice was gruff but not entirely threatening. Still, though she looked like she belong in a movie, she didn’t seem to be acting.
“M-my name is Victoria.” I said, looking warily at the lethal looking spear. She lowered it only slightly, frowning a little.
“What tribe are you from? Your garments are completely foreign to me. You wear trousers like a man.” I bit back a retort about her own apparel and said, “I’m not from any, uh, tribe. My last name is Wolvertine? I don’t know if that helps you out. Um, and you are…”
It took her a moment to reply. “Boudicca.” She eventually spat out. “Of the Iceni tribe.”
A faint memory tugged at me but I couldn’t capture it, much to my frustration. I found myself suddenly feeling awkward before her though, like a small child before an imposing teacher.
Boudicca was very alert, her eyes never staying still even as she spoke to me. “You’re in dangerous territory, girl. The Romans have patrols everywhere, and if you’re found a lone, well, you know what they’ll do to you.”
I understood her words, but they didn’t make sense. “The…Romans? What are you talking about?”
For a moment we stared at each other, and I was surprised by how familiar her eyes were to me. In fact, I felt like I was starting into my own. She must have noticed the same, for she frowned and shivered a little. “You’re sure you’re not of any tribe? You could easily be of the Iceni.”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so. I mean, who actually knows what tribe their ancestors were in nowadays?”
“What in the name of the gods are you talking about?” She exclaimed, but before I had a chance to explain, we heard hoof beats near us from somewhere beyond the trees. Boudicca swore and kicked her horse over to me. “Give me your hand.”
Completely confused, I did so, and the next moment, I found myself being swung up onto the horse, behind her. An inner argument went on inside myself. One side wanted to get off the impossibly tall horse and logically figure out what was happening. The other side was excited by this sudden, unexpected adventure and wanted to see how it would play out. The second side won.
Of course, as soon as Boudicca kicked the horse again and we flew across the grassy plain, I most sincerely began to curse myself for letting that side win. It took every ounce of strength to stay on the wretched horse, and at one point, when we jumped a fence, I nearly got a second showing of my breakfast. Every now and then, I tried to see what it was were fleeing from, but the horse was moving too fast.
Hours seemed to go by and the violent rhythm began to numb me, until I lost all sense of anything, though I did notice one of my boots slip off and vanish forever at one point. So I was completely startled when the horse suddenly stopped and I nearly fell off. Boudicca slid off gracefully and then waited for me to do the same, showing great faith in my non-existent ability to do so.
Eventually, I sort of half fell and half jumped off and then stumbled after Boudicca as she briskly walked towards a clump of towering bushes. As we turned around them, the low murmur of people reached my ears and I was astonished to see more people, all of them dressed like Boudicca.
Little children ran down a worn out path, laughing quietly as several dogs chased sticks and rolled up clumps of moss that they threw. Women sat in front of sturdy looking huts, either weaving or preparing food that sat in woven baskets. Gathered around a blazing fire sat many rough, wild looking men, their bears long and braided with proud care.
I quickly noticed that despite the laughter of the children, the village had a somber air to it, the faces of the adults looking worn and tight. They all looked up as Boudicca and I entered the perimeter and several of the men stood, looking ready for some great calamity. Though I still didn’t understand what was going on, I began to feel uneasy as well and stuck close to Boudicca as we marched over to the fire.
She stood up on a wide stump so that she was a little higher, though several of the men still came up to her head. “My dear tribe,” she began, and by now, everyone had gathered before her. “I have been scouting far across the reaches of our land and I cannot lie to you. The Romans are marching here and we can expect a visit from them very soon.”
The gathered tribe began to whisper among themselves but Boudicca continued on. “With any luck, they will simply ask about Prasutagus’ death, honor his will, grant me leadership and then leave us alone. I want no trouble.” She eyed several of the younger men, who muttered angrily but not loud enough for her to hear.
After she stepped down from the tree stump and the villagers began to scatter, I followed her to a hut that seemed to be a little more ornate than the others. With slight hesitation, I went in after her.
The hut was simply decorated, leaning more to practicality than comfort. Rough rugs, made of sheep and goatskins, lay all over the ground in a scattered pattern. In the middle was a gentle fire with a dark pot hanging over it. The dry smell of herbs hit my nose and I sneezed, startling a small girl who lay sleeping in one corner. Another girl, a little bit older than the first, appeared from behind a woven tapestry. She smiled at the sight of Boudicca and both girls ran over to her.
The change that occurred in Boudicca’s face was utterly amazing. She went from a hard, tough looking warrior woman to a gentle, loving mother. Tears welled up in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around both her daughters and held them close. “It’s alright, my lambs, I’m home now.”
The scene was so touching and I felt bad at being the cause for its’ end, but of course, the girls noticed me and were curious.
“Mother, who is that?” Asked the older one. The younger one walked over to me and pulled at my brightly colored coat. “Are you….a Roman? You look so funny!” Her face had gone from fascination to interested horror, at which I tried very hard not to laugh.
“No, I’m definitely not a Roman.” I said, and her mouth made a big O at my voice, which must have sounded slightly different. The older daughter frowned at me and said, “You look like mother. Which tribe are you from?”
Boudicca sat down on some skins and her daughters sat with her. “This is Victoria, of no tribe. I found her while I was scouting and couldn’t very well leave her out in the woods.”
“Not of any tribe?” Ask the younger one, as though this was the most absurd thing she had ever heard. The older one was eying my garments suspiciously.
“It’s a long story.” I finally said, though this did nothing to quench their curiosity. Boudicca held up a hand before they could ask any more questions though.
“We must prepare for the Romans’ visit.” She said, standing up and becoming a touch warrior again. Turning to me, she explained. “My husband, who was the leader of the tribe, has recently died and by our traditions, the role of tribe leader should fall to me. However, the Romans need to give their approval.” Her lip curled up at this. “The Romans have no business meddling in our affairs, but they like to think they rule over us. One of these days, we still stop being so cowardly and we will rise up against them!”
“We would all have to unite for that to happen, and such a thing is not easily accomplished.” An old voice said from the entrance. In hobbled an ancient looking man, thin as a scarecrow, and sort of dressed like one too. It was amazing to me that he was able to hold himself up, he was so bent over and was shaking too. To aid in supporting himself, he rested on a twisted and gnarled staff.
“I must speak with you, Boudicca.” He rasped, keeping his dim and sort of creepy eyes fixed on me. The girls ran out and Boudicca helped the old man sit down on an overturned cauldron.
“Your visitor, Boudicca, she is of great importance!” The staff was waved about in the air, rather closer to my face than I appreciated. He was still looking at me, like a cat with secrets did, and I shifted uncomfortably. Boudicca motioned for me to sit and I did uneasily.
“Have you had a vision, Achaius?” She asked, as though having visions was the most natural thing to have happened. The old man began to rock a little bit, nodding enthusiastically. “Look at her! Do you not see the resemblance to yourself? You must train her in our ways! She will be needed!”
His little rant had made me feel terribly uncomfortable and the hut was beginning to grow uncomfortably hot. “Okay, look. I just want to know where I am and why you people are all acting like this! Why do you keep mentioning the Romans and why does it matter if I look like Boudicca?”
I hadn’t meant to get angry but as I spoke, it all just bubbled out of me and by the end, I was standing again, waving my arms and being quite unnecessarily loud.
“Dear child,” the old man said and I gave him a look, but he continued. “You are in the village of the Iceni tribe, in Briton, which is under rule of the Romans. They call it the year 61, though our calendar is different.”
My heart nearly stopped and I felt like I’d been kicked in the guy, and once again, I nearly got a second showing of my breakfast. “61? Are you serious? There is no way!”
They looked at me with dawning understanding. “What…what is the year where you come from?” Boudicca asked, her face a shade paler.
“2013.” I said, and the effect was immediate. Achaius flung up his hands and made some sort of sign, and Boudicca cried out, reaching for her spear.
“Look, I didn’t come here on purpose! It just sort of… happened.” I said quickly, holding out my hands in a show openness. This seemed to calm them a little bit, though Boudicca still gripped her spear.
“I was walking through the woods, where you found me, and it got all dark and strange and then I got out and there you were.” I continued to explain, hoping this wouldn’t set them off again.
“The Hag’s Wood.” Boudicca said to Achaius, who nodded as if this absurd situation now made perfect sense.
“You see, Victoria.” He said, making my name sound strange, “the Hag’s Wood is a place we never go in, because it was cursed by a witch one hundred years ago and since then, strange things happen there.”
“You don’t say.” I muttered, feeling very put out now. “Well, look, whatever it was, it happened, and now I want to go home.”
Boudicca stood and began stirring the cooking pot, which seemed very out of place for her. The old man was absentmindedly tracing the decorated staff, deep in thought. “You must stay here.” He finally said, eyes returning to mine like a hawk narrowing in on a lame rabbit. “I have seen the future and you are needed.”
I looked at Boudicca but she only shrugged. “He’s the seer, not I. What he said must be true, so arguing with him would be pointless. Here, I’ll get you a change of clothing and some boots. Yours seem to have…disappeared.”
Everything in me wanted to argue until I was blue in the face but both of them seemed to set in the decision that had been so quietly made that I knew nothing would be changed. I changed behind the tapestry that, I discovered, divided the hut in half, making a sleeping area in the back. The garments I changed into were very much like Boudicca’s, a long dark brown dress made of coarse material and boots of leather, as well as a cloak. Mine was not made of the fancy cloth.
“Much better.” Said one of Boudicca’s daughters when I stepped out. They had returned soon after the old man had left and now that I was dressed like they were, they seemed less scared of me. The younger one got a rug ready for me to sit on and then she happily nestled next to me while we ate. The stew was quite unlike anything I had ever had before, with a taste like sweetened tree bark and boiled rabbit.
Just before we finished, we heard a commotion outside. Boudicca leapt up and said, “Victoria, go to the back room and sneak through the hole that is behind the smaller tapestry. Run to the woods and hide there until I come get you.”
“What about the girls?” I asked, looking at them. Boudicca shook her head. “The Romans keep a record of all who lives in our village and will want to see every villager. But they do not know you and if they did, things would not go well for you. Now, go!”
Heart beating a little bit louder, I went to do as she said. Once I reached the woods, which were very close to the village, I climbed one of the leafier trees and settled in to watch. The Romans had indeed come to the village, and I could hardly believe my eyes. I was seeing real Romans, dressed in the red skirts and everything.
It was only a small group of them, looking quite official and grim. The villagers had all gathered together to face the Romans, Boudicca walking up to the middle. Words were being exchanged and I strained to hear, but I was too far away to make out what was being said.
At first I thought everything was going well, but then suddenly I heard Boudicca cry out and one of the soldiers grabbed her. He began to drag her towards a post and tied her to it, so that her back faced the man. To my horror, he began to whip her. Meanwhile, several other soldiers had gone into Boudicca’s hut and I closed my eyes as the screams of her daughters reached my ears.
Hours passed before I opened my eyes again. I discovered that I was shaking like a willow branch and it was very hard for me to climb down without falling.
The sun had begun to set and the village was covered in long, creepy looking shadows. Everyone seemed to be hidden away in their huts; I couldn’t even see any dogs roaming around. As I passed the whipping post, I shuddered at the sight of blood that stained the ground.
Feeling unsure of myself, but not knowing what else to do, I entered Boudicca’s hut. Candles lit up the dark little place, making it seem warm and friendly, but the atmosphere was far from that. Boudicca lay on her stomach on some rugs and an elderly woman was tending to her back. Another woman was holding Boudicca’s daughters, both of them asleep now but I saw tracks of tears still on their faces.
“Victoria.” Boudicca croaked, looking up at me with weary eyes. “Sit. Make yourself useful and stir the stew.” Without hesitation, I did so and Boudicca explained what had happened.
“The Romans have refused to honor my husband’s will, because in their barbaric society, a woman cannot inherit so much as a mixing bowl, let alone inherit leadership of a noble tribe. They have claimed all our land for their own as if they have conquered it in battle. And to show their victory, they flogged me and…” she shuddered as she looked over at her daughters and I noticed that her face had gained a colder look to it since last I saw her.
“They have injured us to the highest degree and I refuse to stand for it. They are no great warriors, only cowardly men who would flog a woman and violate innocent little girls. The time of submission is over!”
Her words hung in the air and I shivered violently, despite sitting right next to the fire. In that moment, I felt acutely aware that some great shift had happened and there was no going back now, no matter what. I really wondered what on earth I had gotten myself into.
A week later, after Boudicca’s back had healed enough for her to walk around, she called an assembly of her tribe, as well as another tribe, the Trinovantes. I hadn’t realized that the entire Iceni tribe wasn’t all living in that village and by the time everyone was gathered, they numbered well over one hundred thousand warriors. It was utterly incredible seeing all the angry faces looking up to where Boudicca and I stood.
Achaius and Boudicca had, for the last week, been training me to act and speak just like an Iceni woman. Every detail, down to the way I did my hair, was now nearly identical to Boudicca and though I still didn’t know what all this was for, I found that I quite enjoyed living this life.
Boudicca had introduced me as her younger sister who had long ago been kidnapped and had now escaped the clutches of an evil Roman slaver. It was quite the tale and Boudicca was such a compelling speaker that by the end of it, the Iceni treated me like a sort of hero. Even I half believed the tale to be true.
Standing on top of the tree stump now, Boudicca looked fierce and capable of anything. She began to address all the gathered warriors and I was amazed at how, with only a few to the point sentences, she had riled up the tribesmen so that they called for the blood of the Romans.
“Are we cowards? No! We have only been sleeping but this great injustice has woken us. Let us make the Romans regret they ever did so! Let us drive them from the land that is rightfully ours! Never before have we united and that has been to the advantage of the Romans, but that time is over. Now we unite and together we will bite back and avenge every single wrong they have ever done us!”
Warriors began gathering their weapons and readying horses. I was surprised that the women and children seemed to be getting ready too, but when I asked Boudicca, she shrugged. “Well of course they’re going to fight with us. They’ve been wronged as well, have they not? We are not Romans that we keep the women at home. I’m going to fight, so why shouldn’t they?”
So we started marching, thousands of us. The mood was festive, in a hungry for blood sort of way, and soon I was joining in with the songs that they sang. My previous life in the year 2013 was nothing more than a memory.
The first attack was utterly terrifying and filled me with such exhilaration that I thought I would burst. We took Camulodunum, a place where discharged Romans soldiers rested and whiled the time away. They never knew what hit them and by the time we were done, Camulodunum was just a meaningless name.
The celebration lasted for two days as we devoured the fancy Roman food and wine and sang of each other’s great deeds in the battle. All the while, Boudicca remained rather withdrawn and I finally went to talk to her.
“This battle means nothing.” She said harshly when I asked what was wrong. “Every battle will mean nothing until the Romans flee our land. Only then are my daughters avenged and I can celebrate.”
The next day, she roused everyone up very early in the morning and said, “Today we take Verulamium! I have heard news that the Romans are already beginning to leave their settlements behind and we cannot let them leave without a taste of our weapons!”
We all roared in agreement and set off again, determined for more blood to be spilled that day. Boudicca had given me a horse to ride, which was quite an honor but she said that I would absolutely need to know how to ride one and what better way to practice than to ride all day long.
I was also becoming quite good with the spear and had my own that one of the men had made for me. It felt so natural to have it always at hand, like an extension of my arm and I could see why Boudicca favoured it so.
Verulamium was taken without much of a fight, as it was night when we attacked and they were all asleep. Killing the Romans was like picking flowers in a sunny field and we worked quickly. The blazing flames that burned the city to ashes rose high and brightly in the night sky, probably seen by the Romans now hiding in Londinium, our next target.
Without taking time to rest, we marched over there and again, the battle was short lived. The Romans never had a prayer against our mighty forces and Londinium was burning before the fires of Verulamium had even died down.
The celebration was one that I’ll never forget and it lasted for days. Stories were told, a great many songs sung and I’m sure we drank enough wine to shrivel the liver of a whale. I was at home with these people, adding my own great boasts of what I had down in the battles.
On the fourth morning, I woke up very suddenly and realized that I was going to be sick. Crashing through the trees, I made it to the river and then puked on the bank, till every last bit of substance in my stomach was lying before me. My eyes and throat burned as I bent down to the waters and took a sip. Then, as the waters settled again, I looked at myself in the reflection and nearly cried out in shock.
The face was not my own at all, not how I had remembered it. My hair, having been unwashed for weeks now, was wild and matted like any tribesman, setting the stage for the rest of my face. A layer of dirt seemed to have permeated into my skin and I was horrified to see a streak of dried blood, not my own, running down one cheek. My eyes looked hard and cold like Boudicca’s.
Falling backwards from the waters, I tried to stand and found that I was suddenly too weak to do anything but sit there, trembling. I wasn’t Victoria Wolvertine anymore, but Victoria of the Iceni, a wild woman, a murderer, bent on slaughtering as many Romans as possible.
I was finally able to stand and, shakily, I crashed back to our camp and located Boudicca, who was sitting a little bit away from the camp’s main fire.
“Boudicca.” I said angrily, startling her from her thoughts. She turned to me and I said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go back home. I’m…I’ve become something I’m not.”
She rose to her feet and stuck out her chin defiantly. “You cannot leave now! We are on the verge of our greatest victory, I can feel it. The Roman army is gathered in the valley below us and it is there that we will defeat them once and for all!”
Without waiting for my reply, she turned and stalked away, waking up the others. Anger bubbled inside me but at the same time, I wanted to see this final victory. I’d been a part of this rebellion from the start, so why shouldn’t I see it to the end?
After promising myself that I’d go home after this last battle, I began to get my horse ready for the march. It would most likely take us all day to climb across the ridge down to the valley below and so the battle would probably take place tomorrow morning.
This time, I didn’t join in the songs and jubilation of the warriors, but rode in the back of the group, silently pondering how I had changed and if I would ever be myself again. At one point, Achaius came up beside me and said, “You’ll be needed soon, I can sense it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Look, I’m going home as soon as this battle’s over. So don’t place any high hopes in me, got it?” His eyes narrowed and he looked at me for quite some time but didn’t reply.
That night I could barely get any sleep, a strong sense of foreboding keeping my mind awake. Which only worried me more, because if I was starting to sense things like Achaius, that meant I was really far gone into this place.
Just before dawn, in the grey time when the world looks as if it’ll never be alive again, Achaius shook me awake and motioned for me to silently follow him. I did so and he led me to where Boudicca was. Making sure no one else was awake, he then rolled her over and I nearly shrieked, biting my lip instead until I drew blood.
Boudicca was dead. A Roman dagger was plunged into her heart and her eyes, even colder now, stared up at the slowly lightening sky. Achaius gazed at me steadily, waiting for me to realize what apparently was so obvious to him. “Well?” I finally whispered, glad that we weren’t too close to anyone else.
“Well,” he said, mocking me slightly, “the time has come for you to do what you have been brought here to do.”
“What, do you want me to bring her back to life or something? Because I’m sorry, I never learned how to do that.” I retorted back, feeling angry and sad at the same time. Sad that Boudicca was dead and angry that she had died now, of all times.
“The rebellion will fail without her leading the tribes.” Achaius said patiently. “You must take her place. We will say that the Romans tried to assassinate Boudicca but killed you instead, a reasonable mistake in the dark, for you two look so alike.” He began to tug at Boudicca’s clothing. “You must put on her things and we’ll put her body where you were sleeping.”
It was like one of those nightmares where you go to school and have to make a speech but then you realize you have no idea what the speech is supposed to be on and everyone looks at you like a pack of ravenous piranhas. I wanted more than anything to wake up right there and then, but sadly, this was no dream.
“Make sure you stay away from her daughters, for they’ll know you’re not Boudicca. Other than that, you will be fine, for everyone will be focused on the impending battle.” Achaius said once we had made the switch. I have to admit, as I looked at my reflection in the river, I really did look like her. And I had spent enough time with her that I could easily imitate her.
The sun rose and the people began to wake. Achaius assured me that he would advise me along the way and that we were sure to win. I just had to make the “rally the troops” speech before hand and then lead the battle charge. Really no big deal.
They all looked at me, faces painted and weapons at the ready. “My…people.” It was not a good start and I had to swallow several times before being able to continue. Also, I was riding Boudicca’s horse and it could tell the different, which did not add any comfort.
“The Romans have done a terrible thing.” Murmurs spread throughout the crowd. “Last night, they…erm, sought to murder me.” I let this register in their minds before continuing.
“Instead, they have killed my dear, sweet sister, Victoria. So, let this arise in us a new determination to defeat the vile and evil and wicked and…” I could see Achaius shaking his head at me slightly and I got back on track. “Let us defeat the Romans!” Raising my spear, I let out a war cry, which was taken up by everyone else and even though I was inwardly shaking, I somehow also felt proud of these people.
Achaius had told me that our entire army should meet the Romans in the middle of the field. We were camped on the far end of the valley where the field began and the Romans were cornered in the other end, surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs. Still, I thought of how Boudicca would have planned this and I gave orders for a small reserve to be held back, just in case. I wasn’t going to get cocky about winning this battle.
The sun stood high now and the sky was completely clear. I was at the front of the warriors and we could see, far across the other side of the field, the Romans, all standing in their compact formation. It astounded me, how few of them there were compared to us.
Achaius rode up to me. “You must command the warriors to spread out so that we can fully entrap the Romans.” Somehow, spreading out didn’t seem like the right thing to me, but he then said, “You don’t want any Romans escaping, do you?”
Finally, I gave the command and the warriors spread far and wide so that the Romans couldn’t leave the valley without having to go through us. “Ready!” I cried, spear held high so all could see. Then, with one more great cry, I kicked the horse and we charged upon them.
Being the first one to charge into battle has got to be the most terrifying and amazing thing. To see the face of the Romans as I got closer, how they tried to look brave when I knew they trembled at the mere mention of Boudicca’s name. New strength and courage surged through me as I killed the first Roman and then the battle was in full swing.
The fact that we far outnumbered them made the battle go well right from the start and I was sure we had this. Romans fell left and right and several times, I nearly got their commander, which would have been a bitter blow to them.
Suddenly though, cries began coming from behind us, and as I looked, my heart dropped down to my feet and I grew numb. My reserve warriors were being slaughtered by a second group of Romans, who must have sneaked around last night as we slept. We were thrown into chaos as we tried to figure out which side of Romans to attack.
The Romans before us began to push with new determination and because we were all spread out so much, they took us down steadily. Gradually, we were pushed backwards towards the Romans behind us and then it became a desperate two sided battle for our lives.
Somehow, we ended up getting pushed around until we were in the surrounded part of the valley, with nowhere to flee. The complete Roman army now had us caged in and they slowly struck us down, though everyone fought hard. At one point, a Roman spear struck my shoulder and I nearly went down, held up only by my sheer determination.
The Roman commander gave a cry and gradually, the fighting stopped. Tribesmen faced Romans, full of hatred. The commander said, “We are willing to let the women and children live, for Rome is generous and great, but the rest of you will be executed.”
“Please surrender yourselves.” Said a horribly familiar voice, and we saw that, riding up next to the commander, was Achaius. Though I could say nothing, I suddenly realized that he must have been the one who had killed Boudicca, and that his advice to me was faulty. He had planned this entire thing so that the Romans would have victory in the end.
The others cried out when they saw him and then cursed his name. The women and children, who had also been fighting so bravely, raised their fists against the Romans defiantly, and though I knew we were finished, I had never felt so proud before.
Weakly, for blood was pouring from my wound, I raised my spear and threw it at Achaius with all my might. It struck him squarely in the chest and he toppled from his horse, the shock and hatred on his face telling me that Boudicca had been avenged.
The battle began anew, though it was more of a slaughter now than anything. In the chaos, my horse was killed and I hobbled backwards to the rocks. They were all nearly dead now and I was trying to see if I could climb up the cliffs, to have a better vantage point. As I began to climb, the rock beneath me suddenly collapsed and I was thrown down into a dark hole.
The sounds of the battle were muffled and, after looking up at how high the hole was, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go back out that way. My shoulder wound was literally killing me and I began to feel along the place I had fallen into. To my astonishment, I seemed to be in a long passageway. The darkness was overwhelming though and despite my attempts to see where I was going, I may as well have been blind.
After what seemed like a very long time, there was a dim light ahead of me. Slowly but steadily I crawled towards it, and then suddenly I was falling through bushes, onto wet grass. Daylight burned my eyes and I had to blink several times before seeing where I was.
I couldn’t believe it, but I was in the sheep field next to the dark forest where everything had begun. The pain in my shoulder was gone and then I realized that I was wearing my normal clothes again. I was even wearing the boots that were just a little bit too big. The wind was scattering leaves about and one got caught in my hair, which was clean and quite unwild.
“Victoria, child, are you alright?” An elderly voice called out and I was startled by the appearance of one of my professors. “Yeah, thanks. Um, I just…tripped.”
He smiled and I suddenly realized that he looked like Achaius. The look on my face must have alarmed him. “Are you alright? Didn’t sprain anything, I hope?”
I looked back at the dark woods and promised myself never to go in them again. Then I turned back to him and said, “I’m fine, thanks. I…I just thought of a really good story idea.”
End