Boudicca, page 29
“I’ll send help for you and libations to add to the pyre,” I said.
“Mama,” Enfys said, moving her horse closer. “When we return Ceri and I will gather the libations and bring them to the pyre.”
“Then that is how it shall be,” I said. My girls continued to fill me with pride, not just as their mother, but as their queen. “Adara, can the rest of the wounded be moved?”
“Do you want the truth or what a warrior queen would like to hear?” Adara’s words would have been disrespectful had her gaze not been so steady, so filled with grief and weariness.
“I will always want the truth,” I said.
“Four days’ rest and most will be able to be moved. Those who are the most badly wounded either will die before then or will be strong enough to survive if they ride in our caravans,” she said.
“Then we rest four more days.” I hoped I wasn’t making the mistake of remaining in the forest too long before marching on Londinium. I believed we had time. My last report of Paulinus and his legions placed them closing on Ynys Môn. It was possible that a swift rider with fresh mounts could reach the isle from Camulodunum in five days. To march two legions the return trip would take at least twice the time, and we needed that time. We were counting on that time, as I would not desert our wounded.
“Excuse me, my queen,” a woman called from the entrance of the tent. “Adara, a warrior calls for you.”
“Go with my gratitude,” I told the old healer.
She nodded and disappeared inside the death tent. I remounted and we picked up the pace, cantering quickly past the burning city, which glowed orange even in daylight.
While it had taken longer to get from our camp to the tree line than I’d remembered, it was a much shorter distance to the site of the centuria’s end.
No one had tended to the Roman dead. I realized that was one reason why Rhan had needed to guide their shades to their eternal rest, but I couldn’t bring myself to order that their bodies be gathered and burned. Not after what they had done to my mother, my daughters, and our elders. They deserved to rot. As we approached I saw that they wouldn’t be allowed to rot. The road was crowded with huge moving shapes. We neared and the shapes took form as feasting vultures. The birds were bold. They barely moved when we halted before the stream of death. The scent was almost as terrible as the sight of the Romans. Clotted blood and entrails darkened the stones. The carrion birds had added to the damage, starting with guts and eyes and open wounds. I swallowed my gorge and turned my gaze to my daughters. I saw them share a look. Enfys nodded and together they coaxed their reluctant mounts to the very edge of the massacre. Their wolves slunk with them, growling low in their throats. Briallen followed as my guard spread out around us.
When the girls halted their horses, they were standing among the first of the bodies. They took their time, studying the rotting flesh that had been men.
Then Enfys spoke, and her young voice was strong and steady and it caused the vultures to squawk and flap their black wings restlessly.
“You did not break us!” Enfys shouted.
Ceri added, “You could not break us! And now you are dead!”
“And we are not!” Enfys finished. Then she spat down into the bodies. Ceri did the same.
I was surprised to see Briallen spit, too. My daughters turned their horses and trotted to me.
“They are dead. Now we know it,” said Enfys.
“We won’t have any more nightmares,” said Ceri.
As one, we cantered away, leaving the dead as a feast for the birds that rid our lands of rot.
When we neared where the pyre was being built, I commanded my guard to assist the warriors in preparation. Briallen returned to our forest camp with the girls, where she would help them load the libations for the burning. I broke from the group and went in search of Rhan. It wasn’t difficult to find her. She was with our dead.
The open-sided tent was filled with bodies. They spread out around the tent as well, all covered with shrouds made from cloaks. She saw me as I dismounted, wiped her hands on a cloth, and came to me.
I expected Rhan to look like Adara, weary and worn, but she almost glowed. Her skin was so pale I could see the delicate blue of the veins in her neck and chest. Her dark eyes were huge against the white of her face. Her hair was a wild mass of moonlight caught in a thick braid that went down her back and was decorated with beads and bells, so that she made music when she moved.
We said nothing. I opened my arms and Rhan stepped into my embrace. We clung to each other. She smelled of oils perfumed with rosemary and lavender, though they didn’t quite hide the putrid scent of death. When we finally parted I asked, “How are you?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead her gaze went distant as she looked past me to the burning city. When she finally spoke, her voice was rough, as if she hadn’t used it in a very long time.
“I am becoming intimate with death.”
Her words sent chills along my skin. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
“It is neither. It is a useful thing for a people at war,” she said. “The girls witnessed the dead centuria?”
“They did. They are so brave.”
Rhan nodded. “How could they not be? Their mother is Queen Boudicca.” Her sharp gaze studied me. “Your spirit is better today.”
“It is.”
“Maldwyn helped with that?” she asked, though I saw in her eyes that she already knew the answer.
“He did,” I said.
“I am glad.”
“I saw Andraste last night after the battle. As I returned to camp she rode with me for a little way. Rhan, I think she was beside me during the fighting,” I said.
“I have no doubt of it. And she will be with you in the next battle and the next—one right after another.”
My heartbeat thudded in my chest. “The goddess sent you sign?”
“She did. At dawn, when I finally turned from the Roman shades as I was making my way across the field to the healer’s tents, I passed this place.” She gestured to the growing pyre not far from us. “Three hares leaped from the grasses before me. They ran there.” Rhan pointed into the southwest. “In a line—one following the other.”
“Camulodunum, Londinium, and Verulamium.” I repeated the names of the three Roman cities I intended to destroy.
“Exactly. Andraste’s sign says she will be with you.”
I let out a long, relieved breath. I’d believed I was doing the goddess’s will, but her sign meant that I could do more than believe; I could know. And I would be certain my war council knew as well.
“There is something else,” Rhan said.
There was a strange shift to her voice. It hitched over the words and softened. “What has happened?”
“Ynys Môn is no more.”
A wave of shock and grief crested over me, and I staggered. Rhan grasped my elbow, holding me steady. “No more? How can that be? How could our gods allow it?”
Rhan shook her head slowly. “I do not understand it either. Even Andraste has remained silent. Boudicca, the sacred oaks are dead—burned and dead. It was as Derwyn said. Last night as I kept vigil with the shades, I heard the oaks keening.” Rhan shivered. “It was the most terrible sound I have ever heard.”
“Derwyn! Do you know if he is alive?”
Rhan’s hand shook as she smoothed back her sweaty hair. “Derwyn has crossed over to Annwn. Boudicca, every Druid who was on the isle is dead.”
My lips felt numb and I had to force words past them. “But what do we do now?”
“We survive. We continue. We honor our goddesses and gods as always and trust that they, too, will not die.”
Fear speared me, making me lightheaded. “Can they die?”
Her gaze went distant again as she stared past me to the city. “When they are no longer cherished, no longer worshipped, when their names are no longer spoken and libations are no longer poured and sacrifices no longer made, any god can die.”
I drew a deep breath. “Then Andraste will live forever as the Iceni will never forget her.”
Rhan’s gaze snapped back to mine and her voice sharpened. “Then you must survive to be certain of that.”
“I intend on it.” My words were confident, though my spirit quaked.
Chapter XXIX
“By the gods, yes!” Addedomaros’s fist pounded on the trestle table Wulffaed had materialized outside my tent. “Londinium and then Verulamium. Finally, the Trinovantes return to take back all that was ours.”
“But is it wise to wait four more days before we march on Londinium?” Adminius asked from his seat beside his father.
“Paulinus and the Twentieth and Fourteenth legions are at Ynys Môn,” I said. “They have just finished a battle there. Even if today they departed the isle and marched to us, we would be days gone when they arrived here, and though Londinium is larger than Camulodunum, it is because of the number of merchants rather than soldiers billeted there.”
Maldwyn’s sharp gaze caught mine. “There has been a battle at Ynys Môn?”
I drank from the mug of mead Wulffaed had placed before me, swallowing down the gravel that filled my throat at the thought of the death of the Druids. “The isle is no more.”
Cadoc’s broad shoulders jerked in shock. “Derwyn?”
I shook my head.
“Our high Druid is no more?” Addedomaros’s face had gone pale.
I could have lied. Perhaps I should have, but I had no stomach for it. If I could bear it, then so too could these men. I met the chief’s gaze and spoke truth. “The only Druids I know for sure are alive are the two we have with us. Your daughter, the Iceni seer, and Adara, our healer. All who were on the isle perished, including the sacred oaks.”
For several heartbeats no one spoke. Wulffaed and her daughters and granddaughters froze. My war council, Cadoc, Maldwyn, Abertha—who had been brought on a litter—Addedomaros, Mailcun, and Adminius, was silent.
Finally Adminius whispered, “Have the gods deserted us?”
“No!” My voice cut through their despair. “How can you even think such a thing after the victory we were given at Camulodunum? Last night as I returned to camp, Andraste rode at my side on the white stag of Brigantia. Addedomaros, did you not feel the presence of Epona with your cavalry?”
Addedomaros cleared his throat. He still looked stunned, but he nodded. “Aye, as always I felt the goddess near.”
“Our goddesses will remain near as long as we honor them,” I said. “I know the truth of this deep in my spirit. I have spoken with Andraste. The goddess will not desert the Iceni. To prove her fidelity she gave sign to Rhan at dawn. Three hares appeared, running in a row toward Londinium. Three—one each for Camulodunum, Londinium, and Verulamium. Andraste promises those cities to us. She has made that clear.”
“Then in five days we burn Londinium,” said Cadoc.
“And because our army will be well rested, immediately following the burning of Londinium we march directly to Verulamium and level that Roman municipium,” I added.
“I still think we should march sooner. Perhaps in three days,” insisted Adminius.
I met and held his gaze. “Then it is a good thing that I am in charge of this army and you are not.”
His face darkened and he looked as if he would say more, but Mailcun’s hand went to his shoulder, gripping it so tightly his knuckles whitened. Addedomaros stood and nodded to me.
“It will be as you say, Queen Boudicca. In five days our cavalry and Epona will enter Londinium with you and Andraste,” he said. “Come, Adminius. We have horses to tend.”
Adminius stood and stalked away without looking at me. Addedomaros nodded briefly and followed. Only Mailcun bowed to me with the proper respect.
* * *
At dusk the pyre was ready. It was an enormous mound of logs and brush and our dead. Like the pyre at Tasceni, it was laid out in a circular formation. Choice pieces of meat had been placed within the pyre, as well as mead, ale, honey, and milk. The bodies had been liberally anointed with oil. Rhan sent for me when all was ready, and as the sun set behind us and the burning city glowed before us, Cadoc lit my arrow as Mailcun lit Addedomaros’s, and together we let loose the burning brands. They lifted into the twilight sky, arched, and returned to earth, setting the pyre ablaze.
I was surprised that Adminius hadn’t joined his father at the lighting of the pyre. There was no doubt that he believed Tribe Trinovantes would be his at the death of Addedomaros. He should have been at his father’s side. Rhan had been correct. Adminius was the same spoiled favorite child he had been when I fostered with them, only now he wore a man’s skin. I glanced at my daughters, who stood not far from me, watching the pyre burn with their wolves beside them. I did not know which of the two would follow me as queen of the Iceni when I joined Andraste in Annwn, but I was grateful that both were maturing into honorable young women who cared deeply for their tribe.
That night the army was subdued. I moved from campfire to campfire, speaking with the warriors, telling them that they were to rest for four more days before we would march on Londinium. I promised them that they could loot the warehouses that lined the Thames before firing the wooden buildings, and that any merchandise they could carry from the city would be theirs. My words were met with pleasure. There had been almost no looting at Camulodunum. I’d been eager to defeat the Romans billeted there and fulfill the curse. But Londinium was different. In the southernmost point of traitorous Catuvellauni land, it had been swallowed whole by Rome decades before and was a major trading center. I’d traveled there several times every year since I married Prasutagus and knew it well. It was a city filled with merchants with almost no defenses, especially once the wooden bridge over the Thames was breached. Unlike Camulodunum, the city had few Roman buildings, which meant the wooden roundhouses and warehouses would burn hot and fast—and my army was welcome to anything they could pillage before it was no more.
I was weary and returned to my tent, where I soaked in a hot bath as Phaedra combed out my hair. While I bathed, Briallen reported that Enfys and Ceri had fallen asleep almost immediately upon returning from the pyre, and that before they’d slept they had told the warrior that they would be fine without her now.
“The bairns are curled in a pile with those wolves and I cannot tell which one of them snores the loudest,” she said with a wistful smile.
I understood the wistfulness of her smile. “They’re growing up.”
“Aye, well, it was bound to happen.”
“You’ve cared for them well,” I said. “And you’ll continue to. Someday you will be Queen’s Guard to one of them.”
Briallen’s brows lifted. “Och, well, do not make that day come too soon, my queen.”
I grinned at her. “I won’t.”
Briallen bowed and left as Maldwyn entered. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he saw that I was naked in my tub, but he bowed formally to me and said, “Queen Boudicca, I came to report that the herd is recovering quickly, though I am glad you’re giving them time to rest. It will serve us well when we drive them to Londinium and Verulamium.”
“How are Ennis and Finley? Was any of that blood that covered them theirs?”
“It was, but the wounds were only minor. Because of the days you have granted us they will be ready when next you need them.” He paused and his smile turned intimate. “Is there anything else you need tonight, my queen?”
I looked into those kind eyes and remembered the passion that had ignited between us the night before. I felt a flutter of desire and opened my mouth to say yes, there was something I needed from him, but the tent flap moved and Rhan stumbled in. She’d lost the glow that had carried her through the night before and this day. Now she just looked wan and weary. Dark circles bruised the delicate skin under her eyes. Her hair was a matted mess and I could smell the scent of death she carried with her, even over the sweet herbs that perfumed my bath.
“Oh, forgive me, Queen Boudicca. I did not mean to interrupt,” she said quickly. “I shall ask Wulffaed to show me to the girls’ tent. Tomorrow I will have my own erected and—”
“Nonsense,” I interrupted as I stood and motioned for Phaedra to wrap me in a blanket. “You’ll stay here.” My eyes went to Maldwyn. “Thank you for your report, Maldwyn. Tonight I need nothing more from you.”
“Then I wish you a good night, my queen.” He bowed to me. “Good night, Rhan,” he said, and nodded to her pleasantly before he slipped out of the tent.
“Phaedra, have Wulffaed’s daughters empty the tub and then refill it for Rhan.” I glanced up at Rhan. “Have you eaten?”
“Today? I—I do not think so,” she said.
“I shall bring food,” said Phaedra.
“And more honey mead,” I added.
Phaedra hurried from the tent. I sat at the table beside my bed and used one end of the blanket to dry my hair.
“I do not want to be a bother,” said Rhan as a line of women began emptying and then refilling my tub with steaming water.
“Was I a bother when you cared for me when I could barely hold my arm up during those long first months of training?” I asked.
Her lips quirked into a ghost of her impish smile. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”
“No. Now take off those clothes. You smell like a grave.”
Phaedra gathered Rhan’s filthy clothes as one of Wulffaed’s daughters brought a tray of food and mead. I dismissed Phaedra when Rhan settled into the tub with a long, exhausted sigh. I pulled my nightdress on over my head and found the bowl of herbs Phaedra always sprinkled into my tub. Liberally I tossed several handfuls in as Rhan grinned up at me.
“Do I smell that bad?”
“Worse,” I said. “Dunk your head down and get your hair wet. I’m going to wash it for you. I can’t have grave smell in my bed.”
