Page 20 of Boudicca

The children, walking as stiffly as the battered warrior, went through the heavy pelt curtain to the queen mother’s chamber with the healer, who closed it securely behind them.

I thought my heart might shatter.

“They will heal.” Rhan’s voice was almost inaudible, but I could hear the tears in it.

“Their bodies will. It is the damage to their minds I most fear.”

“If you allow it, I will meditate on how to help them heal completely,” said Rhan.

I nodded as my childhood friend and I made our way back to the entrance to the lodge. “Thank you. I will gladly accept your help.” Derwyn was there, alone, waiting just outside the wide wooden doors. He stared at the darkening sky as if the answers of the universe could be found there.

“Are the girls calmer now?”

“They’re with Adara. Briallen, the warrior from my guard, won’t leave them. It gives them comfort. Please, you are welcome in my lodge.”

Derwyn did not enter. Instead he spoke solemnly. His next words shook me to my soul. “I understand it has been too much too fast—losing husband and mother and the elders of your tribe within three short months.”

He put a heavy hand on my shoulder, and I suddenly felt small and weak as his sorrow and compassion cooled my anger.

Derwyn continued. “But you must put aside your grief. The Iceni need you desperately. You are their stability.”

“And only you can fulfill the curse,” Rhan added.

The screams of my daughters lifted easily from my memory. I thought they would always be there, waiting so close to the surface of my mind that they would shadow the rest of my life. I heard their screams anew and let rage burn through my grief. “I will make Decianus and his soldiers pay.”

“Your curse shall be fulfilled. Decianus will be punished,” Derwyn said slowly. “But do not be blinded by lust for vengeance. The men who violated your daughters and killed your people were not Decianus’s men. Like the procurator’s power, they were only borrowed from your true enemy, Gaius Suetonius Paulinus, named governor by the Romans.”

“I remember Paulinus from the signing of the treaty,” I said. “I told Prasutagus he had eyes that looked dead.”

Derwyn nodded. “An apt description. It is that dead-eyed governor who commands the Romans who infest our country.” His voice deepened with anger. “Our people have begun living in constant fear. Romans tax us beyond reason so that we,the people who tend this land,starve while our invaders grow fat. They desecrate our shrines and build temples to their foreign gods.” His gaze met mine. “They must be stopped. Paulinus must be defeated. It is to him the new Iceni queen must look for true vengeance.”

“Derwyn, I have no experience leading warriors into battle!” As I blurted the words I felt the weight of the golden symbol of leadership that rested unseen within the pouch still slung across my body, as if it were made of sorrow and not gold.

“The gods care nothing for your battle experience. They care for your heart, for your spirit, and for the bravery and wisdom that fill both,” said Rhan.

“If the warriors acknowledge you as their queen, it matters not at all whether you have led them into battle once, a hundred times, or never,” Derwyn said. “As your husband already taught you, gain the support of the warriors and you have gained the tribe.”

“But how do I do that? I could not stop the Romans. Decianus flogged me, and he is a weak little man. I watched them slaughtergrandmothers and grandfathers and could do nothing.” Though the words disgusted me, I felt a great sense of relief in spitting them out.

“No single warrior could have stood alone against Roman soldiers—not even the most experienced of them,” Derwyn said.

“You could have thrown your life away fighting the Romans. Instead you chose to live. You chose to survive. You made the right choice.” Rhan eerily echoed the words of Andraste.

“Rhan speaks wisdom. Your survival will give your people hope,” said Derwyn.

“It will give them more than hope,” said Rhan. “It will give them a focus for their anger, and the power of that anger is what will fulfill your curse.” The ovate reached out and tapped me once on the center of my forehead. “Speak it, Queen Boudicca!”

Heat blossomed through my head, permanently etching into my memory the curse that had lifted from my soul to Andraste’s ravens and to the goddess herself.

“Catus Decianus, procurator of the emperor Nero, I curse you and every man here. For taking my mother’s life and violating my daughters, you will know the fire of Brigantia. For what you have done to the Iceni, you will know the vengeance of Andraste.Your homes will burn. Your women will burn. Your children will burn. You will all—every one of you—suffer more than my daughters and my tribe. You will cry out for mercy and you will be shown none, because, Caius Decianus, through my blood and with my goddess-blessed breath, I have cursed you unto death!”

I blinked and scrubbed a hand across my face when I finished. I felt strange, as if I had just surfaced after a deep dive into cold waters. “Andraste was listening. Of that I have no doubt.”

“Then do not doubt your goddess! She found you worthy to lead the Iceninow, not at some future date when you are a more experienced warrior,” said Rhan.

Derwyn nodded. “Remember that when you face your people. And now I will leave you to ready yourself.”

“Ready myself? The warriors are more than half a day away. Even riding hard, they will not be here before dawn.”