Boudicca, page 41
Adara chuckled.
Rhan and I turned our twin frowns on her. “Is my illness amusing?” I snapped at the healer. I had felt increasingly unwell as the day progressed and had little patience for foolishness.
“Of course not, my queen,” said Adara with a smile. “Tell me, when did you last have your moon days?”
Rhan gasped, and I suddenly felt numb—and foolish. I’d borne two children, and though it had been many years, I certainly should have remembered what it had felt like to be with child. Hastily, I counted back. I’d not bled for well over one month.
I had to swallow several times before I could speak. “I’m with child.”
“Aye, that is my guess,” Adara said, nodding. “Though if you allow it I will examine you to be sure.”
Adara’s examination supported what I had already realized. When the Druid healer left and Rhan and I were alone, my lover came to me and took me tenderly into her arms.
“A child. It is such a blessing,” Rhan said. Then she laughed. “I didn’t even consider it! I was worried you had a wasting sickness.”
“Well, Ceri has known ten namedays. When Prasutagus and I conceived no more children, I believed I would not bear another child.” I relaxed in her embrace and allowed myself to be filled with relief that I wasn’t deathly ill, as well as joy at the knowledge of the new life within me. “Maldwyn will be pleased,” I said softly.
“Yes he will,” Rhan said. “As will all of the Iceni. This is wonderful news, proving the Iceni are fertile and strong and well blessed by Andraste.”
“Well, if this pregnancy is anything like my other two, I will only feel ill for just a couple more full cycles of the moon, and then I will be filled with energy until just before I give birth. That should give us time to defeat the Romans before we celebrate a new member of the royal Iceni family.”
“Yes,” Rhan said softly. “Yes.”
* * *
I sent word to Cadoc that I wished to entertain the chiefs for dinner that evening, and that I would also like Abertha and Briallen to join us. As Wulffaed prepared a special meal of fat chickens glazed with honey and precious baked apples, I went to our herd, where I knew I would find Maldwyn.
“My queen!” He grinned when he saw me feeding one of the apples Wulffaed hoarded to Tân. “Does the Mother of Twenty know that you have absconded with that? I tried to sneak one for Ennis not long ago and she rapped my knuckles with a stick!”
I laughed. “Oh, she knows. And as I’m celebrating, she didn’t seem to mind overly much.”
He joined me at Tân’s side and stroked her neck. “Celebrating? Has there been news?”
“Yes.” I kissed Tân’s soft muzzle and then hooked my arm through his. “Walk with me to the pass. I’d like to watch the sunset.”
“As you ask, so will I do.”
We didn’t speak as we made our way through the camp to the opening to our valley. Dinner was quickly approaching, and the scent of roasting meat that wafted with the breeze had my stomach roiling. I hoped I would be able to eat the honeyed chicken, which was usually one of my favorite dishes. Maldwyn shot me a surprised look when I led him through the pass, which was becoming increasingly muddy as the days lengthened and warmed. We followed the cleared path to where it dipped down, and I stopped. The sun was just dropping beneath the western forest, setting the sky ablaze before it slept beneath the horizon. Its reddish-orange color reminded me of the wildflowers that blanketed Tasceni in the spring, and I felt a sudden deep yearning for home.
Maldwyn placed his hand over mine where it rested on his arm. “Boudicca, what is it?”
I looked at him, surprised to realize my eyes had filled with tears. “I am with child.”
His body went very still. He blinked several times and his gaze slid from my eyes down to my stomach.
“You can’t tell yet,” I said with a breathless laugh.
His gaze shot back to mine. “That’s why you’ve been ill!”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“A child?” He spoke the words as he would a prayer. “Truly?”
“Truly,” I said.
Laughing joyously, he pulled me into his arms, lifted me, and spun me around. “A child!”
I was laughing, too, but when he put me down I staggered a little and almost vomited.
“Oh! Oh, no! Forgive me! I—I didn’t mean to—”
I pressed a finger to his lips. “I am well but should probably not be spun around.”
“Yes, of course! Yes.” Hesitantly, he placed his big hand on my stomach. When he looked up at me again, tears tracked down his cheeks. “I have never known such joy. She will be the finest equestrian in our tribe.”
“She?” I asked with a smile.
“Oh, aye. She,” he said firmly, and I saw no need to argue with him.
* * *
The reaction to the news of my pregnancy ignited the army, chasing away any leftover melancholy lingering after the death of Addedomaros. Unlike Romans, who consider women property to subjugate and control, our people cared for the sacredness of a new life and not whether it was conceived in a marriage or in the freedom of a lover’s bed. As would any Iceni woman, I continued with my daily routine. The only difference was that I now understood my temporary weariness, and when it came over me I listened to my body and rested.
My daughters were perhaps the only Iceni happier than Maldwyn about the child, though they told me they would prefer a baby brother to a sister. Wulffaed immediately began working special reams of cloth for the infant. I received gifts from all of the tribes within camp—mostly choice cuts of meat and precious fruits and vegetables they had hoarded throughout the winter.
A sennight after my announcement, it began to rain, and for the first time since we entered our valley it did not change to sleet or snow, but instead finally heralded the end of our long winter isolation and the beginning of spring—and the freedom we would claim as our own.
Part III
Spring 61 CE
Chapter XL
The spring sun was high in an unusually cloudless sky and I was sweating on the practice field as I attempted to take on Cadoc and Abertha at the same time, mostly unsuccessfully, which the bruises from their wooden swords would bear witness to tomorrow. Except for when I first woke in the morning, I’d stopped feeling sick, but had found that the weeks I’d spent not eating had taken a toll on my strength and speed—a toll I was now paying.
“A rider comes!” One of the sentries always stationed at the narrow mouth of our valley raced up to me. The other chiefs, who were practicing much more successfully not far from me, stopped what they were doing and joined me.
“Roman?” I asked. My voice sounded calm, but my heartbeat pulsed fast and hard through my body.
“No, my queen. He wears the colors of Tribe Brigantes and carries their sigil.”
I hid the flood of relief that almost made me feel dizzy. “Just one rider?” I asked.
“Yes, my queen. He stopped outside the pass and called to us that he has a message for Queen Boudicca from Queen Cartimandua.”
“Escort the rider here. Care for his horse as you would any guest,” I said.
“As you ask, so will I do!”
When the sentry jogged away, I faced the chiefs and their lead warriors.
“Will you join me to greet this messenger from the Brigantes?” I asked.
“Cartimandua is a traitorous bitch,” said Leofric. “She has whored her tribe to Rome.”
“I am aware of that,” I said.
Comux shook his head. “I don’t like it. If she knows we’re here, does that mean the Fourteenth and Twentieth legions are just beyond the forest?”
“That is one reason we need to hear what her messenger has to say,” I said.
Mailcun nodded. “We need more information. I would hear this messenger.”
“Aye,” agreed the others, but reluctantly.
Cadoc looked grim. “I will escort the messenger here.” I nodded and my shield strode off toward the one entrance to our valley.
It didn’t take long. I was still wiping sweat from my face when Cadoc returned with a travel-weary man. He was tall, with dark hair that had just begun to be streaked with gray, and was wearing a cloak dyed the familiar Tribe Brigantes colors of bright flame yellow and black. He stopped before me and bowed deeply.
“Queen Boudicca, I bring you greetings from Queen Cartimandua.” He reached into a leather satchel slung across his shoulder. Cadoc stiffened but relaxed when he pulled forth a long golden chain from which was suspended a pendant stamped with the flames of the goddess Brigantia. It was almost identical to my mother’s pendant—the one I’d placed around the goddess’s neck at her desecrated shrine in Camulodunum. “She sends her kinswoman this token of her affection.”
I accepted the necklace. “Your queen is generous, though I know you did not come all this way only to gift me.” My eyes widened as I saw through the dirt and weariness and recognized him. “Deorwine?”
“Yes, Queen Boudicca!” His smile youthened him and I easily saw the man I’d known when I was a girl living in Isurium, the royal home of Tribe Brigantes. He’d been a stable hand then, and as I spent much of my youth on horseback, I’d known him rather well. “My queen hoped you would remember me.”
“I do.” I returned his smile. “How could I not? I grew up in the Isurium stables.”
“Aye, and now I am horse master for my queen.”
“I am not surprised,” I said. “So, what word do you have for me from your queen?”
“Queen Cartimandua would like to meet with you. She asks if she may have safe passage into your valley.”
Instead of answering I said, “I doubt that I will be in this valley by the time your queen travels from Brigantes territory here.”
“Queen Cartimandua is only half a day’s ride from here,” he said. “She is eager to speak with you and left Isurium the day the roads began to clear enough to travel, hoping that your mountain pass, and you, would allow her entrance.”
I nodded. The tribe into which I’d been born commanded a large area north and east of the Eryri Mountains, and it was also mountainous enough that Cartimandua would have been able to gauge a spring thaw. But how did she know our location? And what did she want?
“Who marches with your queen?” I asked, and heard the chiefs shift restlessly at the question.
“Only her Queen’s Guard,” said Deorwine.
Leofric spat on the ground. “Her guard and a Roman legion?”
“No.” Deorwine’s gaze never left mine as he answered the Catuvellauni chief. “My queen is weary of Roman rule.”
Cadoc snorted. “Since when?”
I held up my hand, cutting off Deorwine’s reply. The air around me sizzled with the chiefs’ barely controlled rage. “Return to Queen Cartimandua. Tell her I will happily receive her and her guard as my guests. Will you rest the night before you ride out?”
“No, Queen Boudicca. My queen eagerly awaits your answer. I would leave immediately.”
“Cadoc, be sure Deorwine eats and then bring him a fresh horse.” I smiled at the Brigantes’ horse master. “Your mount will be well cared for until you return.”
Deorwine bowed low again. “Thank you, Queen Boudicca. Expect Cartimandua tomorrow at midday.”
“Indeed I shall,” I said.
When Deorwine was out of hearing range, Abertha said, “Do we follow him, my queen? If he speaks truthfully we can easily end Cartimandua and her guard, and rid the Brigantes of a traitor.”
“Not here,” I said. “My lodge. All of you.”
The chiefs and Abertha followed me to my cave lodge. Rhan joined us, having seen the Brigantes messenger with Cadoc. As Wulffaed was pouring mead, Cadoc returned with Maldwyn, who had been with the herd when a fresh horse had been chosen for Deorwine.
“Do we follow him?” Cadoc repeated Abertha’s question with no preamble.
“Yes,” I said. “But stealthily. I want Cartimandua to think I believe her message to be genuine.” I drank deeply, clearing the dust from my throat. “Mailcun, we need the fleetest of the Trinovantes horses to follow Deorwine. See if he spoke the truth about with whom the queen travels, and then return here ahead of Cartimandua and report to us.”
“Aye,” Mailcun said. “That can be easily done.”
I motioned for one of Wulffaed’s daughters to take Mailcun’s order to the Trinovantes camp.
“I still believe it would be wise to kill her. Now,” said Leofric.
I nodded. “I understand that desire. Cartimandua has proven to be self-serving. I know that better than anyone here. My father was kinsman to her husband, Venutius. He disagreed with her about allying with the Romans and she divorced him, then commanded her guard to execute several members of his family.”
“Why even meet with her?” asked Comux.
“Because we need to know not just what she wants of us but how she knows we wintered here,” I said. “If she is the tip of the spear for the Roman legions, it will not matter whether I turn her away or not. The Romans already know our location. If I turn her away or kill her, it will not change what the Romans know, but it will ensure we have no more knowledge about them than we do at this moment.”
“I do not think we can trust her,” said Maldwyn.
“Aye,” the chiefs muttered.
“We aren’t trusting her. We’re listening to what she has to say. But we shall do more than that. Tomorrow at midday the practice field will be filled with our warriors training. Spread the word. We wear our battle finery.” My smile was filled with confidence. “Queen Cartimandua will witness for herself the might of our army.”
* * *
The warrior sent to follow Deorwine returned at first light after having ridden all night. He reported that Cartimandua was, indeed, only escorted by two dozen Queen’s Guard and her horse master. He even backtracked the queen’s trail and saw no sign of Rome or any other warriors.
When the sun was high overhead, the crowded training field rang with the sounds of blows and the thunder of chariots. Goats and pigs and cattle had been slaughtered and spitted so that enticing aromas wafted throughout the camp. Iceni, Dobunni, Trinovantes, and Catuvellauni wore their colors proudly when Queen Cartimandua, in an ornate chariot pulled by matching black stallions and driven by Deorwine, entered our valley with Cadoc escorting them within. Her Queen’s Guard followed, all mounted on black horses, as was tradition for Tribe Brigantes. They were a magnificent sight.
I waited at the mouth of my cave lodge wearing the Beltane dress my mother had embroidered for me. My hair was free and my torque was my only jewelry. Rhan stood beside me wearing the white robes Wulffaed had meticulously dyed and fashioned for her, proclaiming her station as high Druid for all to see. Under my direction, Wulffaed had staged the interior of the lodge carefully. My chair had been draped with fox pelts and elevated to become a throne. On either side of me, chairs had been situated. Mailcun, Leofric, and Comux sat to one side. On the other were chairs for Rhan, Cadoc, Maldwyn, and Abertha. Briallen would stand guard at my throne. The long table had been placed before my throne, so that Cartimandua, her horse master, and the leader of her guard could sit. The rest of her guard would remain outside.
As Cartimandua came into view, I was reminded of her beauty. Though she was far from young, the queen of the Brigantes was a striking woman. She wasn’t tall, but what she lacked in height she made up for in presence. I remembered her as foxlike. Her chin was pointed and her nose straight and strong. Her eyes were an unusual amber color. Her hair had been a unique mixture of blond and auburn but was now completely silver gray—a mane that spread out around her in a mass of thick curls held back by a gold coronet. Her face was painted in bold lines of black and white and brilliant yellow that met the black tattoos adorning her neck and chest. She wore a flame-colored dress. Its bodice was covered with a huge stag embroidered with white thread. Her torque was familiar. She’d been wearing it since I was a child—twisted gold that ended in antlers. Her arms were covered with gold bangles, and around her shapely waist there was a slender golden chain from which dangled a large pendant of a golden stag.
Deorwine helped her from the chariot. The leader of her Queen’s Guard dismounted and went to her side as she and Deorwine followed Cadoc to where I waited.
Cartimandua paused before me and bowed her head. “Queen Boudicca, it has been far too long since last we met.” Her distinctive voice, low and husky, evoked my childhood, when the queen would often come to our lodge for drinks and discussions about which horses my father would keep and which stallions would be bred to that season’s mares. I steeled myself against an unexpected wave of longing for my dead father.
I bowed in return. “Welcome to my winter lodge, Queen Cartimandua. Enter as an honored guest.”
But instead of coming into the lodge, Cartimandua’s sharp fox-colored gaze went to Rhan. “I see you have a Druid. I envy you. They are rare.”
“I am Rhan, the high Druid, Queen Cartimandua,” Rhan said, correcting her immediately.
The queen’s gaze traveled down Rhan’s white robes. “Yes, I can see that. It saddens me that Derwyn did not escape the massacre at Ynys Môn.”
Cadoc, who had already walked past me to take his seat, snorted, and I heard the low, disgruntled mutters of the chiefs who were already inside.
“Will you join me within?” I asked Cartimandua. “You must be hungry and thirsty after your long journey.”
“Indeed I am. But first, I brought you a gift.” She motioned over her shoulder at one of her guards. “Two barrels of fine Roman wine.” The guard led forward a black gelding who had barrels strapped on either side of his wide back.
“A generous gift,” I said as she followed me inside. Her Queen’s Guard also tried to enter, but Briallen stepped before them, spear blocking their way. When Cartimandua’s warriors began to protest, the queen looked back at them and smiled.
