Boudicca, page 20
In the center of the field was a large circle that was clear of the press of people. I stopped there, gazing around at the warriors who were so familiar and so dear to me. Addedomaros and the Trinovantes shield, Mailcun, stood across from me beside Cadoc, Abertha, and Maldwyn. I noted several scarlet cloaks scattered among the woad blue of the Iceni. That pleased me.
Briallen stood between my girls, their half-grown wolves at their sides. Though the Iceni pressed around them, Enfys and Ceri appeared as calm as their pups.
I did not see Rhan but knew she had to be close.
“Iceni seer, come forth!” I shouted.
To my right the warriors rippled and parted enough to allow Rhan through. She carried an elaborately stamped bronze pitcher and a woven reed cage that held one of the sacred hares that were raised in a hut behind my lodge, bred for their color, size, and temperament. This creature was large—much bigger than a wild hare. Except for the woad-colored crescent painted on the creature’s chest, its coat was white and gleamed with health.
Rhan’s entrance was dramatic. She hummed a hauntingly melodic song as she circled me thrice before she stopped in front of me, put the cage at my feet, and, still holding the bronze pitcher, turned to face the raptly watching crowd.
The change that possessed Rhan when she performed the rites and rituals of a seer always amazed me. It was as if she shed mortal trappings and took up the mantle of the gods. Her blond hair washed down her slim back, and her eyes, always expressive, gleamed like deep water.
Rhan raised the pitcher so that her forest-colored robe fell back, exposing the tattooed Ogham symbols that circled her slender biceps. Her bare feet began to stomp rhythmically, da-da, da-da, da-da, a strong, steady heartbeat. She gestured, and the Iceni joined her until the field was one beating heart.
Then, in time with the tempo the tribe kept, Rhan began to dance a circle around the caged hare and me. As she did so she poured a libation from the pitcher. The sweet, familiar scent of strong honey mead laced with lavender perfumed the air while Rhan invoked Andraste.
“Wind, whisper Queen Boudicca’s petition to the goddess of the Iceni, blessed Andraste. Fire, blaze Queen Boudicca’s petition to the goddess of war, our Andraste. Water, wash Queen Boudicca’s petition to Andraste, goddess of wealth and plenty. And, earth, let even the rocks sing Queen Boudicca’s petition to the goddess of the harvest.”
Rhan ended the invocation in front of me. She placed the empty pitcher on the ground, opened the cage, and lifted the hare so that I could whisper my petition to it, and through the little creature to Andraste. All around us my people continued to stomp a heartbeat that filled the field.
But I had decided to change tradition. I raised my hand and the people stilled. Rhan’s gaze met mine. She did not look at all surprised; instead she dipped her head in agreement.
“Iceni and Trinovantes, I will not whisper my petition to Andraste. Instead, I would shout it so that all may witness my question as well as the goddess’s answer. I refuse to repeat mistakes made before me.” I would not list the faults of Prasutagus that had led us here. Everyone present knew them. But I also would not pretend as if he had been infallible. The longer I ruled alone, the more I understood what had driven my husband to ignore the signs sent from Andraste—something he could not have done had the Iceni witnessing those signs heard his whispered petition. So I did not whisper to the hare. I shouted and was glad that the creature had been bred for a calm temperament, because instead of startling and struggling to get away from me, its brown eyes watched me calmly, as if it listened closely to every word. “Andraste! Your Victory seeks sign! Is it time to serve our vengeance to the Romans? I beseech you, mighty Andraste, show me your will!”
When I’d finished speaking, the hare began to struggle against Rhan’s hold. The Iceni seer placed the creature at my feet and it sprinted, circling me thrice, before it dashed south—in the direction of Camulodunum. As it darted into the watching crowd, people parted, but not just for the white hare. There were several shouts, and then a wide area was suddenly clear and five hares raced after the goddess’s messenger. They were wild hares, smaller and brownish gray. Single-minded, the creatures ignored everyone except the sacred hare as they all ran southward and directly toward a large cook fire that marked the beginning of the corrals. For a moment it seemed all six hares would hurl themselves into the fire, but at the last moment they darted around it and disappeared into the south.
I looked to Rhan. “Seer of the Iceni, what say you of this sign from Andraste?”
Rhan spoke, projecting her voice throughout the field. The power of her words shivered across my skin. “Andraste’s hare circled Queen Boudicca three times before racing to the south and being joined by five wild hares. The goddess’s sign is clear. The queen must travel to Camulodunum and back in three days. Five days after that, the Iceni, joined by Tribe Trinovantes, will burn the city to the ground.”
I blazed with Rhan’s words, lifted one fist to the sky, and shrieked the Iceni war cry. The tribe took up my cry and it mixed with the whooping of the Trinovantes so that as the sun retreated into the horizon it seemed to do so in response to our voices.
Chapter XXII
“You know you cannot enter Camulodunum without being recognized by the Catuvellauni. They’ll immediately report you to the Romans. At best they will be more vigilant in guarding the city. At worst Paulinus will send for the Ninth Legion to reinforce the centuria stationed there, the centuria that attacked Tasceni.” I spoke quietly and firmly to Addedomaros. “You cannot join me until we ride at the front of our combined armies and burn Camulodunum to the ground.”
I would always feel the affection of a foster daughter for the Trinovantes chief, but he did not rule in Tasceni and all I owed him was the courtesy of hearing his words—not following them. He sat on my right, at the place of honor at the head table within my lodge. To his right was his son, Adminius, and beside him was Mailcun, the faithful Trinovantes shield. The evening meal had a feastlike quality as Tasceni celebrated the battle sign Andraste had given. I did not want that spoiled by Addedomaros’s petulant insistence that he must join me to reconnoiter in Camulodunum.
“Queen Boudicca, if I may?” Rhan, who sat on my left with Cadoc, Abertha, and Maldwyn seated beside her, leaned close to me and spoke so that her voice did not carry farther than our table.
“Of course, Rhan,” I said.
“I do not see why she should speak!” Adminius snapped. Several heads turned toward us at the sound of his sharp words. Rhan’s brother had visited with his father only a few times during the past several months. I had not known him well when I fostered in his home. He was two years younger and had not shown any interest in his sister or me, or really anything except himself. I’d thought him petulant and selfish, when I thought of him at all.
“Rhan speaks because I have given her leave to speak and I am queen here, Adminius.” My voice was just as sharp, though considerably quieter than the Trinovantes chief’s son. “You would do well to remember that she is seer of the Iceni, conduit to Andraste, appointed by Derwyn himself.”
When Addedomaros looked as if he would protest, Mailcun spoke up. “My chief, it is proper that the seer speak.”
Addedomaros blew out a long breath as he ran a hand through his thick hair. He nodded, turning to his son. “Mailcun is wise, as is the Iceni queen. Of course Rhan should speak.” He looked around me at Rhan. “Sometimes I forget that you are a gifted seer and not simply my daughter.”
And if you or your son insults my seer again, you will be very sorry. The words were on my tongue, but I pressed my lips together and held them in. It would not serve me to threaten my only ally. Instead I nodded for Rhan to continue.
Rhan leaned forward again so that she could keep her voice low. “The sign Andraste sent was clear. The hare circled Queen Boudicca thrice before the wild hares joined it. The Iceni must make the first foray into Camulodunum alone, for the very reason Boudicca gave—a reason I know the chief of the Trinovantes must agree with.”
Addedomaros nodded. “Yes, yes, yes. But to remain behind is difficult for this old warrior.”
“And yet you will remain behind,” said Rhan. “Because you are not just an old warrior. You are a wise old warrior.”
“Excellent point,” said Cadoc through a mouthful of wild boar pie. “Should you join us I doubt we would be allowed to leave the city.”
“Agreed,” I said to stop the pointless discussion. “Cadoc, Maldwyn, and I leave for the city in the morning.”
“What of Abertha?” asked Cadoc. Abertha was seated beside him and looked up from her plate as she heard her name.
Instead of answering my shield, I stood and waited for the lodge to be silent. When all heads turned to me I said, “As Andraste commanded, I leave for Camulodunum tomorrow. The Iceni who have waited here will leave at dawn to recall all of our warriors to Tasceni. I take with me my shield and my horse master.” My gaze went to Abertha. “While I am gone, my spear master, Abertha, will oversee the last of the preparations for war.”
“As you ask, so will I do!” Abertha’s voice rang with pride and the warriors pounded their tables in support of the well-respected warrior.
“I return in three days. Then, following the sign given by the goddess, we will wait five more and then ride to fulfill Andraste’s curse. We will burn Camulodunum to the ground!”
The lodge erupted in cheers and war cries. I sat, and Wulffaed’s legion of daughters and granddaughters refilled tankards of mead until they overflowed.
* * *
We left Tasceni shortly after dawn. Rhan and my daughters saw us off. For a moment I struggled against an urge to have Rhan join us, but I knew better. Rhan wasn’t a warrior and we might have to fight our way out of Camulodunum. It was wisest to keep our group small and swift and ready to fight. Rhan would spend all the days leading up to the battle pouring libations and leaving offerings for Andraste.
“Did you remember to bring an offering with you to leave at the Temple of Brigantia?” she asked as I mounted Tân.
“I did. I chose one of Arianell’s necklaces, the gold pendant stamped with Brigantia’s fire,” I assured her, patting the leather satchel I’d slung from my shoulder—the same leather satchel that had once carried the torque Andraste had gifted me, which now rested warm around my neck. “It is what Arianell would want.”
“All will be well.” Rhan spoke softly as she placed her palm briefly on my mare’s neck. Then louder, she said, “We will rejoice at your return, Queen Boudicca.”
“Yes!” said Ceri as she bounced on her toes and waved.
“We will take care of Tasceni while you are gone, Mama,” said Enfys in a very grown-up voice.
I looked back at my daughters, the two faithful wolves at their sides, and nearby Briallen, who was never far from them. I did not doubt that they truly would take care of the village while I was away.
Camulodunum was a hard day’s ride south, and that was for rested riders on swift, strong horses. It would take our army two days to reach the city. That worried me. The Romans would know we were coming. With the addition of Tribe Trinovantes our numbers had grown to a little over one hundred thousand, and though we had not all gathered at once, it was likely our enemies were at least somewhat aware that the tribes had been in constant movement since spring. Andraste was wise. We needed to know the strength of the legionnaires in Camulodunum. Had they, too, been quietly amassing their forces?
Addedomaros had lived in Camulodunum when it had been the home of Trinovantes royalty. He had sketched maps of the dyke-and-ditch system that had protected the city when he’d occupied it as well as the main gate, which he labeled Balkerne, through which he recommended we enter—though even he admitted that his city hadn’t been well fortified. Had it been, it would not have fallen to the Catuvellauni and their Roman allies. But in the decade since the Trinovantes had called it home, what defenses had the Romans erected? I knew that Roman legions had been stationed there for many years and a large temple had been raised for Claudius by the cult who worshipped the dead emperor they had proclaimed a god. Had a wall been erected? Had the dykes and ditches been fortified with sharpened stakes to thwart a chariot attack? How well was the Balkerne Gate guarded? Soon we would know.
The fall day was crisp and clear. There was a snap of coolness in the air that turned leaves to bright but fleeting yellow and orange and scarlet, yet there was still enough warmth left in the weakening sun that the breeze did not chill us, only kept our sweat cooling as we rode hard and fast into the south.
We had chosen to pose as traders and had left behind Iceni blue and covered our easily recognized sickled-moon symbols. We did not bring a cart, as that would hinder our ability to move swiftly and stealthily. Instead each of us led a pack-laden horse specially chosen for stamina and fleetness.
I rode Tân and led a gelding who was her younger brother. I’d missed the long rides I used to take on Tân before I’d begun my daily chariot training. Even with the hard pace we set, I found myself relaxing and enjoying the freedom of horseback again.
Our pace shifted from canter to trot to walk and back to canter again, and as I settled into the travel routine, I found myself studying Maldwyn, who rode beside me on Ennis, one of the big gray stallions he loved so dearly. Off horseback he was a pleasant-faced man who smiled easily. His body was lean and lithe. We were of the same height—something I appreciated, especially when we trained together. He didn’t talk a lot, but when he did speak, his observations were insightful as, unlike too many people, his silence was a listening one.
Astride a horse, Maldwyn evolved from pleasant faced to beauty in motion. He moved seamlessly with his horse. He held his reins slack; sometimes he dropped them completely so that they lay knotted on Ennis’s neck. Though he would say that he guided the stallion with his legs and his balance, I had come to understand that it was much more than that. Maldwyn was one with the horse. The trust that was between him and his mount was unspoken and unfathomable.
“What is it, my queen?” We’d slowed to walk the horses, making conversation easier.
“I was just envying your connection with Ennis,” I said. “If I dropped Tân’s reins she would probably weave and wander.”
“I think you would be surprised,” he said. “Try it. It will help you connect with your Tân in a new way.”
“Aren’t we riding too hard for that?” Cadoc asked, though with more curiosity than censure in his voice.
“No, it is a good time to practice. Tân will naturally continue with us and it will give Boudicca the opportunity to gain confidence in her ability to guide the mare with her legs.”
Cadoc grunted gruff agreement. “Won’t try it myself,” he grumbled. “The only implement of war I desire to become one with is my sword.”
“Horses are more than war implements.” Maldwyn and I spoke the words together and then laughed.
Cadoc nodded, making his beard bob up and down on his broad chest. “And that is why you will drive our queen’s chariot into war and not me.”
Maldwyn and I shared an amused look before I dropped Tân’s reins and spent the next several hours communicating with her through my legs and how I adjusted my balance. I was surprised at her elegant response. I would have thought that she would pay more attention to me with the reins in my hands than without, but I was wrong. Tân’s ears flitted back to catch every word I whispered to her and soon she was responding to the shifts in my body as well as to the pressure of my legs against her.
At midday we reached Catuvellauni land and the Roman road, and halted near a stream to water the horses and feed them sweet mash while we ate some of the hearty travel food Wulffaed had so carefully packed for us.
I had just washed my face in the cool stream when Cadoc approached with unusual hesitancy. I used my tunic to dry my face while he shifted from one foot to the other.
“You should just say it,” I told him.
“Aye.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “My queen, you must remove your torque.”
My hand went automatically to touch the familiar weight of gold around my neck—the sign of my rank, my power. When I said nothing, he continued, speaking quickly.
“We know the Romans who attacked Tasceni were from Camulodunum. We know they returned to the city and from there made forays into Trinovantes land, taking captives and looting villages. Forgive me for saying this, but they would have boasted of what they did to Tasceni, to your daughters, and most especially to you.” He paused as he shook his head and his mouth twisted in disgust. “So if the soldiers see a tall, flame-haired barbarian woman wearing the torque that announces to all that she is a queen, they will take notice.”
“Yes, Shield, I agree.” I took off the torque and returned it to the satchel it had rested in before. My neck felt strange without its weight and warmth, but I knew Cadoc was right. It was not wise to be recognized in Camulodunum.
“I told you she would be reasonable,” Maldwyn said as Cadoc and I returned to the rested horses.
“I am always reasonable,” I said as I put my foot in Maldwyn’s entwined hands so that he could boost me astride Tân.
Cadoc snorted and I smiled at him as I guided Tân back to the road.
“Well, almost always,” I said.
Behind me my shield chuckled and we urged our horses onto the road.
* * *
The sun traced its path down the sky and the thick forest began to be interspersed with farmland. We met many more travelers as they headed to and from the city with their trade goods and tax payments. It was easy to tell which was which. The farmers whose carts were filled with payment to the Romans were somber. They kept their eyes on the road and did not greet us. Traders were gregarious. Some even offered us their wares, saying they would save us the trip to the city if we bought from them. If they offered us pelts, we said that we traded for wool and hemp cloth and so on, pleasantly declining all offers and riding on, though we always paused long enough to listen in as the little groups of travelers chatted together. Thus we began to learn how the farmers and traders felt about their foreign governor.
