Boudicca: Britain's Queen of the Iceni (The Legendary Women of World History Book 1)

Boudicca: Britain's Queen of the Iceni (The Legendary Women of World History Book 1)

by Laurel A. Rockefeller


Publisher Laurel A. Rockefeller

Published in Children & Teens (Young Adult)

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Book Description

Why is The Morrigan's raven crying? Only Britons with hearts for true liberty know!

In 43 CE Roman conquest of Britannia seems all but certain - until a chance meeting between King Prasutagus of the Iceni and a runaway slave of royal decent from the Aedui tribe in Gaul changes the fate of the British islands forever.

Rise up for liberty with the true story of Boudicca: Britain's Queen of the Iceni and discover one of the most inspiring stories in history!

Based on the accounts of Roman historian Tacitus and supplemented with archaeology presented by the BBC.

For children, teens, and adults.


Sample Chapter

Several days later, war trumpets heralded the arrival of a group of twenty soldiers and five centurions dispatched from the Roman capital of Camulodunum, the once great capital of the Iceni's southern neighbor, the Trinovantes.  This was a relatively small force for the Romans to send, a sign that the Roman governor expected little trouble enforcing Prasutagus’ will and claiming the Iceni for Rome.  At the head of this group marched Centurion Marcus Vetus, the son of a legionary born among his mother’s Aedui tribe near the Seine River.  As he approached the fortification guarding Boudicca’s village, Boudicca could not help staring at the man who looked far more Aedui than Roman.  Resolutely Boudicca intercepted him, “Who comes to the heart of the Iceni?”


“I, Centurion Marcus Vetus come in the name of Nero and his imperial governor Gaius Suetonius Paullinus.  Your king is dead; your kingdom now belongs to us.”

“No, Centurion.  It belongs in equal measure to my daughters and to Nero. Until our people deem them ready to rule, I rule as queen as is my natural right as Prasutagus’ widow and by the customs of all British people.”

“You are a woman; you have no rights under Roman law.”

“But I do under Iceni law,” countered Boudicca.

“There are no Iceni now, only slaves,” proclaimed Marcus, seizing Boudicca before she could draw her sword.  With the help of another centurion, Marcus bound and gagged the struggling Boudicca and her daughters, forcing them to watch as the remaining soldiers spread across the village.  Every Iceni, armed and ready for the attack within hours of Prasutagus’ death, challenged the soldiers resolutely, creating a great noise.  With the Roman attention entirely on the battle, Linet slipped quietly out of the village in order to raise the alarm across Britannia.


Half an hour later, the red blood of the defeated defenders mingled with the blue war paint on their bodies. Among the wounded survivors were Prasutagus’ younger sister, Princess Maëlle.  Too hurt to keep fighting, a centurion bound her and dragged her.  Boudicca looked into the centurion’s lustful eyes, his intent to make her a slave of his bed chamber obvious to her after her own enslavement.  This was a fate far worse than death, Boudicca knew, yet also a traditional fate the Romans gave to nobles from conquered tribes.

Certain of their victory and with no further challenges from the people, the Roman soldiers went into each home, taking everything they could of value to them, seizing anyone still alive among Iceni nobility, and smashing much of what they could not or did not wish to take.  Lighting torches, they threw fire onto the thatched roofs, sending half of the village into flame.

Finally, they turned their attention to Boudicca and her daughters, still bound and gagged and under Marcus’ control, though all three struggled to free themselves.  Marcus sneered at Boudicca, “Our governor tells me you were once a slave amongst the Aedui – is it true?”

“I am queen of the Iceni, the chosen vessel of Cathubodva,” proclaimed the queen.

“Such fire and hatred,” noticed Marcus. “Only a slave feels such hatred.”

“Or a woman,” countered Boudicca.

“Slave, woman, barbarian – what is the difference?  You, Boudicca, are all three!”

“There is a saying among my people, Centurion.  Be careful of the warrior whose cause is just – but be terrified of the woman scorned and battle ready.  For her strength is greatest of all!”

“Really?” laughed Marcus, signaling at two soldiers.  Dragging out Alys and Morgan to where all could see, the Romans beat them to the ground, bruising and bloodying them before ravishing them and destroying their virtue.

Marcus laughed as he observed Boudicca’s anger, “Jealous, slave?”

“You invite the wrath of all our goddesses and gods.  Barbarians you call us?  There is no word for the violence and brutality you’ve done to them!”

“Done?  I’ve just begun.  Perhaps I should make you my personal slave for my bed chamber, eh?” considered Marcus cruelly.  “No … I think not.  A proper slave knows her place.  I have a better idea!” With a flick of his wrist, he motioned for Boudicca to be tied to a charred post to what was once Boudicca’s beautiful and luxurious home.  Forcing both Alys and Morgan to watch, he personally flogged the queen with thirty lashes of his whip, expecting her to scream with pain.

Proudly, Boudicca refused to scream.  Looking at his victim and now certain she too was now beaten into submission, Marcus picked up Alys and Morgan and took them along with the other captives and plunder, leaving Boudicca alone with the remains of her kingdom.


As soon as the Romans were out of sight and hearing range, a little girl came up to Boudicca with a knife which she used to cut her queen’s bonds, “Your highness, what shall we do?”

“First, we must bind up our wounds.  Get whoever is left and strong enough to search the village for clean linen or wool we can use to help the injured.  See if the Romans left us with honey and with any ground oats which we can use on the wounds.  Once we stop the bleeding and stabilize the hurt we must check our food supplies and ensure everyone eats today – especially the injured.  We are only as strong as our weakest person.  Now is the time we must all come together,” commanded Boudicca.

“But what about the Romans?  We cannot let them get away with our people like that?”


“If we can free them, we will – but not today.  We do not have the strength.  We must heal, recover our strength.  Then, once we are ready, I swear we will fight back.  Let the ravens of Cathubodva come now to us, let her power fill us!  We are not defeated.  This is not over!”

Excerpted from "Boudicca: Britain's Queen of the Iceni (The Legendary Women of World History Book 1)" by Laurel A. Rockefeller. Copyright © 2014 by Laurel A. Rockefeller. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Author Profile

Laurel A. Rockefeller

Laurel A. Rockefeller

Born, raised, and educated in Lincoln, Nebraska USA Laurel A. Rockefeller is author of over twenty books published and self-published since August, 2012 and in languages ranging from Welsh to Spanish to Chinese and everything in between. A dedicated scholar and biographical historian, Ms. Rockefeller is passionate about education and improving history literacy worldwide.

View full Profile of Laurel A. Rockefeller

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