Page 107 of Boudicca

“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.

My cave lodge was filled with women, young and old. Wulffaed and her daughters took turns with women I did not know servingfood and mulled mead, and by the end of the day I knew the name of each of them—and I, too, had taken a turn serving the strong, beautiful women of my tribe.

“Rhan!” I finally caught sight of my friend through the crowd of women. I’d looked for her at the bank of the lake but had lost her in the milling mass.

“Queen Boudicca,” she said after she’d pushed her way to where I was seated before the central hearthfire.

“There you are. Come, sit before me. I have a surprise for you.” Phaedra was behind me, working a wide-toothed comb through my damp hair, and I turned to her. “You know the pebbles on the table in my bedchamber?”

“I do, my queen.”

“Get them for me, please.” Phaedra nodded and went to do my bidding. I motioned to a short stool before me on which I’d been resting my feet. “Sit, Rhan.” The seer gave me a slanted look that was a clear question, but I simply smiled and pointed to the stool. Rhan sighed and sat before me.

“Enfys, Ceri—did you bathe your wolves?” Rhan asked with laughter in her voice.

My daughters sat on either side of me. Their wolves, now almost fully grown, lay in front of them, as close as they could get to the fire, their muzzles in their paws, looking waterlogged and miserable.

“We did!” Ceri chirped. “Mona and Sunne rolled in something very stinky and we decided it would be perfect for them to join us on Arianell’s Day.”

“Yes,” Enfys added. “Especially as Nain would not approve of our wolves making our bed pallets stinky.”

I laughed. “She certainly would not.” Phaedra returned and passed me a handful of pebbles. I leaned forward, showing them to Rhan. They were all tiny but of varying shapes. They were as black as Rhan’s eyes, and each had a hole through its center. I’d been gathering them daily when I walked along the bank of the lake and had been waiting for the right time to gift them to Rhan.

Rhan peered into my palm. “They look like miniature seer stones.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Druids sometimes used much larger versions of the pebbles in my hand to focus and look beyond into Annwn. I was glad Rhan saw the similarities. “Turn around. I’ll braid them into your hair.”

Rhan’s cheeks flushed bright pink. She lowered her voice. “Oh, no. That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Of course it would.” And then I realized that she had never spent cold winter days with the women of her tribe dressing each other’s hair. Her mother had died when she was just a child. Addedomaros had not remarried, and then at fifteen Rhan had been sent to Ynys Môn to train with the Druids—I did not imagine they had this particularly homey tradition on their isle. “Rhan, my mother often dressed the hair of other women.”

“Yes, Rhan,” Ceri said, nodding. “Nain even braided Dafina’s hair.”

“When Dafina let her,” added Enfys.

“It’s appropriate. Today I’m not a queen. I am an Iceni woman.”

“Then I thank you, my qu—” Rhan caught herself and grinned. “Boudicca.”

Rhan’s blond hair was almost silver when it was wet. It dried quickly, smelling of rosemary as I combed it out and began braiding the pebbles into the ends of it so that as she walked they would clink musically together.

I was so content and warmed by the fire and the mulled mead in my constantly refilled mug that I didn’t notice how late it was until my daughters stood, yawned, and kissed me good night.

I blinked and looked around me as I finished placing the final pebble in Rhan’s hair. “When did the sun set?”

Wulffaed laughed as she walked past me carrying a tray laden with dirty dishes. “Some time ago, my queen. It is well past the dinner hour.”

“But none of the warriors came for a meal,” I said.

“Naw, they took one look at this lodge packed with women and decided to find another hearthfire for the evening,” said Briallen as she bowed to me. “’Twas a bonny day.”

“Yes, it was,” I said, smiling.