posted November 27, 2017 08:42 PM              

Shaemus looked at the tawny haired baby boy asleep in his cradle. His Chieftain's son, and who he would never meet. It was his duty tonight to watch over him.
And if the Queen should enter to feed her son, and they both be gone, the tribe would hunt him down. But, what Catus had said. "We will pay you handsomely if you bring us the boy."
It loomed in his mind. Would he sell Prasutagus's son to his death? But, what the Romans had promised him...Still was it worth being banished from his tribe and eternally hunted?
But why had this come about, because Boudicca would not accept sharing power with them, even though they had promised none would be sold to slavery of the Iceni, and that their grain would go to Rome. But she would groom her son to someday take back the other half of the Tribe that Prasutagus had left to Rome. And in her heart, she hated him. Hated the great man she had once loved so much for this reason.
"For the sake of peace, Boudicca, and you will not go against my will." Shortly after, he had died while she was in her sixth month of pregnancy. And all the tribe had marveled that in her old age she had bore a son. But, should Shaemus do as Catus had bid him?
It loomed in his mind, tossed about. He took the boy from out his cradle and stared down at him.
Ruadri was a baby who did not cry easily, nor stir, peaceful. Shaemus cupped his head and held his body close to him, and still the two month old baby boy did not awaken.
He had made his decision, radically. He would leave all his comfort and posessions behind and after he had given the boy to the Romans, he would leave to seek out a great peace of land and a large house. Indeed, the Romans had promised him anywhere he liked. Women, slaves, and anything his heart desired. If only for the life of his Master's son.
In the dead of night, when the fog was setting over the fields, he left, wrapping Ruadri's face in whool so that he would not have to look at him. For, he was delivering the child to his demise.
He arrived at the camp several moments later. And went to Catus's tent.
"I am pleased to see that you made the right decision." Spoke the head of the Roman army.
Shaemus nodded and outstretched his arms to hand him the bundle which contained the Prince.
"Where do you wish to relocate to, Shaemus?" Asked Borneo.
His voice trembled as he thought of what they were going to do, what he was doing.
"M...Maybe to..to...the West, somewhere near the Isle of Avalon. But his guilt coiled in his stomach as soon as he had said Avalon. The Isle of the Goddess, the Mother Goddess and here he was not the murderer of his Queen's son, but the one who had given him to his murderers.
"Yes, yes it shall be done." You may stay here in the camp, in Leonito's tent tonight." Said Catus. And he left.
Catus slowely unwrapped the blanket from Ruadri's face, there he lay sound asleep. And his eyes filled with tears. It was not this boy's fault, it was his mother's. And it could not be risked. Boudicca could not raise this boy to reclaim the other half of his Kingdom back.
Antonius looked him over and declared he would be the one to do it. In the basin of water, he took the child and held him beneath until the bubbles stopped.
Ruadri, the only son of Boudicca and Prasutagus was dead.

Shaemus slipped into the cot with Leonito.
"Did you do it?" He asked. And Shaemus did not reply so that he knew the answer.
Seegrid was going to hate him. But he had supposed he had lost her love long ago. Neither of the young men slept that night, but they did not speak either.

Miles away in his ship. Tristan awoke from his nightmare. The nightmares never ceased, but now they came every night. The faces of the four women he had raped, and the children that had run from him, their screams.
Too long had he tried to condone it in his mind. He was a pirate, a renegade, this is what was done. Pirates raped, pillaged, robbed and killed. But, Tristan knew it was wrong deep down inside, and he knew too that even before the ship had been given to him, he could have stopped it. But, he was the bigger person, the man, the stronger and his victims WOULD adhere. For years he had been fine with this saying to himself; "Little separates man from the beasts, only our intellect, and does not the stag rape the doe? Does not the wolf ravage his prey?" But, then he had met Ros and since then, it truly tortured him. For, one other thing separated man from beasts and this was feeling, love, empathy, sympathy and he was beginning to know that. Moreso that Ros had told him she had gotten rid of three of his children in her belly, and the sorrow he felt in his heart. What must have the father of the children he had chased on his horse and struck dead with his mace have felt? Tristan could not bring himself to fathom it. But he knew too that for the first time in a very long time, his hardened heart was beginning to crack.

In the morning Boudicca rose happily, and wandered over to the birthing hut, it would be another month before her little son would be able to join her and her daughters in their own hut. Many were already up and going about their business and they bowed to their mighty Queen who strode like a man, straight and sturdy, arms at her side.
Before she entered, she had the sense something was wrong. Her boy did not cry and it was not expected he would now, but no sound emanated from it and it struck her.
She screamed when she entered. And the tribe went to their Queen.
She collapsed and a man caught her up.
"Where is Shaemus!" She cried. "Where is Ruadri!" She demanded.
Seegrid and Ros lay in their bed, but were awakened hastily by Murial.
They rushed to the birthing hut where their Mother was on the ground tearing at her hair.
Boudicca looked at her younger daughter.
"YOU!" She screamed. "This is your fault! You and that Roman lover of yours! You have plotted against me! You and Shaemus!"
"Mathaire..." She began. But Boudicca had already charged at Seegrid and no one dared hold her back as she began to beat her daughter severely.
"Mathaire stop!" Yelled Ros and held her back.
Seegrid was crying and moaning in fetal position. Her nose was bloody. And Donovan picked her up.
"I...I did...I did nothing..." She barely sputtered out.
"I know," said Donovan. "It was Shaemus, he betrayed us not you Seegrid." And he rocked her.

Boudicca took her finest warriors and marched to the Roman camp. For all her grief, she could still carry herself as strong.
The torches from the night still burned and Boudicca grabbed one and flung it upon a tent. She then went to Catus. Her alone, with her sword in hand. As her Warriors and the Roman soldiers broke out in fight.
Catus was still asleep and Boudicca put the sword to his throat.
"Where is my boy?" She demanded. And he woke sheepishly. Though he could feel the blade upon his pulse, he remained calm.
"I do not know." He said.
"You know!" She cried.