Page 121 of Boudicca

“He does not have the skill to best me,” I said.

“You bitch! I should—” Adminius began to hiss at me, but Mailcun struck him across the mouth with the back of his hand, causing blood to well on his bottom lip.

“Enough.” Mailcun did not raise his voice, but the command carried the weight of decades of leadership. “You have long been a fool, Adminius. Who the queen takes to her bed is no concern of yours. And the high Druid, your sister, has refused to even be considered for the torque—though I can tell you if she agreed to wear it I would gladly follow her.”

“But I—”

“Be silent!” Mailcun said before looking to me again. “What would you do with him, Queen of the Iceni?”

“I would like to know what the chief of the Trinovantes would do with him,” I said.

“We have no chief. Not yet,” said Mailcun.

I looked past him to the Trinovantes lead warriors, who stood silently, frowning at Adminius. “What say you? Who will wear your torque?”

Ackley, spear master of Tribe Trinovantes, stepped forward. “I say Mailcun should wear the torque.”

Mailcun’s body jerked, and he turned so that he could face the warriors. He opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, but I placed a hand on his arm and he pressed his lips together.

Next Miburga, the brilliant horse master of the Trinovantes, stepped up beside Ackley. Miburga’s mane of sliver-streaked auburn hair hung wild and long to her waist. She was a tall, lean woman who had for two decades led the breeding program that created the swiftest horses in Britain. Her choice was as important as the high Druid’s to her tribe. She spoke without even glancing at Adminius.

“I say Mailcun should wear the torque.”

Adminius made a sputtering sound, but I pressed the tip of the sword more firmly to his chest and turned my gaze to Rhan. “Whatsay you, high Druid? Do you support the choice of Tribe Trinovantes in naming Mailcun their chief?”

Rhan stood. She walked to Mailcun, opened her hands, palms up, and closed her eyes. Immediately from somewhere outside came the piercing call of a stallion. It echoed against the curved, tapestry-covered walls around us so that it seemed the horse stood beside Mailcun.

Rhan opened her eyes and smiled. “I do, as does Epona.”

“The goddess has spoken!” said Miburga. “Mailcun will forever be known as chief of Tribe Trinovantes!”

“Aye!” shouted the warriors.

“What is it you would do with your tribesman?” I asked Mailcun.

Mailcun stared down at Adminius and blew out another long breath before he spoke. “Because of my love for your father, I will not kill you. Nor can I pass that task to any of our people.”

Adminius’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“Miburga, ready one horse. Fill its packs with supplies.”

“As you ask, so will I do,” said the Trinovantes horse master.

“Adminius, you are sentenced to banishment,” continued Mailcun. “From this day forth you may not enter any lands held by Tribe Trinovantes. If you do I will not allow the love I had for your father to stay my hand. I will kill you myself.”

“But it’s the middle of winter. Being sent out there means death!” Adminius sounded like a child arguing with his elders.

“Then that will be the will of the gods.” Mailcun turned to me. “I shall take him from you now, Queen Boudicca.”

I nodded and stepped back. Mailcun grabbed Adminius’s arm and jerked him to his feet. The newly made chief bowed his head to me. “I apologize for the insult a Trinovantes tribesman committed against you this night.”

I bowed my head in return. “The insult was not of your making. You have nothing to apologize for.”

His voice deepened with sadness. “I do, though it is far too late to fix a lifetime of looking the other way.” Mailcun shook his head as ifto rid himself of the past. “Will you join me in seeing the banishment fulfilled, queen of the Iceni?”

“When?” I asked.

Mailcun’s gaze went to the opening of the cave. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the gray of morning. “As soon as Miburga can ready a horse.”