Page 30 of Boudicca

Derwyn took several strides to stand in the center of the raptly watching tribe. He turned slowly as he held out his arms, giving the Iceni plain view of the bloody omen sent from our patron goddess as he announced, “Andraste approves of Boudicca’s judgment!” When he had come full circle he stopped, facing me. “But this is not theonly sign the goddess has sent to show she has blessed your leadership, is it,QueenBoudicca?”

My heart hammered so hard that in the eerie silence of the waiting tribe I thought they should all be able to hear it. Still, I strode to stand beside Derwyn to address my people.

“I already told you I spent much of yesterday in Annwn, in the presence of Andraste. The goddess gave me knowledge of the past, revealing my husband’s terrible mistake, as well as asking me to choose to either survive the Roman attack or join my people in the tragedy. When I let Andraste and not my ego guide me, the goddess showed her approval by giving me a gift.”

It was time.

I reached into the satchel and grasped the thick gold torque that had been my husband’s sign of leadership, buried with him three months earlier. I raised the torque above my head so that it caught the morning light and glittered as if it had been lit from within.

“Behold, the torque of Prasutagus!” Derwyn shouted.

The Iceni gasped. Echoed whispers of “’Tis the chief’s torque!”rustled through the tribe.

Rhan lifted her arms. “Now, who among you will tell the chosen of Andraste that she is not fierce enough to lead?”

I looked only at Cadoc as the shield of the Iceni approached. He stopped in front of me and then dropped to one knee and bowed, deeply and respectfully.

“I give you my pledge to follow you into battle, Queen Boudicca,” he said.

Briallen was next. She quickly took one knee and bowed to me. Tears washed freely down her face and with a voice filled with strength she said, “My pledge is yours, my queen!”

Each of the leaders of the warriors followed her and then, like ripples from a stone thrown into a still pool, the Iceni knelt in waves around me, and as they knelt I finally put the heavy golden torque around my neck and bent it into place.

The Druids did not kneel—they knelt only to the gods and goddesses—but Derwyn, Rhan, and the others bowed deeply to me.Even the Trinovantes royalty and their warriors bowed, acknowledging the queen of the Iceni.

“Hail our warrior queen Boudicca!” Cadoc shouted as he stood, and then he stomped his leather-clad foot against the packed ground of the practice field as he began the chant: “Bou-dic-ca! Bou-dic-ca!”

The Iceni took up the chant, stomping against the ground until Tasceni reverberated with my name.

Amidst the tribe’s shouts of acceptance, Briallen approached me and bowed deeply. “My queen, should I tie the body of the Catuvellauni traitor to a horse and return him to his uncle?”

I forced myself to look at the man I had killed where he lay in the middle of a wide pool of scarlet. I swallowed back the bile that rose in my throat and studied him with a queen’s gaze, considering my options as I bent and wiped the bloody dagger on the ground before sliding it back into my leather belt. I straightened and shook my head. “No. Let his body be the first of the traitors we offer to Andraste. Sink him into the mud of the fen. Pour libations of ale and honey over him to make him more palatable to our goddess. Togodumnus will not know that we have found him out. But we have been warned of the depth of Catuvellauni treachery.” I paused and looked at the tall warrior who stood not far from me. “Unless the shield of the Iceni has a wiser, more experienced idea.”

Cadoc smiled at me then. “I do not, my queen. I am in agreement with your wisdom. I, too, would have slit his throat and offered his blood to Andraste with my own hand had Derwyn granted me judgment. You are correct. The Catuvellauni chief knew of this plot. Had he not, Hefeydd would not have been so eager to be ransomed. It is good that now we know of their treachery.”

“Briallen, have two warriors bring libations to the goddess with you and sink the traitor in the fen.”

“As you ask, so will I do, Queen Boudicca.”

Cadoc nodded. “And what is your command for me, my queen?”

“Help the Druids finish preparing the funeral pyre. We will care for our dead. And then you and I will prepare to serve vengeance to the living.”

Chapter XII

With Derwyn’s approval, I ordered everything prepared and the funeral pyre to be lit at dusk, the beginning of Beltane, when the veil between Annwn, the realm of the gods, and Arbred, the world of mortals, is so thin that it is often such an easy thing to slip between the two. On Beltane the Iceni lit many bonfires throughout Tasceni and kept them burning all night long—beacons to guide the spirits of our ancestors home.

In total, ninety-eight people, including my mother, died at the hands of the Romans. Twenty sows, two boars, and ten goats were needlessly butchered by the soldiers. Five horses were trapped and perished in the burning barn. Two more died of their wounds the following day.

I ordered the tenderest flanks of the sows to be divided among the dead and offered on their mass pyre. The bodies of the two horses, as well as the charred bones of the other five, were added to the pyre, too.

I decreed the tribe would continue our tradition of Beltane feasting and revelry—dedicating the night to my mother, who had a special love for that particular festival as it was a favorite of her fiery patron goddess, Brigantia.

Preparation of the pyre and tending of the wounded had to take precedence, so I was unable to hold a formal meeting with Chief Addedomaros, my husband’s old friend, ally, and neighbor. I knew I must not avoid that meeting long, so I invited him and the Chief’s Guard who had accompanied him to stay for Beltane, which he graciously accepted.

Then, as dusk turned the clear spring day to a cool night, all that was left for me to do was to stand witness to the funeral rite Derwynwould lead and then open the feast by lighting the pyre and sending the Iceni dead to Annwn.

Phaedra carefully cleaned my wounds and Adara reapplied the numbing salve. To my fierce Beltane dress I added a green cloak Arianell had embroidered years before with black thread in spirals and knots that formed charging boars. I hadn’t often worn the cloak. She had asked me once, several years ago, why I rarely wore it. I explained to my mother that it was a glorious cloak, perfect for a warrior queen of the Iceni but not the gentle, peaceful wife of a prosperous chief. I remembered how Arianell had smiled knowingly at me that day and said nothing.