Cartimandua's Childhood

   Sometimes I feel that people who might stumble on this (As the gods must know I am living in a fool’s world if I think anyone will stumble one this) --. Nevertheless I do wonder if someone did inadvertently find it, they might think I have taken leave of my senses.   What sane person would regularly communicate with long dead people?

   But to me Julia, daughter of the first Roman emperor:  Tanaquil, the wife of the Roman King Tarquin; Cartimandua, the Celtic woman leader.  To me they are real.  In my imagination we reach across time and space .  We see each other; we talk. to each other; we like each other. And most importantly we tolerate each other.

   So it was when Julia, visibly upset by my story, urged me to talk of something else. Carti was there, not so gently chiding Julia. “I liked Jewellee’s  story about the little girl who no doubt is Jewellee herself. I was a little girl too once, and I have my own little girl story.” She ignored Julia’s exaggerated  sigh and began.

   I was barely nine when mother grasped my hand so hard it hurt. She dragged me to my father, King Orain. ‘This child needs tighter reins. Just look at her.’

   And I was a sore sight. My tunic was encrusted with creek silt; my hair infested with burrs and seeds from the weeds I crawled through trying to creep up on a nesting goose.

  ‘Well Sleek Pony, what do you have to say for yourself?’ I watched Father’s face soften as he looked at me. I knew I was his favorite.

   I rolled my eyes. ‘I have a name. Sleek Pony is for a baby.’

   He scowled. ‘And from the looks of you, it appears you are very much a baby. Tell me, Carti, if I must call you that, where have you been? Everyone’s been out looking for you. I suspect there is a reasonable answer—‘  He stared directly into my eyes. ‘or not.’

   ‘But I..’

   Father cut me short. ‘Your but I matters but little at the moment. Had I time we would explore your behavior, which I must say is not exactly becoming to your station. But now is not the time. Today we’re receiving a guest. Now get yourself cleaned up.’

   My spirits rose.  ‘The Roman peddler?’

   ‘No not the peddler. It’s a young man from the Carvetii. He’s to live with us for a while.’

   ‘Not that. You know how much I hate the stupid boys you take in. They’re dirty and mean.’

   Father laughed without restraint. ‘And you’re clean and sweet?’ He ran his fingers over my burr filled hair. ‘Now Sleek…’ I grimaced and he continued.  ‘Now Cartimandua, you know we have agreements with the Federation. And remember that your brother just last year left for his stay with the Carvetii. Would you have me go back on the agreement? Just what would that mean? ‘ I was forced to look away. ‘And  while you’re thinking about that, wipe that grimace from your face and determine to be civil. Who knows you might just like young  Venutius.’

   I nodded but vowed secretly to hate this new interloper. Could he be any different from the others? They were all the same--- boring, ugly and far from any one a sensible person would want as a friend or lover or the gods forbid a husband.  Overly confident, one after the other they came, from one tribe or another. This new Carvetii would be no different.  And I, a mere girl, a daughter of the king, had no choice but to accept him.

   Out of Father’s sight I ran,  not  to the nursery as ordered, where Gerae no doubt waited with towel and water. Instead I ran to the tannery shed where Cluer, the tanner, greeted me effusively. ‘Carti, you’re out of breath.’

   I drew in my breath and exhaled loudly. ‘Another dumb boy, a prince or something is coming. Like the others and I have to be, as Father calls it, civil.’

   ‘And what is wrong with being civil?’ Cluer looked at me with narrowed eyes. ‘There would be a lot less bloodshed if more people were civil. Tell me, Carti, what could it hurt to be civil to this young man?’

   ‘Uck. How can you say that? They’re all so dumb.’

   ‘Dumb. And what does that mean? You sound like a ten year old brat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Speaking of dumb,’ he continued, ‘how dumb of me. Of course you’re not a ten year old brat. You’re a nine year old brat. Why not give the boy a chance? You might just like him.’

   I lowered my eyes, tried to force tears which would not come. Then I turned ands ran from Cluer’s shed. I would not like that idiot from the Carvetii. I would not

   Carti fell silent. I was mesmerized. Even Julia had hung on her every word. Good old Julia was the first to speak. “And so what happened?”

 
   “I think,” Carti said, “I need to finish my story another day.”

   Julia’s hand flailed, her eyes flashed, her voice filled the room. “I might have known. I might have known. . When?”

   “Next time we’re together.”

  
I might have known.”

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