Page 28 of Boudicca

To Derwyn’s left was the youngest of the Iceni lead warriors, Maldwyn the horse master, whom I had elevated to the position just weeks ago. He was even taller than Cadoc, though his body was litheand graceful instead of thick like the much older shield. His hair was wavy and rested on his shoulders. He, like all of our cavalry and charioteers, used a lime paste to bleach his hair shocking white, which contrasted brilliantly with the intricately tattooed images of rearing horses that decorated his broad shoulders and neck. His cornflower-blue eyes were rimmed in red, and he unashamedly let tears flow down his cheeks.

I wished with all my heart that they had been at my side the day before, as I could not imagine even a centuria of Rome cutting them down.

I felt more than heard Rhan’s sharp intake of startled breath. I glanced at my friend and followed her gaze around the circle to see a small group of warriors clustered together who wore the distinctive red cloaks of Trinovantes royalty. I instantly recognized Rhan’s father, Addedomaros, chief of our longtime allies.

Good.I stilled my nerves by reasoning.With Addedomaros here it will save me the need to spread the word that I remain queen of the Iceni. Because I shall continue to rule. I must continue to rule. I have a curse to fulfill.

I spoke directly to the grizzled shield of the Iceni.

“Cadoc, I greet you with great sadness, though I am pleased to have our warriors home again.”

Cadoc inclined his head slightly, showing respect to me as queen but not the deference my warrior husband would have commanded from him. “Boudicca, our hearts broke when the Druid came to us with such tragic news. Our queen’s mother is dead. And so many of our grandmothers and grandfathers have joined her that our tears could coax the Tas from her bank and change the course of that mighty river. We are heartened to find you alive and unharmed. Derwyn has greeted us, but he has not explained to us how this horror came to be.”

I faced his underlying question without flinching.Let me get this over with and still the wagging tongues before they can ruin me and our people.

“How this horror came to be I cannot answer, though I may know one who can. I can answer the question you leave unasked,which is how I am alive when so many of our elders died and my daughters were brutalized so badly that they cannot leave their mother’s lodge.” Restless murmurs rustled through the tribe. I continued speaking while my gaze traveled around the tribe, lighting on familiar faces with a confidence and ease the Iceni would later boast of—how their mighty queen was a master at holding an audience rapt. “The goddess Andraste compelled me to enter Annwn yesterday at dawn. She appeared to me before the Romans invaded our village. She gave me a choice. Die fighting the Romans with my mother and our elders, or live and correct the grave mistake made by Prasutagus.”

The murmurs around me grew to angry words so numerous that they were like the tall stalks of wheat in the surrounding field rustling in a great wind.

Derwyn’s staff rang against the hardened ground, silencing the tribe. “Your queen speaks! She will be heard before you judge her.”

I fisted my hands at my sides. My fingernails dug into my palms, drawing blood. But I did not flinch, nor did I waver.

“I was given the same choice my husband had been given before he signed away our freedom to the Romans—listen to the goddess or to my own ego. I chose to listen to Andraste. He did not.”

Cadoc’s eyes narrowed on me. “You insult your husband, our chief?”

“Never. I will never insult my husband, our chief, whom I loved well. But I will not hide the truth Andraste showed me.” My gaze held Cadoc’s. “Derwyn, tell them.”

The high Druid stepped forward. “Iceni, you wonder why I have been absent these many months, before and after the death of your chief? The reason is simple. I interpreted the omen Andraste sent when Prasutagus asked whether he should sign the treaty with Rome. The goddess’s answer was clear. The hare died suddenly, here, on the spot where months later your queen was flogged almost unto death by the procurator.” Derwyn’s gaze met Cadoc’s. “You misspoke, Iceni shield. Your queen is not unharmed. Her back was flayed to the bone.” Then his gaze continued around the circle. “Boudicca speakstruth. Your chief did not heed Andraste’s omen, though I spoke her response to his question honestly and truly.”

Shocked whispers passed through the tribe. At my lifted hand, they went silent.

“I witnessed the goddess’s second warning sign,” I told them, “the day it happened and again yesterday, in the cauldron of Andraste. You witnessed it too, Cadoc. Our goddess’s raven was killed by a golden eagle and dropped at my husband’s feet. It happened here—almost exactly where a man who carried the talisman of an eagle on his golden armor bound me to a stake.

“But, once again, Prasutagus ignored the sign. He refused to listen to the goddess. Yesterday I chose to listen and to follow Andraste, our goddess of war, until every Roman is washed from our land in a river of their own blood.”

The people remained silent. I saw Cadoc’s internal struggle on his well-lined face. He had loved Prasutagus dearly. I understood how difficult the truth was for him to process; it had been difficult for me as well. But I also knew that Cadoc was a wise warrior. He could be reasoned with, should I gain his support.

“I hear you, Queen Boudicca,” said Cadoc. “I look at the signs sent by Andraste with new eyes. I hated the Romans before today. Now my loathing takes on a new life. Our queen mother is dead. My beloved mother is dead. I have seen her old, frail body, impaled by a Roman pilum. I want vengeance with my every breath. But you have only ruled for three full cycles of the moon, and you have never led warriors into battle.”

Derwyn spoke up. “When did the Iceni begin measuring courage strictly by experience on the battlefield?”

Cadoc shrugged. “Derwyn, I do not question Boudicca’s courage. It is her experience, or lack thereof, that gives me cause to question her.” The warrior turned back to me and continued. “In normal times, when we are at peace, I would gladly continue to bend my knee to you. But what happened yesterday changed that. The days have turned red as the river you boast about drowning the Romans in. Tell me, Boudicca, how a queen who is not a warrior survivessuch a flood—especially a queen who seems to have misplaced her torque.”

My face blazed with heat and I had to force myself not to reach up to touch the empty place around my neck.

“The symbol of my leadership is missing because a cowardly Roman stole it from me while I was bound and beaten. But in answer to the rest of your insolent question, I will repeat to you—to all of you,” I shouted, “the words I cursed the Romans with—the words I know Andraste heard because I chose to follow her will and not my own.”

As I repeated the curse, a wind swept through the field. It swirled around me, lifting my fire-colored hair as if I rode a war chariot against our enemies. It amplified my voice and carried it to each tribe member as if I spoke to him or her individually.

When I finished I waited a moment, and then, as the echo faded, I repeated, “Through my blood and with my goddess-blessed breath, I have cursed you unto death!I will not rest until every Roman who was here yesterday—every one who slaughtered our elders, violated my daughters, and flogged your queen—has been sent to their underworld for judgment.” I strode forward. Briallen and Rhan moved with me as if we three were one, until I stood directly before Cadoc. “Andraste set me on this path. She did not speak of my inexperience.Instead the goddess reminded me that she named me Victory!Do you claim to be wiser than a goddess?”

The field was hushed. Even the wind had gone still.

Cadoc ignored my question and repeated stubbornly, “I would follow you in peace, but you have never been in a battle. Never led a tribe into war.”

I turned my back to Cadoc. Before he could respond, I commanded. “Gar! Bring forth your captive!”