Page 24 of Boudicca

Wordlessly, I took the pot, noting that beside it was a fine painting brush made with clipped horsehair bristles, much like the one I had used to decorate my own face. I dipped the brush in the pot of indigo dye made from simmering bilberries, black beans, and purple cabbage, which had been cooled and thickened. It was the exact color of our woad-dyed clothes. Then I joined Rhan at my mother’s head. Rhan paused in the braiding of Arianell’s hair to fold down the cloth, baring Arianell’s chest and arms.

I hesitated. “I—I am not sure what to paint.”

“Think of what was dear to your mother. Brigantia will guide your hand.”

Rhan spoke with such certainty that my hesitation evaporated, and I began painting symbols of the Iceni on Arianell’s forehead, likethose on my own, which had brought my tribe comfort as I greeted their sad homecoming that night.

From her forehead I moved to Arianell’s chest, where I painted Brigantia’s symbol, the head of a stag, in the center between her breasts, with massive antlers that covered each of her shoulders, the tips of which would decorate her pale neck.

As I painted the elaborate image, a great sense of peace came over me. Anointing my mother’s body was an intimate thing, a beautiful thing—a thing that I did with love and care and the bittersweet understanding that this was the last time I was going to touch her, care for her, be a daughter to her. I worked slowly, patiently. I was not the artist my mother had been, but I did have some skill in creating the symbols that were such an important part of our lives, and as they took form I felt as if Arianell was close by, watching with approval.

“She is, you know.” Rhan had returned to braiding my mother’s hair.

“Can you hear everyone’s thoughts now, or still just mine?”

“I remember telling you many times that I could not truly hear your thoughts; I could only guess them as I studied your face. But, yes, my skill has improved over the past years.”

“She is really here?” I asked the question with a voice that was soft with seeking.

“Your mother is close. I can feel her presence. As we get nearer to Beltane the veil between the Otherworld, Annwn, and our world, Arbred, becomes thinner and thinner—and Arianell is of the newly dead. She will remain close until her pyre is lit, and perhaps even after, be it the will of her goddess.”

“I want to make her proud.”

“If you do what is best for your people, you will make her proud.”

“But how do I know what is best for us? My husband thought he knew, and he gave us away to the Romans. He was older, wiser, and had led us for decades—yet still he chose poorly.”

“Prasutagus did not heed the signs sent to him by Andraste.”

I looked up from my work to see Derwyn standing just inside the open front of the preparation room. I met his gray gaze and spoke the truth.

“The hare was the first omen. Its death was meant to show Prasutagus what would happen if he made Rome co-regent with me.”

“Indeed.” Derwyn nodded slightly. “You see the proof of that before you.”

I turned my gaze back to the symbols I was drawing on my dead mother’s body but continued to speak to the high Druid.

“Andraste sent Prasutagus another sign. Just before he made the treaty with Rome, an eagle slew a raven and dropped it at his feet in this very field, almost exactly where the procurator tied me to the post and flogged me. Mere paces from where our girls were brutalized.”

“Prasutagus did not tell me of this second sign, but I observed the first one.”

“I remember. I was there that day. Could you not have warned him?”

“I interpreted the omen accurately!” The Druid’s voice filled the hut, raising the hairs on my forearms with its power. “It was Prasutagus who would not listen, who refused to see and only believed a truth he had already chosen!”

I lifted my head and met the Druid’s gaze again. It took all of my will not to flinch and allow my eyes to dart away.I am queen of the mighty Iceni, consecrated by the Druids, chosen by my people, blessed by our goddess.I will not be cowed by any mortal man.But Derwyn was not a normal mortal, and it was all I could do to meet his gaze. I could not form the words to defend a husband who had been so purposefully blind, no matter how much I had loved him.

The Druid sighed and the small structure returned to normal. Derwyn was, once again, familiar and kind. “You forget yourself in your grief or you would know that I have always spoken truth to the chiefs and queens of the great tribes.”

“Andraste showed it to me. My husband ignored the goddess’s signs.”

“So you did visit Annwn today,” Rhan said.

I glanced up at her. “I did. I was compelled there by Andraste and led by Brigantia’s stag.”

“The queen of the Iceni was named Victory by the goddess of war at her birth.” Derwyn nodded slowly. “I have known you were to be queen since that day. And now I know that you will also lead us against the Romans.”

“I will right the wrong my husband did,” I said.