Page 134 of Boudicca

“May they be with us all, and may Britain be forever free,” I said.

“Aye!” the chiefs shouted.

Chapter XLII

We spent the rest of the day preparing. We tucked the majority of the caravans into the western slope of the hill, only bringing a dozen wagons within the valley and situating them well to the rear, positioned so that they could just be seen from the entrance. Among those dozen caravans, the chiefs and I, with our lead warriors and guards, would spend the night before the battle. But we did not retreat to our campfires until after we’d walked among our warriors. Morale was high. Army camps become a living thing, with personalities and emotions. Our camp was restless and eager—a young stallion straining to race the wind. Of course there were nerves, but Camulodunum, Londinium, and Verulamium had seasoned the bulk of our warriors. They knew what would be expected of them and were eager for dawn and another victory.

Offering bowls filled with sweets and mead dotted the camp. Bundles of dried herbs were burned and richly scented smoke drifted with the night breeze. I’d just begun wondering after Rhan when she seemed to materialize from the herb-laden smoke. I smiled and hooked my arm through hers. She smelled of the forest and of the rosemary smoke through which she’d come. We walked together slowly without speaking.

Maldwyn had already bid me good night and gone to sleep with Ennis and Finley, as he was wont to do the night before a battle. I suspected that he got little sleep but spent most of the night checking and rechecking their harnesses, the chariot, and our weapons.

As usual, Rhan knew the slant of my thoughts. “Maldwyn has gone to be with the horses already?”

“Yes. The chiefs and I are sleeping within the valley. Would you join me?”

Rhan pressed her shoulder into mine. “Always.”

We’d come to the mouth of the valley and turned within. “Enfys and Ceri are insisting on staying in the valley as well,” I said.

Rhan nodded. “It is only right that they do. I assume they will join you when you speak to the army before the battle tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll drive the chariot. The girls will be with me, and their wolves will run beside the chariot,” I added with a smile.

Rhan laughed softly. “You will be quite the sight. The mighty Queen Boudicca, Andraste’s Victory, her daughters, and the wolves who watch over them.”

“The warriors do love those wolves,” I said. “Not that they can actually touch them without being in danger of having their arms taken off.”

Rhan shrugged. “Briallen can touch them. You can. I can. Oh, and Maldwyn, of course, can. No one else needs to.”

“Exactly what I think.” We approached the wagons where my guard, my daughters, and my lead warriors congregated around a large central fire. Three of Wulffaed’s daughters were singing an old planting song that spoke of new life being sown. Their voices sounded like home and evoked memories of the fertile fields that surrounded Tasceni.

As Rhan and I approached, Cadoc stood, bowed to me, and motioned for me to take his seat on a rough log. I thanked him and sat, with Rhan close beside me. Wulffaed’s daughters had begun an Ostara song that celebrated the awakening of the earth as the goddess arises from her winter sleep when Enfys and Ceri joined me. My daughters sat on the ground in front of me, leaning back on my legs. Their wolves curled on either side of them, snouts on paws, appearing sleepy, but in truth the firelight reflected yellow in their ever-watchful eyes. My fingers combed through first Enfys’s and then Ceri’s long hair. My girls relaxed back against me, filling me with determination.

Tomorrow would not be just another battle. It would decide whether the war would be won or lost. We must win.

***

I fell asleep in Rhan’s arms while she caressed my hair. It seemed I had hardly closed my eyes when Rhan, fully dressed, was standing beside my pallet gently shaking me awake.

I woke instantly and sat up. “Is it time?”

“It is. Briallen is readying the girls. I have your things here but would ask that you follow me to cleanse yourself,” said Rhan as she lifted a pile of my battle leathers and a basket from which I caught the sharp scent of body paint.

Wearing only a cloak to cover my nakedness, I followed Rhan outside my tent. It was far enough from dawn that the sky had just begun to change from black to gray, but our small camp was already humming with activity.

“Take this with you, my queen.” Wulffaed handed Rhan and me meat, hot from the fire, wrapped in fresh bread with a thick slab of cheese. She bowed deeply to me, which was unusual. Wulffaed usually behaved like an overbearing grandmother, but in the predawn lightening I could see the somber look in her eyes. I only had two daughters and one more child growing within me. Wulffaed was the Mother of Twenty, grandmother of uncounted more. In her gaze I saw hope laced with worry. I understood that look too well.

Impulsively, I pulled the old woman into my arms, hugging her tightly. “Thank you. You brought contentment back to my lodge. That is a gift I can never repay.”

I released her and she cupped my face between her gnarled hands. “Just live past this battle. That will be payment enough.”

“She will,” Rhan said firmly.

Wulffaed’s whole body relaxed. “Aye, well, if our high Druid says it, then it will be so.”

I slanted a look at Rhan, but she said no more as we chewed our food and walked from the far end of the valley and into the woods. The incline began with the trees and climbed almost straight up. I followed Rhan as she took a serpentine path that slithered up the hill, leading us to a fast-moving stream that cascaded down from above.

Rhan placed the basket she’d been carrying near the bank and then turned to me. “I did not sleep. Instead Andraste compelled meto this stream. Annwn is close here.” She gestured across the narrow stream to where two rowan trees stood. They were covered in delicate cream-colored flowers and were so close that their branches wove together to create a living arch.