Page 31 of Boudicca

I fingered the cloak and whispered, “You knew, didn’t you? You always knew someday I would have to be fierce enough to wear it.”

Phaedra stepped back, admiring me. “You look magnificent. I know it is tradition to braid and dress your hair, but I like that you decided to leave it unbound. It is somehow fitting.”

I responded with the simple truth. “It is free; that is why it is fitting.”

The pelt door rustled and Rhan stepped within. A smile lit her entire face, as it used to when we were youths. I thought she looked like a girl again, impishly mischievous and eager for adventure. But it was the mature seer who spoke, though the smile remained in her dark eyes.

“The Iceni are ready. They await their queen.”

“What of my daughters?”

Rhan’s expression sobered. “They dressed and allowed the attendants to braid their hair, but they are still in much pain—in their minds as well as their bodies. I have heard Ceri say that she cannot bear to go to the warriors’ practice grounds again.”

I nodded slowly. The weight of my daughters’ distress pressed down upon me. “I will speak with Adara and with them. Perhaps I should not force them to do anything that frightens them until their bodies are stronger. Please, come with me, my friend.” Rhan followed as I headed to my mother’s spacious rooms, which my daughters had claimed as their own.

The wounded had been moved to neighboring huts and the lodge transformed from a place of death and sadness to something much more familiar—the site of an upcoming feast. Long trestle tables laden with clay pitchers of beer and ale, as well as great plates filled with bread and others with wheels of rich cheese, stretched from wall to wall. On every table were bouquets of spring lavender and lilac, as well as sprigs of fragrant apple and lime blossoms. All around the lodge, those tending the cooking fires had been busy grilling spitted pork and goat, and the succulent aromas permeated the daub-and-wattle walls and the elaborate tapestries that decorated them.

I nodded approval to the cooks and servers, who paused in their last-minute touches to bow to me.

Briallen intercepted me halfway to Mother’s chamber. The warrior’s face was purple and yellow with bruises, but a sliver of blue peeked through her swollen lid and I was relieved to see that there were no bloody spots on her tunic from wounds breaking open or seeping.

Briallen cleared her throat and said, “My queen, I’ve been speaking with your daughters.”

“Yes, I know they’re frightened. I was just going to check with the healer before I went to them.”

The warrior clasped her hands behind her back and looked down at her leather sandals. “I have done something. Forgive me if I overreached.”

Curiosity piqued, I asked, “What have you done?”

“I hope I’ve made your bairns feel safe again.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“’Tis easier to show than tell. Will you trust me, my queen?”

I answered with no hesitation. “With my life.”

“Aye, well then. With your permission I will get the girls.”

I glanced at Rhan, who caught my eye and gave a slight nod. “All right.”

Briallen led the way to Arianell’s chamber. She swept aside the thick tapestry door. Enfys and Ceri sat on the edge of their grandmother’s large bed pallet. They stood as I entered, holding hands and looking pale and nervous.

The Druid nodded respectfully to me. “Queen Boudicca, your daughters are healing well.”

I smiled at my girls. “And they look lovely in the dresses Mother stitched for them.” Arianell had decorated the matching green dresses with blue stitching that had spirals of baby animals, flowers, and birds frolicking all along their hems and bodices. I remembered watching Mother bend over the clothes as she lovingly embroidered them. The memory caused my breath to hitch.Will I ever be able to think of my mother without it causing such sharp, terrible grief?

Enfys’s chin shook as she spoke, but she did not cry. “Mama, I do not want to see Nain’s pyre.”

“I know, love, but your nain is dead and we must witness her funeral rites and then send her off to Annwn with our people. This is what she would want.”

“It is very hard,” said my eldest child.

“It is,” I agreed. “But it is also something we must do for her because of how much we love her.”

Ceri spoke suddenly. Her voice trembled and sounded as wan and fragile as she looked. “Mama, I-I do not think I can go there. B-back to that p-place.”

Before I could formulate a reply Briallen stepped forward and knelt in front of the girls. She repeated the question she had so recently asked me. “Do you trust me?”