I didn't really see myself as a feminist icon, more a really, really pissed off woman. The Roman Empire never really had a reputation for women's rights so when my husband died and left his Essex kingdom to me and our two daughters,
Rome had other plans which included invading our region, enslaving us and raping me and my daughters but unfortunately for Rome, they didn't understand who they were messing with, probably the most terrifying female in the history of the world.
As much as they loved an aqueduct, straight roads and plumbing, the toga-botherers were not into female equality but clearly i didn’t get that memo.
With my army, and after quietly counting to 10 under my breath to compose myself, i climbed upon my chariot and plowed a swathe of destruction through one of the greatest empires the world had ever known, first target was their outpost in nearby Colchester but not content with just taking it out, i torched the whole goddamn city to the ground, then obliterated three more on the way to Roman Londinium, massacring 80,000 Roman soldiers in a manner that only fans of Kill Bill could appreciate, there's nothing like the sense of accomplishment that comes from killing tens of thousands of Italians.
The Romans even sent a legion of 4,000 men to stop me but they were soon a collection of various bloody body parts strewn across the street but all good things must come to an end and i was cornered in a forest but rather than be captured, i drank poison and apparently the spot where i was buried is beneath platform 8 of Kings Cross Station but the famous Roman Army were beaten by a woman, arsonist and very, very feisty Essex Girl.
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