“Face me then, Coel ap Tegfan, and tell me of your fathers.”
Coel turned from the wall and stared deep into his father’s eyes. “I am Coel, son of Tegfan, son of Teuhant, son of Tyddbwyll, son of Urban, son of Gradd, son of … Rrivedel.” His chest swelled with pride; to be the son of kings, all down through the long years. Eyes locked on his sire’s, he almost thought he could see the generations of all those who came before him.
He continued, focusing intently. “Rrivedel, who regained his throne from the Romans, was the son of Retigern, son of Oudecant, son of Outigar, son of Ebuid, son of … Endos, son of Eudelen, son of Eugein, son of Avalloch, son of Bedelia, who was a daughter of Boudicca, Queen of the Iceni, who fought against the Romans.” His voice faded, and he imagined at the end, in his father’s countenance, he had glimpsed the face of the Iceni Queen.