Chapter I: The Emperor of Rome and Boadicae

Aislinn waited as patiently as possible in the very small and incredibly dirty cell. The Romans had left the Celts alone, until now. Why? While bathing in a stream not far from her home, Aislinn had been snatched up and taken back to Rome, quite against her will. Aislinn had a reputation among her people. She was incredibly intelligent and supposedly a magnificent warrior. Perhaps the Romans wanted to make an example of her before invading. Perhaps they just wanted a female for their Caesar and happened to be near her home. Either way, they had entered the highlands without permission and kidnapped her, both very foolish feats on their part. To make matters worse, they had taken away her blade that she had with her in the stream, and her family's prized medallion. She had never taken it off in her life. She seethed and continued pacing until she heard marching down the hallway. It was coming toward her cell. There was nothing for her to hide behind to carry out a surprise attack on anyone that entered. No matter, she would face danger head-on, fearless. The door to the cell opened as Praetorian guards surrounded the entrance. She tensed and breathed a quick prayer as a magnificent specimen of a man entered. He was extremely well-dressed. He was average height, but built like an average highland warrior, this was unusual even for the elite of the Roman soldiers. His hair appeared to be dark; she suspected it would've been dark even without the absence of proper light. Two guards standing beside him each carried a torch. More surrounded her and the man, two seizing her by the arms and holding her in case she tried something. Either this man was incredibly important, or he was the emperor himself. Aislinn examined his eyes in the torchlight. He had a very handsome face. She wondered if some of the blood of her people ran in his veins, he seemed like it.

The guards tried to force her to bow, but the man put his hand up dismissively. "She needs to be cleaned up first. Then bring her before me," he ordered. Aislinn said nothing as he turned and left. All but the two guards holding her left. Another, shorter, much more timid looking man entered. He bowed.

"I am Claude, child. I am to tend to you," he said taking her away from the guards. Aislinn looked angrily at him and began to fight. He held onto her tightly. "I'm going to make you presentable; I'm not going to hurt you." He noticed that she had a universal nervous and indignant look in her eyes common among virgins. He smiled. "Don't worry; I'm unable to harm you in any way. I'm a eunuch."

She relaxed a little and followed. Claude didn't know whether she actually understood him or not. She spoke up in her thick Gaelic accent (which made her Latin quite funny to listen to). "Shouldn't your name be Claudius?" she asked.

He chuckled slightly. "I shortened my name when the emperor shortened me," he explained. Aislinn winced.

"He can't be worth that," she muttered. Claude smiled.

"He's trying to be. I am well-paid," Claude said. He led Aislinn to a room holding a very hot vat of water. She climbed in after taking off the small robe she'd been given upon arriving. Claude helped wash her. He was shocked to find that she under arms, legs, and arms seemed to be shorn smooth. "How do you remove the roughness from your skin?" he asked as they finished.

"I use the blade they confiscated from me. My maithair taught me," she explained. Claude opened the door to the cell and called to a waiting guard. The man brought Claude a bundle of cloth and jewelry. Aislinn's heart leapt when she noticed her prized family medallion in the pile. She grabbed it and put it around her neck. Claude smiled and shook his head. "He must have some measure of respect for you to have allowed you such a favor."

"Good," Aislinn said quickly. She followed Claude as he motioned for them to follow the guards. They walked up, up, up, and up until they reached a beautiful and very large part of the palace. There was a small marble platform with stairs leading up to it surrounded by pillars. On the platform was a large throne, sitting on the throne very majestically, was the emperor. He perked up as she was brought in. Again the guards surrounded her in a half-moon. The emperor began to descend the stairs toward her. Aislinn watched all the men around her bow with their fists held over their chests.

"Hail Caesar Commodus Aurelius, Emperor of Rome," they said in unison. He nodded to them. Without thinking, Aislinn began to walk up the stairs toward him. The guard nearest her grabbed her arm and held her back. "No one approaches the emperor without..." the guard began. Commodus raised his hand to signal for silence.

"She is one of the Celts, Quintus. She hasn't the manners and education that are common in Rome," he said with a half smile. Aislinn glared fiercely at him. She watched him carefully. They examined each other thoroughly with their eyes for a moment. She tilted her head a little. He wanted her to be furious. What was he up to? She allowed him to begin circling her. "You are of the clan Boadicea, yes?" he asked. He mispronounced it, but only slightly. She said nothing and stared at him as he walked around her. He grasped one of her arms and looked at it. "You don't look like you could carry a very heavy sword. Perhaps the bow is your strong suit." He continued circling her. "You're a little on the thin side. Your hair is, most unusual. You're far too pale." He reached down and grasped her thigh. Aislinn reacted quickly, slapping him hard in the face with her left hand. The guards moved to subdue her, but again the emperor motioned for them to be still. He smiled and looked directly into her face. "You have never known a man, have you?"

"Dubhcuin!" she spat at him. He laughed.

"You're not ready to fight me. I think I shall give my men a year to get you ready. You're not nearly what I expected from your land," he said wickedly.

"Neither are you, highness. I expected to find you in the throes of passion with a young lad." The guards snickered for a moment. Commodus glared at her. "Or, perhaps before I came you were engaged in the merciless slaughter of an innocent."

"Define innocent, Boadicea. My people are conquerors, but yours tell fancy tales of brothers slaughtering one another to prove their loyalty to the family," he warned.

"Aye, we tell those tales. But we don't act them out in a public display," she countered. He glared lower at her. "We also do not lie carnally with our own families." He slapped her back, just as hard. Aislinn steadied herself as the guards laughed out loud. Her medallion flipped, revealing a forbidden symbol on the other side. The guards that noticed it gasped. Commodus smiled and held it to him.

"You are a Christian," he mused. "This will be wonderful! A year from now, you will face me in the arena. If I win, the highlands will become part of our empire. If you win, you are free to escape. Until then, you will stay here. I will secure quarters for you. You may practice with anyone you choose, with any weapons you choose. But," he got very close to her, breathing what she exhaled. It was saturated with fear and anger. "If you displease me once beyond my patience, I will make a grand example of you to your people. Am I clear?"

She bowed her head slightly. She couldn't do much good or get home if she didn't cooperate a little. "Aye, highness."

He towered over her for a moment and spoke softly. "And I promise you, Boadicea Christian, that on the day you meet me in the arena, you will know a man before the day is through," he hissed with a smile. Aislinn looked up at him in sheer anger. She moved forward to strike him, but stayed her hand. He laughed and walked away. The guards surrounded her once more and took her away.

He is foolish, she thought to herself. Very foolish. But why has he chosen now to begin such a conquest? No matter, I will show him who the true warriors are. Mark my words; before this year ends he will have nothing but respect for me.