Boudicca, page 34
I drove Ennis and Finley to the head of our army. Maldwyn rode on one side of me. Cadoc and Abertha were in their familiar positions on my other side, only this time I was the only one of us driving a chariot. Behind us my guard stretched across the road, looking fierce. And after them came my people in what seemed an unending sea of tribal colors.
As we started forward, the sleet shifted to snow. Large flakes caught on our clothes as they fell lazily from a sky so low and gray it seemed if I stretched my arms up high enough I could touch it.
We passed the first farm that had not been burned to the ground, and I saw a group of people peering at us from behind a hedgerow. Rhan and I wore our hair long and unbound. The winter wind lifted it so that my thick, flame-colored mane tangled with Rhan’s smooth moonlight mass—fire and ice.
With graceful hands and rounded arms, Rhan traced patterns in the air before her, and as her dark gaze slid to look at the curious faces of the farmers, she pressed a finger against her lips and said one word that the wind picked up and carried around us.
“Silence!”
All that day I drove the chariot and watched my friend weave symbols of power in the air around us and invoke the protection of the gods. Every farm we passed, every small settlement, every merchant we overtook who had fled from Verulamium or Londinium, stopped and stared at Rhan, entranced by the Druid. Britons began coming out to watch us pass. I heard their whispers. “She is the last of the Druids . . . Blessed by the gods . . . High Druid . . . seer of the Iceni . . .” On and on we marched, surrounded by the magick Rhan wove, ancient and powerful. It and the respect of our people held us in a web of safety.
As the days passed and the army trudged through snow and ice, people were drawn to us. We entered Dobunni territory. I was not surprised when more warriors from Comux’s tribe joined us, but what did surprise me was when Cadoc began announcing daily that other tribes had found us. The Atrebates sent several hundred foot soldiers. The Silures joined us with a thousand cavalry and caravans filled with their families and winter stores to sustain them. More Catuvellauni followed Leofric, pledging loyalty to him and allegiance to me.
By the time we crossed into the territory of Tribe Ordovices, our army had swelled to almost two hundred thousand. We were cold and tired, but morale was high. Drummers had taken to beating out the rhythm of Rhan’s hand movements, and the Iceni seer often added her voice to the invocation, playing with the rhythmic drumbeats. My guard sang with her, mimicking her sounds and swaying in time to the sacred dance.
The power of Rhan’s magick was awe inspiring. Though we were cold and wet and weary, we moved with the gods. Ravens flew over us. Stags often crossed our path. Boars grunted and snorted and followed us. And there were hares everywhere! Though we had to wade through snow and ice, the horses did not tire—the wagons did not become mired. Each night we camped, gathering around bonfires sharing drink and food and song. The hearts of the people were so warm and strong that the cold did not bite. Many times during those five long days and nights, I felt as if we were not traveling through the mortal world of Arbred but had instead crossed into Annwn. Nwyfre, the life force that fills us all, flowed freely from Rhan, seer of the Iceni and high Druid. It washed over our people, binding us together as we moved with one sacred purpose. We would winter safely. We would survive. And in the spring we would be reborn with the land and force the Romans forever from Britain.
* * *
“There.” Comux pointed at a narrow pass where two jagged, rocky mountains almost met. It was just before dusk and we’d spent the entire day on a muddy path too rough to be called a proper road. We’d halted after it seemed to run into the mountains before us. As I followed Comux’s finger and peered through the pass, I could just glimpse the wan winter daylight reflecting off a lake that appeared as gray as the sky above us. “That is the pass, and within is Arglwyddes y Llyn and our sanctuary for the winter.”
“Looks very narrow,” said Cadoc.
“That is one of its charms.” Comux grinned. “It is only just wide enough to allow one wagon at a time to enter and will close with snow and ice soon.” He shrugged. “Though even if the pass remains open for weeks, it is easily defended.”
“It is perfect,” I said. “Let’s get inside and begin setting up corrals for the horses and sectioning off areas for shelters.”
“Queen Boudicca, I do believe that the mountain there, near the far end of the lake”—Comux directed my gaze—“has cavelike openings around the base of much of it. They should be able to be made into shelters.”
“A real shelter would be a braw thing to have this winter,” said Briallen from her lead position in front of my guard.
“It does sound lovely,” I said a little wistfully. Yes, morale was excellent. Yes, the nights had been filled with comradeship and the days had been productive. The army had surpassed even Cadoc’s estimates of how quickly so many people and horses and caravans could be moved north. Still, I longed for shelter and the warmth and safety it brought.
“Well then, let us enter this valley and create a winter sanctuary for our queen!” said Maldwyn as everyone within hearing cheered.
* * *
The days that followed were satisfying. Though the size of our army was intimidating, especially to me, as I was the person ultimately responsible for feeding, housing, and caring for them all winter, I soon saw the benefits in having two hundred thousand Britons under my charge. My people were canny and talented. Even before our seemingly endless stream of wagons rumbled slowly one by one through the pass, builders came forward. They discussed the best ways to create winter-worthy shelters. I put the capable shields Cadoc and Mailcun in charge of supervising the cutting down of trees and the building of shelters.
Comux’s young shield, Seward, returned with the blessing of Caratacus and several packhorses loaded down with cakes and mounds of exquisite furs the chief sent as gifts to me. The shield also reported that the Roman legions had broken camp several days before he’d arrived and that they had last been seen heading southeast, out of Ordovices territory.
As winter drew closer and closer, we waited for the Iceni and Trinovantes supply wagons while we foraged outside the sparse valley and cut trees for shelters. Our farmers took wagons and scouted peat bogs, harvesting the precious fuel daily.
The valley was large, easily big enough for a city, which was good because our numbers could have filled Londinium twice over. Comux had been right. The mountain that backed the far side of the lake was riddled with indentations in its rocky face. Abertha quickly dubbed it Graybeard as its peaks were always covered with mist that clung to it, looking much like an old man’s beard.
It was in the largest of the cavelike indentations that my winter lodge was built. The opening and single chamber within were easily roomy enough to hold council meetings, and that was where Wulffaed and her daughters worked their magick. I hadn’t realized that they’d rolled up the tapestries from the royal lodge at Tasceni and packed them into their group of wagons, and I’m glad I hadn’t known as I would have told them to leave such things behind. A warrior queen doesn’t need luxuries.
I’d have been wrong. Once the tapestries were hung over the rock walls and my bedchamber was sectioned off by more tapestries and thick blankets, they built a large fire pit cunningly placed beneath several honeycomb-like openings in the rocky roof. The openings provided enough of an escape for the smoke that a fire could blaze constant and hot without choking us with smoke. The builders created crude trestle tables made of wooden logs topped by sheets of the unusual crimson and violet slate that proliferated in the valley. I was as pleased as I was surprised by the level of comfort the cave afforded me—and I was grateful for the luxury of beauty and warmth within it.
Flanking the central cavelike opening were several smaller indentations that also reminded me of honeycombs, though they were much more sizable than the pocked holes over the fire pit. My girls snuggled into one of them and Rhan chose a cave beside them. On the other side of my shelter, Wulffaed commandeered a nearby opening, in front of which the caravans filled with her daughters and granddaughters circled, creating a warm, homey area that was always alive with the sounds of women’s laughter and scents of baking bread.
Addedomaros, his son, and his household servants claimed the largest of the other spaces. Comux and his shield took another. And Leofric claimed another as his own. I offered the remaining caves to my lead warriors. Cadoc accepted, grumbling about his old bones needing thick walls to keep out the winter, but Abertha and Maldwyn declined. Abertha chose to lodge with her longtime lover, Dreda, in the sprawling shelter my Queen’s Guard erected. I wondered if Maldwyn would choose one of the caves so he could be near me, but his sense of duty to our herd had him sheltering in the circle of caravans that carried the tack and feed. Instead of feeling slighted, I was glad of his dedication to our horses. Briallen chose one of the little caves as her own. I’d expected her to lodge with the rest of my guard, but she’d become accustomed to being close to the girls and to me, and I was glad to have her near.
The caravans were prepared for a long winter. They were covered wagons, but the tent tarps that enclosed them would not be warm enough for the hard freezes that were to come, so the tribesmen and -women worked diligently on cutting and slicing logs into flat boards that were attached to the wagons and then adding mud daub to form walls where only tarp had been. The caravans were positioned around large fire pits, where they butted up to one another so that they looked like oddly skinny roundhouses that were open in the center. Tents blossomed against the wagons, using their wooden backs and the blankets and tapestries they’d plundered from Londinium and Verulamium to provide warmth and shelter.
Lean-tos were erected along the base of the mountains, under which scores of fire pits blossomed with light and warmth. Large holding pens were built around the lean-tos so that our precious horses were protected from the worst of the cold.
We’d traveled with sizable herds of goats and cattle, as well as a drove of fat Iceni pigs. Their pens were adjacent to the horses, also tucked against the broad mountainsides—and chickens were everywhere, which made egg gathering a daily exercise in foraging.
Arglwyddes y Llyn proved to be a marvel. Filled with carp and brown trout, the lake was too deep to freeze. From the fireside in my cave lodge, I could gaze across the lake, watching the hovering mist move lazily and our fishers casting nets and setting lines. The water was clear and cold and often so still that it seemed the reflection of the surrounding mountains had actually taken shape within its surface and was another realm.
The weather provided a reprieve shortly after we arrived, and for five straight days there was no more snow. Sunlight filled the valley, deceptively making the days appear warm, but its distant light was too wan to take the bite from the air. We were all very aware that when it began snowing again it would not end until spring, and lookouts anxiously kept watch for our supply wagons.
Chapter XXXIII
“There is snow on the horizon!” Addedomaros said as he entered my cave on the tenth morning after we’d come to the valley.
I looked up from Sunne, whose ears I had been caressing. My daughters took their meals with me, and their wolves were their constant shadows. The big creatures intrigued me. I liked spending time observing their intelligence and loyalty. “May the joy of the day be with you, Addedomaros,” I said, gesturing for him to join me at the long table.
He cleared his throat and muttered, “And may the blessings of the earth be on you.”
“Have you broken your fast?” I asked as Rhan joined me at the table.
“Yes, earlier. Though I would not refuse a mug of the Mother of Twenty’s mulled mead.”
“Wulffaed?” I called.
The woman appeared as she always did—already prepared. She placed mugs before the three of us.
Addedomaros flashed a charming smile at Wulffaed as he lifted the mug to toast her. “Ah, Wulffaed, what can I do to lure you away from Queen Boudicca?”
Wulffaed snorted and fluttered her fingers at him in a begone with you gesture, though she also smiled and tossed back her silver hair. Addedomaros definitely had a charm about him. He was an imposing figure who enjoyed the company of women. I frequently overheard Wulffaed’s daughters gossiping about the endless stream of lovers going to and from the Trinovantes chief’s bed. Addedomaros reminded me too much of my father for me to view him in a sexual way, but there was no denying his charisma or power.
“So, what do we do?” Addedomaros asked as Cadoc and Abertha entered the cave. Since the spring, my lead warriors had made a habit of breaking their fasts with me—it was a habit I enjoyed.
I was watching for Maldwyn when Abertha sat beside Cadoc and said, “What do we do about what?”
Addedomaros sighed heavily. “About the snow on the horizon and the fact that our supply wagons have not yet arrived, of course.”
“What is it you would like to do?” I asked as Wulffaed reappeared with a pitcher of mead and a platter of grilled fish and freshly baked bread.
“Something! The snow is coming. What will we do if the pass closes before the supplies arrive and we’re trapped here for the winter?”
“We will tighten our rationing. We have stock we can slaughter, and the lake is filled with fish. I’ve already spoken with Maldwyn and he has begun to supplement the herd’s feed with heather and tree moss.” I shrugged, not sure why Addedomaros was so worried when the answer to his question was obvious. “We won’t be fat when we emerge in the spring, but we’ll be well rested and alive.”
Addedomaros took a long drink of mead and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Being trapped in this valley all winter feels like a prison.”
“Being trapped in this valley means safety and survival.” I stared down my nose at him. “But, mighty Trinovantes chief, you are welcome to leave this prison and spend the winter fleeing from the Romans as you freeze and starve.”
His eyes narrowed at me, and then he snorted and his laughter boomed. “I like your directness, Queen Boudicca.”
“That is fortunate, as I do not know any other way to be,” I said, which made him laugh some more.
“My queen!” Maldwyn rushed into the cave. “Wagons have been spotted!”
Even though I’d spoken with complete confidence to Addedomaros, I was flooded with relief. “That is excellent news, Maldwyn. I—”
Addedomaros stood, gulped the rest of his mead, and slammed the empty mug down on the stone-topped table. “Now, that is news to brighten a miserable winter’s day! Let us go and greet them!” He nodded a quick bow to me and then strode from the cave, bellowing for Mailcun.
“Mama, he makes a lot of noise,” said Ceri.
“Aye, like the rooster who pecks around outside my cave and wakes me at dawn with his nonsense,” muttered Cadoc.
Abertha and Maldwyn chuckled as Rhan tried to cover her laughter. I touched Ceri’s cheek. “Yes, he does. But let’s not say that in front of him.”
“Oh, I know that, Mama. But I can say it in front of us.”
“Always, my little dove.” I grinned at her. Then I turned my attention to my warriors. “Go ahead and greet the wagons. I will join you after I look more presentable. Our people just traveled the width of our country to reach us and they shouldn’t be greeted by a bedraggled queen.”
My lead warriors grabbed hunks of bread and wrapped the fish in them and then hurried from the cave, eager to get the wagons settled and our precious supplies stored properly.
I called for Phaedra to attend me and then motioned for Rhan to follow us into my bedchamber. While Phaedra undid my sleep-tousled braid and began working her way through my hair, I asked Rhan a question that had been weighting on my mind.
“Rhan, I am trying to understand your father, because it is to our benefit if the Trinovantes chief and I are of one mind, but it is difficult,” I said. “Do you have any advice on how to handle him?”
Rhan, sounding very much like her father, barked a laugh. “‘Difficult’ is an understatement. Do you not remember how he blustered and bellowed when we were girls?”
“I do, but we were rarely the recipients of his bellows and blusters.”
Rhan nodded. “Yes, they were usually reserved for his warriors and my half brothers. Though had he bellowed at Adminius occasionally, he might have grown into a more bearable man.”
“I’m just grateful your brother dislikes me enough to stay well away.”
“It is a blessing,” Phaedra muttered under her breath.
I turned to look at her. “Has Adminius bothered you?”
“No, but only because I belong to you.” Phaedra glanced at Rhan. “Forgive me for speaking so about your brother, but he is not liked.”
“There is no forgiveness required, Phaedra. Adminius has been tiresome and demanding his entire spoiled, cossetted life.”
“What has he done?” I asked Phaedra.
“He bullies the servants, and unhappy is the woman who catches his eye,” said Phaedra.
I turned around in my seat so that I could face Phaedra. “If he is abusing women, I want to know about it immediately.”
Phaedra sighed. “He stops short of physically forcing women to his bed, though often they do not feel as if they have any choice. He is the son of the Trinovantes chief.”
My face heated with anger. “I do not care whose son he is. Phaedra, spread the word. Queen Boudicca will protect anyone Adminius targets. All they need do is get word to me. If Addedomaros does not rein in that petulant man-child, I most certainly will.”
“As you ask, so will I do,” Phaedra said with a smile.
I turned around so she could finish dressing my hair and asked Rhan, “Why does your father bicker and bait me, and then seem pleased when I silence him?”
