Do We Really Choose?

   'That standing pants tale.' Julia's piercing voice cut through the silence. 'Ladies, did you read that? How endearing. How many of us had such a romantically experience in deciding whom we would marry? Certainly not I-- not for any of my three marriages. I had very little, if at all any. As I am sure is the same with you.'
   'Not the case with me,' Tanaquil said. 'I chose my man, over the harsh objections of my family. With harsher warnings from the priests, and with the rejection of the whole Lydian population. Surely I have shared with you my meeting with Lucomo.'
   'Not that old story about falling into his lap at the games', Julia did not fall easily to arguments questioning her prejudices.
   'I too made my decisions,' Carti said. 'Jewellee has done a fine job describing it. There was that horrid interloper from a northern tribe. He came as a foster son to us. I hated him. At least I think I did. For the most part all the foster sons were bothersome. But then my cousin, Branwen, -- the vamp she was-- set her sights on him. It was disgusting and degrading how she threw herself at him. And he took notice. Oh did he take notice. But then how does a hot blooded man not react to over exposed breasts and endless flirting? I decided she would not have him. Don't let me go on and on. Read Jewellee's account.

        

                   FROM JEWELLEE'S ROMAN CELTIC QUEEN 

Cartimandua peered into her father's workroom.  King Orain, his back to the door, twisted the left side of his long mustache as he leaned forward to examine the sword on the wall. Presented to him by the king of the Parisi, who had extolled the hardness of the iron from which it was forged, it had  not yet been used.

"Is it true," Cartimandua once asked when she was but a child, "that the Parisi once lived where Vercingetorix did?" 

Orain had dropped the shield he was polishing. "Vercingetorix? What do you know of him? And how?"

She had shrugged; then she shrank under her father's piercing stare. "Somebody said it. Sometime."

"You amaze me, daughter." Smiling with obvious admiration he had added, "As far as I know the Parisi are no more related to Vercingetorix than you or I." Then he fell silent. She had never gotten around to asking him again. Someday  maybe.  Cartimandua watched her father, occupied with his thoughts. She bumped the stool near the door, toppling the basket of torcs to be presented to the young recruits at their next inspection parade. 

"Is 'not to be disturbed' an unclear order?"  Orain turned to see his daughter backing away from the door.  "Wait," he ordered and burst into laughter.

Finally he stopped laughing and dabbed at the tears running down his cheeks. "What do I see before me?  Can this really be my Sleek Pony?  And with properly braided hair and -- if I may say so -- a charming tunic, with as far as I can tell not a single grass stain.  And a shawl."

Cartimandua winced at the 'Sleek Pony'. Orain's eyes softened when she did not protest. "Well Cartimandua, what is so important that you need to interrupt me when you know I am at work and specifically asked not to be disturbed?  Or is it that you just wanted me to see you all decked out and were afraid you'd tire of maintaining your appearance until I'm done here." She reddened.  "Well what is it?"

"Father, I wish to marry."

His smile fell away.  "Marry? Did you really say marry?"  She nodded.

"I see.  You wish to marry.  And just whom, if I may ask, do you have in mind? Just whom do you wish to marry?"

"Venutius."

He shook his head while keeping his eyes on her. "Venutius?  The same Venutius you said you detest? The same Venutius you've done everything imaginable-- and some things quite unimaginable-- to irritate.  With the hope, I'm told, to have him go running back to the Carvetii?"

She lowered her head to avoid her father's stare. "Cartimandua, look at me.  You're seriously telling me you want to marry Venutius?"

She met her father's stare.  "Yes."

"And just when did you decide this?"

She shrugged.  "Just lately." She could not confess it was because her cousin wanted him.

"And does Venutius agree?"

"I don't know."

Orain crossed his arms across his chest.  "A permanent connection," he said, "with the Carvetii can only help the Brigantian Federation.  And young  Venutius is quite suitable, I would say. He is turning out to be a promising warrior, better than either of your brothers.  And if what I hear is true better than his brothers.  But are you serious?"  He smiled softly as he looked on face of his most promising child. "I rather imagined Venutius with someone like Mertha or Branwen.  I see the way he looks at them, especially Branwen."

Cartimandua's eyes twitched as she drew her lips tightly across her teeth. The King shook his head.  "As do you, I see.  Well, I'll take the matter under consideration. Now I have work to do."  He waved his hand to dismiss her.  "And Cartimandua, maybe you'd better find your young man and present yourself before you've lost your shawl and dirtied your tunic."

She heard his laughter as she left, but could not know the joy he felt. His chosen heir had made an entirely satisfactory proposal.

   'So,' Carti said. 'My father may have agreed, but it was I who made the choice So your highness, you are not so right this time.'  In a rare time of silence Julia sat sullen and withdrawn.