Page 143 of Boudicca

“Mama, is that a stag?”

My youngest daughter pointed to a modest roundhouse situated in the middle of a cleared area we’d been skirting. There was just enough light left to illuminate a tall standing stone before the home, on which was carved the head of a proud stag.

“It is,” I said as Briallen and I exchanged a glance.

“Brigantia told us to look for signs. The goddess would not misspeak,” said Briallen.

“Agreed.” I turned to the girls. “We will be safe here for the night. Come, girls. Keep Sunne and Mona close. All is well.” If I spoke the words perhaps I would believe them, though the weight of the sword strapped to my back reassured me as we headed to the roundhouse.

As we reached the standing stone, a middle-aged man and woman emerged. I lifted my hands, palms out, showing that I held no violent intent. “I see blessed Brigantia is the patron goddess of your home,” I said.

“She is, indeed,” said the man. He was tall and round with a sunlight-colored beard that was so long it rested on his barrel chest. “As she is the goddess of Tribe Brigantes.”

I attempted a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Then in the goddess’s name I ask succor for my daughters, our companion, and me for the night.” I paused, and then, hoping I was correct in believing that the saddlebags Rhan had packed contained coin, added, “We can pay for a meal and a pallet. Have you a barn? That will do nicely.”

The woman moved from the man’s side. Staring up at me, she approached, stopping only when she reached Tân’s head. Her eyes widened. “I know you,” she whispered. Abruptly, she turned to her husband. “Ecgbert, be a love and scatter fresh bedding in the barn. I will feed them while their clothes dry by our hearthfire.” Her husband muttered but headed toward the rear of their modest settlement. “Stay outside, mind!” she shouted after him. “Until I tell you they’re dried and dressed.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do out here in the dark?” Ecgbert grumbled.

“Build a fire outside the barn and it won’t be dark.” She sighed and added, “Get the last of the spring beer from the stream. That’ll keep you happy while I tend to these poor travelers.”

“Oh, aye.” Ecgbert’s voice lifted with his quickened steps, and with much greater enthusiasm he hurried away.

“Come, come. You are welcome in my home.” The wife smiled up at me. “I’m Romilly.” As we slid stiffly from our horses, she bowed. “And you are Queen Boudicca.”

My gaze snapped to hers, but before I could speak she added, “My husband is Parisi. He will not recognize you. But I am Brigantes and would know the Iceni queen born in our royal city anywhere. You led an army against Rome, and that is all I know except that youare safe here. On that you have my oath in the name of the goddess Brigantia.”

“May the goddess bless you for your kindness,” I said.

“I’ll tend to the horses and then join you,” said Briallen.

The girls and I followed Romilly into her roundhouse where she cared for us, helping us out of our soaked clothes, wrapping us in blankets, and sitting us before the hearthfire as she heated slabs of pork and sliced fresh bread and cheese for us. She even fed Sunne and Mona. Briallen joined us, carrying the heavy saddlebags, within which rested a purse of coins. And then, while we ate, Romilly talked. She told us it was safest to stay west, as close to the coast as possible, while we slipped through my old tribe’s territory. She spoke of the stories being told about me. How I’d united thousands of Britons against the scourge of Rome. How I’d brought hope even to tribes allied with Rome, like the Brigantes. Enfys and Ceri listened with sparkling eyes as Romilly spoke of my greatness.

I said nothing.

As the girls dressed in their warm, dry clothes, their eyelids went heavy. Briallen took Romilly to the side. I heard some of their whispered conversation—enough to know my warrior told of our defeat through treachery. When Romilly turned to me, tears streaked her cheeks.

Romilly led us to their barn, calling to her husband that he could return to the roundhouse. He staggered past us, too far into his cups to truly see us. The barn was small and tidy. Two plow horses shared one large stall. Our four horses shared the other two. Goats made nests in the straw and bleated softly as we entered but then settled quickly. Ecgbert had scattered fresh straw for us in the only section of the barn not inhabited by goats or chickens.

“Queen Boudicca, I’m sorry that this...” She gestured around her at the barn.

“This is perfect,” I assured her. “Thank you.”

“I can keep my Ecgbert in bed until the sun is above the horizon,” Romilly said.

“We will be gone at dawn.” I went to the saddlebags Briallen hadbrought from the house. “There is coin here to pay you.” I reached into the heavy purse to extract payment.

Romilly was at my side in an instant. She touched my arm hesitantly and said, “No, Queen Boudicca. I cannot take your payment. My home is blessed to have been chosen to succor you the day you need it the most. That is payment enough, as Brigantia’s memory is long and she rewards her own.”

I bowed my head to her. “You have my gratitude, as well as the goddess’s.”

“And may blessed Brigantia guide you and keep you safe, great queen.” Romilly bowed deeply before she left the barn.

The girls were asleep almost immediately. I curled on one side of them. Briallen took first watch and would wake me when the moon was high in the sky. She stood by the opening to the barn. Just outside, the fire Ecgbert had lit cast flickering shadows over her, illuminating the strong line of her jaw and the stubborn set of her shoulders.

“Briallen?”

She turned to look at me.