I know why Dad won't shoot now.
I arrived in East Anglia at about 55 C.E. It seemed peaceful enough. I mean, I thought there would be a terrible war on or something. But instead, the people seemed content under Roman rule as administered by their king, Prasutagus, who was more a warlord than a king but he was still treating them well enough. Trouble was, Prasutagus was dying. When I got to his stronghold (well, more of a solid fence round the huts but you know what I mean, right?) I found out that he had a dispensation of some kind from the Roman Emperor (an unpleasant bloke called Nero whom I never had to meet thank goodness!) and that at his death the accrued debt had to be paid. His wife was getting all the paperwork (well, not so much paperwork as tribute, gifts, messengers, etc) together under his direction and was nearly completed when he finally died. Peacefully, which made me happy but seemed to disappoint a number of those around him.
I volunteered to go along with the messengers being sent to the Romans at Camulodunum. It sounded like it would be quite an adventure and I was looking forward to meeting the Romans. Besides, the messengers looked like they needed the help.
I was so mistaken about that. A group of warriors showed up and they were tough looking fellows. And girls. There were two women with them. I was gob-smacked! How many ancient societies on Earth had women warriors? Well, I suppose there were a few. I shall have to investigate. But not for a while.
When Queen Boudicca realized I had military experience, she asked me to stay behind and train her troops. I did my best. One of the young men, Gladwin, followed me around quite a bit and I finally took him on as my aide, but if he was wishing for more he was disappointed.
When the messengers returned, several months later, there was bad news. First of all, only one of the messengers and two of the warriors returned. The rest had either been killed along the way or fallen prey to Roman treachery or (and this one is sad) succumbed to a disease that, upon reflection, sounded sexually transmitted. I resolved to keep Gladwin at arm's length for the duration of my stay.
Boudicca was very angry about whatever the messengers told her and she sent more messengers out to neighbouring warlords or tribal chiefs or whatever history chooses to call these people, these kings and queens of ancient times. While we waited for them to arrive, we had some calm time. I taught Gladwin how to use the mobile's camera and he took this picture which shows the fortress on a very pretty day.
I don't believe he ever understood what the camera was for, but that's just as well. He did it to humour me.
But the idyllic time was short-lived as the Romans arrived with their swords and plate armour and attitude. I was shocked at how these humans were harming others of their own species without thought. The Iceni trained hard and I know they fought and died and were killed, but it was done with emotion and with understanding that each warrior stood the same chances. The Romans were ruthless! They came to the stronghold, filled with arrogance and an entirely unnecessary show of arms and force. They demanded to speak to whoever was in charge. When they saw a woman, they scoffed. This served to anger Boudicca who refused to negotiate with them. I overheard two of the Roman soldiers talking and realized she was right to refuse. There was no intent to negotiate; the Romans planned to just take all the Iceni territory for their own.
To understand what happened next, you have to realize that Boudicca had not yet been within sight of the Romans. All of her communications had been via a messenger.
The Romans swept into the stronghold, slaughtering anyone who stood within a sword's reach. I hurried as many of the children and non-combatants out and to safety, then grabbed a sword from a fallen Roman soldier (as you must imagine, the Iceni warrior were not taking this lying down. As it were.) and raced back to help defend the Iceni. When I got close to the hut that served as Boudicca's palace, I heard screaming and pleading and recognized the voices as those of the two daughters of Boudicca and Prasutagus. I wondered what had happened to Boudicca, why she wasn't defending her children, but I had my answer soon enough. She was on the ground outside her dwelling, a Roman sword still in her. Her murderer (for he can be none else in my mind) lay near her, her sword having entered him in his belly and proceeded upwards not only to kill him but do so in the most gruesome fashion she could manage.
I didn't think. I grabbed her sword, wiped it on the grass, and raced into the building. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. The two daughters were held by soldiers as other soldiers were raping them. And making the household, surrounded by Roman soldiers, watch. It was horrible. I screamed, but my screams were drowned out by the screams of everyone else around me. When the last soldier had had his turn at the poor girls (and some seemed to have had more than one) they turned on the household and beat them with hands, fists, and swords. One soldier, seeing that I was holding Boudicca's sword, apparently took me for her because he jumped on me and called several of his fellows over. I gave them a good fight, and thankfully they had no further interest in rape, but when I regained consciousness most of the Queen's household were gone, along with the Romans and anything of value belonging to anyone in the entire village. The daughters were nearly dead.
A number of the Iceni warriors, including Gladwin, had remained with the people hidden in the surrounding forest. When it because quiet, they returned, to find their homes nearly destroyed and over half of the people they were trained to protect gone or dead. It was a long time before the wailing stopped.
I was in pain, but I was angry. So, so angry. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. I have seen battle. I have seen bloodshed. I have never seen this!
A few weeks later, after the dead were cremated (including one of Boudicca's poor daughters) and the roofs and fencing repaired, the other tribes started to arrive. They had heard of the events here and had arrived with their armies, prepared for a great alliance.
As their armies showed up, I helped them train, although not all of them were interested in my opinions, as it turns out not all the tribes held women in the same high esteem the Iceni extended them.
But they soon came to recognize that I had a lot to teach them.
When the generals/kings/warlords (oh I give up! I'm going to call them generals because it fits into my cultural viewpoint) and I decided the armies were ready, we marched towards Camulodunum. I can honestly say I don't remember all of the battle. And I am not displeased at losing the memory. It was bloody. It was horrific. We were as bad as, if not worse than, the Romans. But we were angry. We all were seeing through the blood of our friends and relatives.
I don't believe we would have been near as successful in destroying Camulodunum if the Roman governor had not decided to take almost all of his legions to attack Wales. (Where I do hope he was given an arse-whipping, I truly do, even though my own actions in that time do not please me.)
When we were done, we discussed moving on to Londinium. I was beginning to regret my part in starting this, but went along with the generals decision. Gladwin snapped this with my mobile's camera because he thought it would come to life should I die in battle.
Londinium was equally undefended. It was like tearing down an anthill. Again, the bloodlust of battle called to me and I joined in, even as my intellectual mind rejected what I was doing.
As we left Londinium, I realized something. Many of the soldiers were calling me "Boudicca Reborn." That was eventually shortened to just Boudicca. I did not appreciate this. I had liked and admired the true Boudicca and was loathe to pose as her. But I realized that she would have wanted someone to pick up her sword (as I had. Literally) and carry on the battle so I let it continue.
We then arrived at Verulamium and did what was by now routine. We razed, pillaged, burned, and killed. And when we were done, the troops called my name, and took me to be outfitted as befitted their queen.
But we were low on food, low on energy, and running low on bloodlust. While the latter is obviously a good thing, we were in the middle of Roman territory and things began to deteriorate.
When the Roman legions caught up to us, we could tell it was going to end badly. The generals and I held a conference around the fire, and one of them said, "My Queen, it would go best for our peoples if you were captured or killed."
Needless to say, I wasn't enthusiastic. I doubt there is a Time Lord alive who would deliberately choose forced regeneration. Then Gladwin came up with the solution. One of our own fallen warriors was a woman with a build similar to mine and similar coloured hair. He suggested that her body be dressed in what was by now my clothing, her body painted to match mind, and it be left for the Romans to find. Then, after a decent interval, our armies would disband and return to protect our own peoples. Their own peoples. I'm still having problems separating myself from them.
So that is what we did. Gladwin and I made our way back to his village, where it turned out the children had kept my shuttle safe and relatively clean. Gladwin begged me to take him along but I just couldn't. He belonged with his people. And, it turns out, with his wife and three children. It was just awkward.
I hugged and kissed as many people as I could, got into my shuttle and left.
Once I was alone in space it hit me. What I had done. What had been done to people I loved. What had happened in the name of advancing human civilization.
I'm going off to be alone for a little while. Please tell The-Doctor-Who-Is-Not-My-Dad this:
I wasn't made of you. I was made of your successor. I was made of a man who never would. Never would kill, never would harm anyone without reason and without giving them a chance to stop their destruction first. And he was made of you. I understand now why you are so sad. And why my dad never would. You'll be fine, Doctor.
I volunteered to go along with the messengers being sent to the Romans at Camulodunum. It sounded like it would be quite an adventure and I was looking forward to meeting the Romans. Besides, the messengers looked like they needed the help.
I was so mistaken about that. A group of warriors showed up and they were tough looking fellows. And girls. There were two women with them. I was gob-smacked! How many ancient societies on Earth had women warriors? Well, I suppose there were a few. I shall have to investigate. But not for a while.
When Queen Boudicca realized I had military experience, she asked me to stay behind and train her troops. I did my best. One of the young men, Gladwin, followed me around quite a bit and I finally took him on as my aide, but if he was wishing for more he was disappointed.
When the messengers returned, several months later, there was bad news. First of all, only one of the messengers and two of the warriors returned. The rest had either been killed along the way or fallen prey to Roman treachery or (and this one is sad) succumbed to a disease that, upon reflection, sounded sexually transmitted. I resolved to keep Gladwin at arm's length for the duration of my stay.
Boudicca was very angry about whatever the messengers told her and she sent more messengers out to neighbouring warlords or tribal chiefs or whatever history chooses to call these people, these kings and queens of ancient times. While we waited for them to arrive, we had some calm time. I taught Gladwin how to use the mobile's camera and he took this picture which shows the fortress on a very pretty day.
I don't believe he ever understood what the camera was for, but that's just as well. He did it to humour me.
But the idyllic time was short-lived as the Romans arrived with their swords and plate armour and attitude. I was shocked at how these humans were harming others of their own species without thought. The Iceni trained hard and I know they fought and died and were killed, but it was done with emotion and with understanding that each warrior stood the same chances. The Romans were ruthless! They came to the stronghold, filled with arrogance and an entirely unnecessary show of arms and force. They demanded to speak to whoever was in charge. When they saw a woman, they scoffed. This served to anger Boudicca who refused to negotiate with them. I overheard two of the Roman soldiers talking and realized she was right to refuse. There was no intent to negotiate; the Romans planned to just take all the Iceni territory for their own.
To understand what happened next, you have to realize that Boudicca had not yet been within sight of the Romans. All of her communications had been via a messenger.
The Romans swept into the stronghold, slaughtering anyone who stood within a sword's reach. I hurried as many of the children and non-combatants out and to safety, then grabbed a sword from a fallen Roman soldier (as you must imagine, the Iceni warrior were not taking this lying down. As it were.) and raced back to help defend the Iceni. When I got close to the hut that served as Boudicca's palace, I heard screaming and pleading and recognized the voices as those of the two daughters of Boudicca and Prasutagus. I wondered what had happened to Boudicca, why she wasn't defending her children, but I had my answer soon enough. She was on the ground outside her dwelling, a Roman sword still in her. Her murderer (for he can be none else in my mind) lay near her, her sword having entered him in his belly and proceeded upwards not only to kill him but do so in the most gruesome fashion she could manage.
I didn't think. I grabbed her sword, wiped it on the grass, and raced into the building. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. The two daughters were held by soldiers as other soldiers were raping them. And making the household, surrounded by Roman soldiers, watch. It was horrible. I screamed, but my screams were drowned out by the screams of everyone else around me. When the last soldier had had his turn at the poor girls (and some seemed to have had more than one) they turned on the household and beat them with hands, fists, and swords. One soldier, seeing that I was holding Boudicca's sword, apparently took me for her because he jumped on me and called several of his fellows over. I gave them a good fight, and thankfully they had no further interest in rape, but when I regained consciousness most of the Queen's household were gone, along with the Romans and anything of value belonging to anyone in the entire village. The daughters were nearly dead.
A number of the Iceni warriors, including Gladwin, had remained with the people hidden in the surrounding forest. When it because quiet, they returned, to find their homes nearly destroyed and over half of the people they were trained to protect gone or dead. It was a long time before the wailing stopped.
I was in pain, but I was angry. So, so angry. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. I have seen battle. I have seen bloodshed. I have never seen this!
A few weeks later, after the dead were cremated (including one of Boudicca's poor daughters) and the roofs and fencing repaired, the other tribes started to arrive. They had heard of the events here and had arrived with their armies, prepared for a great alliance.
As their armies showed up, I helped them train, although not all of them were interested in my opinions, as it turns out not all the tribes held women in the same high esteem the Iceni extended them.
But they soon came to recognize that I had a lot to teach them.
When the generals/kings/warlords (oh I give up! I'm going to call them generals because it fits into my cultural viewpoint) and I decided the armies were ready, we marched towards Camulodunum. I can honestly say I don't remember all of the battle. And I am not displeased at losing the memory. It was bloody. It was horrific. We were as bad as, if not worse than, the Romans. But we were angry. We all were seeing through the blood of our friends and relatives.
I don't believe we would have been near as successful in destroying Camulodunum if the Roman governor had not decided to take almost all of his legions to attack Wales. (Where I do hope he was given an arse-whipping, I truly do, even though my own actions in that time do not please me.)
When we were done, we discussed moving on to Londinium. I was beginning to regret my part in starting this, but went along with the generals decision. Gladwin snapped this with my mobile's camera because he thought it would come to life should I die in battle.
Londinium was equally undefended. It was like tearing down an anthill. Again, the bloodlust of battle called to me and I joined in, even as my intellectual mind rejected what I was doing.
As we left Londinium, I realized something. Many of the soldiers were calling me "Boudicca Reborn." That was eventually shortened to just Boudicca. I did not appreciate this. I had liked and admired the true Boudicca and was loathe to pose as her. But I realized that she would have wanted someone to pick up her sword (as I had. Literally) and carry on the battle so I let it continue.
We then arrived at Verulamium and did what was by now routine. We razed, pillaged, burned, and killed. And when we were done, the troops called my name, and took me to be outfitted as befitted their queen.
But we were low on food, low on energy, and running low on bloodlust. While the latter is obviously a good thing, we were in the middle of Roman territory and things began to deteriorate.
When the Roman legions caught up to us, we could tell it was going to end badly. The generals and I held a conference around the fire, and one of them said, "My Queen, it would go best for our peoples if you were captured or killed."
Needless to say, I wasn't enthusiastic. I doubt there is a Time Lord alive who would deliberately choose forced regeneration. Then Gladwin came up with the solution. One of our own fallen warriors was a woman with a build similar to mine and similar coloured hair. He suggested that her body be dressed in what was by now my clothing, her body painted to match mind, and it be left for the Romans to find. Then, after a decent interval, our armies would disband and return to protect our own peoples. Their own peoples. I'm still having problems separating myself from them.
So that is what we did. Gladwin and I made our way back to his village, where it turned out the children had kept my shuttle safe and relatively clean. Gladwin begged me to take him along but I just couldn't. He belonged with his people. And, it turns out, with his wife and three children. It was just awkward.
I hugged and kissed as many people as I could, got into my shuttle and left.
Once I was alone in space it hit me. What I had done. What had been done to people I loved. What had happened in the name of advancing human civilization.
I'm going off to be alone for a little while. Please tell The-Doctor-Who-Is-Not-My-Dad this:
I wasn't made of you. I was made of your successor. I was made of a man who never would. Never would kill, never would harm anyone without reason and without giving them a chance to stop their destruction first. And he was made of you. I understand now why you are so sad. And why my dad never would. You'll be fine, Doctor.