Boudicca, page 35
“Well, it has been a long time since I’ve lived with him, but I’ve observed two things. First, my father desires you.”
“What? No!”
Her lips quirked at the corners and mischief danced in her dark eyes. “Oh, I am sure of it. Add to his desire for you the fact that no one speaks to him the way you do, and it is little wonder he is obsessed. He loved my mother and was devastated by her death, but she was a timid woman whose soft voice soothed him rather than challenged him. You challenge him, and apparently he enjoys that.”
“Rhan, he reminds me of my father. I do not desire him. I will never desire him.”
Rhan nodded. “I believe everyone sees and understands that—everyone except my father.”
My mind was reeling. I was not an innocent maid, but I definitely had not expected to hear that the gruff Trinovantes chief who was often a thorn in my shoe desired me. “What do you advise?”
She shrugged. “Continue being yourself. If he is wise he will keep his desire to himself.”
I met her gaze and lifted a brow sardonically. “And how often is he wise about the women he desires?”
“Not often, but you are a powerful queen and his closest ally—not a young servant or the pretty daughter of a farmer. He is more old bull than rutting stag, and he is not stupid. He would have to be very sure of your response were he to approach you,” said Rhan.
I chewed my lip. I would be very sure not to do anything Addedomaros could interpret as an invitation or even an inclination to open my bed to him. Even so, I had done nothing to warrant his desire. It seemed that too often men who held power showed poor judgment when it came to their lust.
I sighed and spoke the truth. “I’ve given Addedomaros no reason to desire me—no reason to believe I want any relationship with him other than that of an allied queen and friend. What he fabricates in his mind is not my responsibility.”
“When he is embarrassed he becomes mean,” said Rhan.
“Don’t they all?” said Phaedra.
“Then Addedomaros should not put himself in an embarrassing position. I will not tread carefully around him. It is he who must manage his own emotions.” I dismissed the subject of Addedomaros’s lust with a wave of my hand. Phaedra finished braiding my hair and wrapped a fur-lined cloak around my shoulders. “Now, let us go meet our brave caravans and not worry overmuch about the desires of men.”
* * *
The line of caravans that stretched from the narrow entrance to our valley all the way to the last rise before it was a beautiful sight. Our people hovered about, anxious to greet family and friends. There was much laughter and many shouts of welcome. I was glad that most of the ground that surrounded the lake was gravelly. It helped considerably with the mud. I stood at the entrance to the valley and waved to each wagon, smiling and calling out personal greetings to familiar faces—until I caught sight of my lead farmer, Winifred, and her grim expression. Maldwyn and Cadoc escorted her to me.
Winifred’s knowledge of plants was vast. The Iceni depended upon her knowledge of crops. She set harvesting and planting dates and had a preternatural ability to make crops thrive. Farmers from neighboring tribes sought her out. I’d often come upon her in Tasceni surrounded by a group of men and women as she explained how to cure black spot or blight, and how to smoke insects from their fields.
She had no daughters but five grown sons, who approached with her. Winifred and her sons bowed respectfully to me.
“Queen Boudicca, it is good to be at the end of our journey.”
“Welcome!” I smiled. “We are well pleased that you beat the snow here.”
“My queen, the news I bring is not all good. Cadoc and Maldwyn tell me Comux, the Dobunni chief, is here in the valley,” she said.
“He is.”
“He should hear the news,” said Winifred.
“Maldwyn, find Comux and bring him to my chamber. Cadoc, bring Addedomaros and Leofric as well. All the chiefs should hear the news. Rhan, I’d like you to join us, too. Come with me, Winifred,” I said.
“Yes, my queen,” said Winifred before she turned to her eldest son. “Royston, you and the rest of the boys stay here and help settle the caravans. I’ll join you after.”
As we made our way to the shelter that served as my lodge, I asked, “Did I see Trinovantes colors on some of the more distant caravans?”
“Aye, Queen Boudicca. We met the Trinovantes caravans at the base of the Eryri Mountains.”
“I’m surprised by that. I expected the Trinovantes to beat you here.”
She shook her head. “The reason they did not is news the Dobunni chief will need to hear. Shall I tell you now?”
“No. Wait for Comux and the other chiefs.” I didn’t usually avoid bad news, but I wanted a few moments more to feel only joy.
Wulffaed greeted Winifred warmly and immediately brought mead and fresh bread for her. We didn’t have long to wait. Maldwyn and Comux hurried into the cave. Worry creased the chief’s broad forehead. Addedomaros, Leofric, and Cadoc followed them. “Comux, Dobunni chief; Addedomaros, Trinovantes chief; and Leofric of the Catuvellauni, this is the lead farmer of the Iceni, Winifred. She has news.”
Winifred bowed her head to the three chiefs, cleared her throat, and began. “As the queen already noticed, we arrived with the Trinovantes caravan.”
“Yes!” Addedomaros frowned and nodded. “I haven’t spoken to my lead farmer yet, but I too am puzzled that it took them so long to get here. Did they not use the Roman road as we did for a good part of the way?”
“Chief Addedomaros, your caravans had to leave the road south of Corinium and travel deep within the forest to avoid the Romans.” She paused there and her gaze went to Comux. The Dobunni chief had gone very still at the mention of Corinium, the royal city of the Dobunni. “Chief Comux, the Romans have taken your city. General Paulinus arrived there first with his cavalry. Then the Fourteenth and Twentieth began straggling in. I am sorry.”
Comux abruptly stood. “And my people? Is there word of them?”
“The Romans have enslaved them,” said Winifred.
Comux faced me. “I must take my cavalry and go to them. I must . . .” The chief’s words faded and his gaze went to the floor as he understood the reality of the situation.
I had to speak truth to the grief-stricken chief. “Comux, you cannot. Your cavalry will not be enough to take two legions that have fortified themselves within the walls of your city. It would take our army to rout them, and there is not time to reach Corinium before winter closes the passes. I am sorry. Your people are brave and resourceful. They will survive the winter with the Romans, and in the spring we will force them from our lands and free your people. You will reclaim what is rightfully yours.”
Comux lifted his gaze to meet mine. “I hear you, Queen Boudicca, and I know you speak truth, but . . .” He had to look away and take deep breaths before he could continue. “My daughter and her husband remained in Corinium. She is heavy with her first child, so my wife chose to stay with her. I—” His voice broke and he had to swallow several times before he could continue. “I must go find my sons. They should hear this news from me.” He bowed and hurried from the chamber.
Leofric stood. “With your permission, Queen Boudicca, I will go with Comux to speak with his sons. The Dobunni chief and I have become friends as well as allies—and I believe he needs a friend right now.”
“Go with my blessing,” I said.
“So the Romans will winter in Corinium,” said Cadoc after the Catuvellauni chief had left the chamber. “Bastards.”
“They wish to usurp all that is ours,” said Addedomaros harshly.
I didn’t give voice to what I saw in the eyes of everyone in that room. None of us were surprised. Our army had burned the three major cities Rome had occupied. Their choice was either to launch ships on a winter channel and return to the mainland to lick their wounds, or to occupy another city—one large enough and well enough appointed to shelter two legions. The Dobunni’s winter stores would be completely depleted by the Romans. If someone was going to starve, it would not be the legions. My heart ached for Comux’s wife and daughter and his daughter’s newborn.
Rhan stood, and all eyes went to the Druid. “We must defeat them in the spring. If we do not, we will share the fate of the Dobunni and be made slaves in our own lands.”
I stood. “I will either defeat the Romans or die trying. I will not be a slave.”
Addedomaros stood and shouted, “Aye!”
“Aye!” Cadoc and Maldwyn joined him.
They made me proud, these warriors. I knew each of them was prepared to die beside me. I only hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.
Chapter XXXIV
The snow began two days after the last caravan entered the valley. It fell with a steadiness that proclaimed winter had arrived in the mountains and would not be departing until spring—so we settled in for the long, dark months ahead of us.
I was used to wintering deep in the Thetford forest, where we would get snow, but it was nothing like the steady stream of white that fell from the low, gray sky that engulfed the Eryri Mountains. I was glad we were shielded from the worst of the storms so that, snug in our valley, I was able to appreciate the stark beauty of the snow. It had a muffling effect I’d never before experienced. Mornings when I rose with the sun, I was awed by the quiet and the way dawn’s light touched the newly fallen snow, turning it to faceted jewels.
The army got to work immediately. The blacksmiths and farmers collaborated on how to adapt plow designs to the snow so that not only were we able to keep a slim trail cleared from our valley out to the peat bogs, but we were able to maintain winding paths through our huge camp and create a large training field where our warriors practiced daily. As Cadoc often said, it would not do for our army to emerge fat and lazy from a winter of inaction. I agreed with him, but more because I knew bored warriors would become troublesome rather than because I worried that they would be too portly to face down the Romans.
In a combined effort to combat boredom and fatigue, Addedomaros, Comux, Leofric, and I joined our warriors in their training. It was nostalgic for me. I’d thrived the spring and summer before as I trained for war, and it felt good to continue building muscle and balance and skill. Within a fortnight the huge camp had settled into habits that helped us thrive.
We trained during the middle of the day, taking advantage of the slim hours of light. It mattered not at all whether the sky was clear and brilliant cerulean or slate-colored and pregnant with snow. As the wan sun sank into the mountains that protected our valley, we cared for our precious herds until it was time for dinner and the telling of tales that followed—a tradition Rhan had started when she’d asked me to share with the large group I’d chosen to eat with the story of Andraste riding beside me after the battle of Camulodunum. I’d only been partway into the tale when I noticed the crowd around the campfire had doubled. Bright eyes glistened in the firelight as they watched me recount how Andraste had ridden Brigantia’s white stag, escorting me from the burning city to our camp. They’d cheered as I finished the telling, and Rhan had whispered, “Stories are precious to your people. They will collect them and hold them close during this long winter, and in the spring will repeat them proudly as we emerge and face the Romans once again.”
After that night it became tradition for the chiefs and lead warriors to move from hearthfire to hearthfire, sharing tales and listening to others tell them as we encouraged our people to remember why we had become an army—so that Rome could not dilute our beliefs, our pride, our very spirits.
The long winter nights allowed time for love. I watched my people with knowing smiles as passion warmed their beds. Maldwyn proved to be an unexpected joy. I’d wondered about what might happen between us as the valley closed and the cold months stretched before us. I would never marry again. Not because I wasn’t interested in loving, but rather because I had no interest in dividing my rule. I had been queen for almost one full year. I’d gained my people’s trust and loyalty. I was more than simply comfortable being queen of the Iceni; I ruled wisely. I’d established a council that was rich with experience and wisdom. My people knew that even though I depended upon the advice of that council, ultimately the decisions made for them were mine. If I married, it would instantly bring into question who was ruling the Iceni.
I would listen to my council. I would consult Andraste. But I would not bow my will to any man’s.
Though Maldwyn and I did not speak of it, by his actions it was clear he understood. Above all else, I was his queen. He deferred to me, not with subservience but with respect. He was always eager to come to my bed, or welcome me to his, though he never instigated our nights together. We shared long, intimate looks and smiles, and were of one mind as we trained together in our chariot, but Maldwyn never attempted to use our intimacy to advance his own desires. If the herd needed something, he brought that need to me during our council meetings. The only words we whispered to one another in the dark of night were those of passion. I felt safe with him.
I did not hide the fact that he and I were lovers. The Iceni and the other tribes had no foolish taboos about desire. We loved freely, easily, and openly. When Maldwyn and I walked to the training grounds together, I often saw my people smile knowingly at us. Passion was nothing more than another aspect of our lives. Chiefs and queens who did not display their passions were often looked upon as lacking. While I have never been one to flaunt my desires publicly, there was less privacy in our valley than in Tasceni, and my people were well aware that their queen did not lack passion.
As the nights lengthened and the days became short and frigid, I thought of my mother often, especially when I watched Wulffaed in the candlelight guiding my daughters as they practiced their needlework. The Mother of Twenty and her brood of daughters and granddaughters filled my makeshift lodge with the happy sounds of women’s laughter, evoking memories of other long winters when my mother reigned over the matriarchs of our tribe. Our lodge had always been a meeting place for women to talk and share ideas, trade goods and support each other. For the first time since Arianell’s death, I felt feminine comradeship and support again and realized how desperately I’d missed it.
“Wulffaed!” I called as I sat straighter and pulled my thoughts from the past.
“My queen?”
“I wish to reclaim one of my mother’s favorite traditions and would like your help in doing so.” My daughters turned their bright, eager gazes to me, and I smiled.
“Of course, Queen Boudicca. How may I help?”
I noticed Rhan and Briallen had also paused in what they were doing to watch me. “Spread word that the matriarchs of each tribe will gather there”—I jerked my chin toward the dark body of water outside the cave—“at the bank of the lake tomorrow before I go to train with the warriors.”
“As you ask, so will I do,” said Wulffaed.
* * *
The next day was clear and cold. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the number of elders who waited at the bank of the lake. They stretched like a colorful frame around the rocky shore, elder matriarchs who proudly wore the colors of their tribes and who laughed and spoke easily to one another. They went silent when I appeared, curious faces upturned as I climbed atop a boulder so that I could be more easily heard.
“I have been thinking of my mother recently.” I paused as gray heads nodded in agreement and understanding. “The day she was murdered by the Romans, I thought I would never feel content and safe in my own lodge again. I could not imagine a future without her wise presence.” Again, the women nodded. “But surrounded by my tribe, and now the elders of our allies, I have found contentment, even joy, again.”
“Aye.” The word rippled through the women.
“We understand the value of our matriarchs—our elders. It is just one of the many beliefs that separate us from the Romans and the stunted way they live. A people cannot thrive if they do not esteem those who are life bringers.”
“Aye!” Eyes flashed as the matrons responded.
“My mother had a weekly tradition I would like to continue. Once every seven days the women of Tasceni would gather—some in my lodge and some in the homes of the other matriarchs of our tribe—and we would wash our hair and then spend the afternoon before our hearthfires, drying and then dressing each other’s hair as we shared wisdom and laughter, food and drink. Did any of you have this tradition in your villages?”
“We did!” Wulffaed spoke up immediately.
“Aye, as did the Dobunni!” called a woman whose long silver hair waved around her waist.
The voices of women echoed across the lake, raised in excitement. Their eyes glistened with remembrance and hope. It was the hope that I held close to me. It was the hope we all needed to hold close.
“Tomorrow, instead of training, the women of the army will unite. Elders, speak with the maidens and mothers of your villages. Have them prepare.” I smiled. “And by ‘prepare’ I mean open the special winter mead.”
“Aye, that we can do!” Wulffaed called, followed by women’s laughter.
“Every seventh day shall be Arianell’s Day, in honor of my mother and all of the mothers we miss,” I said.
The first Arianell’s Day was filled with joy that was so familiar I could easily imagine my mother close by, approving as Dafina grumbled about needing a bigger space for so many women. We began at the bank of Arglwyddes y Llyn, where Wulffaed had supervised the building of many fires, over which cauldrons of water scented by herbs warmed. The women of the army flocked to the lake, bringing mugs of mead, which they drank deeply of as they waited in turn to wash their hair in the cold lake, and then to rinse it in steaming herb-scented water. Women’s voices rang across the lake, as sweet as the scent of herbs. Then, heads wrapped in drying cloths, the women made their way to the caves and caravans and tents that housed their elder matriarchs.
