Page 33 of Boudicca

The Druids disappeared silently into the circles surrounding the pyre as Derwyn turned and called to the shield of the Iceni.

“Cadoc, it is now!”

“Bows!” Cadoc shouted.

From all around the circle, Iceni warriors, dressed in their finest clothes and jewels, took a step forward. They each held a longbow and one arrow, notched and ready to fire. Their flint tips were wrapped in lard-soaked cloth.

Then the aged warrior went to me. Cadoc bowed deeply, respectfully, before handing me a longbow and another prepared arrow.

“They await you, Queen Boudicca.”

I fitted the arrow and then nodded at Derwyn, who touched his torch to the arrowhead, igniting it. All around the circle, Iceni holding torches stepped forward to light the arrows of the warriors.I steeled myself against the pain in my back and drew the bow along with a deep breath. I aimed up into the charcoal sky, sighted, and held my breath. I released my breath and the arrow together. All around me the twangs of many arrows sizzled through the night as flaming brands lifted to the sky after mine, hesitated, and then, as if called back by their fallen tribesmen and -women, they rushed to earth, embedding in the tinderbox that was the pyre.

I stood there as long as I could bear it. Heat eddies lifted my mass of hair and curled my cloak. Later the tribe whispered that their queen had seemed to be Andraste herself standing fierce and immortal before the roaring pyre, but that night I did not feel fierce or immortal. I was an orphan who longed for something I would not know again in this lifetime—my mother’s touch. I would never hear her voice again. I would never see her smile again. She would never comfort me or share her wisdom with me again. I stood there, as close to her as possible, as her pyre dried the tears that washed my face.

I did not want to look away from Arianell, who was illuminated by the licking flames. I wished so badly for one last touch, one last word.

And as I wept and squinted against the brightness of the fire, I was rewarded. The smoke that curled up from the center of the pyre, thick and grayish white, danced and flowed over and around itself until it took the shape of a mighty hart, whose face was as familiar to me as my mother’s.

My tears did little to protect me from the heat. Just as Rhan took my arm and whispered, “Boudicca, you must come away now,” the sky above us opened and a gentle rain began to fall as the night wept with the Iceni.

Chapter XIII

Pride in my people carried me through the rest of that long night. The eve of May is usually filled with feasting and passion and remembrance. Young women dress their hair with wreaths of ivy and flowers. It is a celebration of the fertility of the growing season—a magickal night from which many handfasts and babies result.

I had always loved the lighting of the tribal bonfires that illuminated Tasceni in jewellike gold and orange so that it seemed otherworldly. It was easy to imagine the spirits of our ancestors dancing among the flickering shadows as they rejoined their living tribe for a night of revels.

Not this Beltane.

As I sat in the center of the raised queen’s table in my lodge and presided over our subdued feast, I felt the absence of my husband and mother as a constant ache deep in my bones. To my right, in the place of honor, was Derwyn. To my left sat Addedomaros, chief of Tribe Trinovantes. Stretched along the queen’s table were my lead warriors, as well as Addedomaros’s shield, Mailcun, who I had long thought resembled a large brown bear.

As if my thoughts drew his gaze, Mailcun’s eyes met mine. I glimpsed a deep sadness there and remembered that he and Arianell had been friends. They had carried on a flirtation over the many years since my father’s death; he had often brought her gifts when our two tribes met, small animals carved from wood that made my mother smile. He dipped his head respectfully to me and returned to pushing the food around his plate. It was then that I noticed the little wooden owl he’d placed beside his goblet of untouched ale. The owl, like the white stag, was beloved of my mother’s goddess, Brigantia. The sightof that ungiven gift pulled me from my fog of grief so that my gaze traveled around my lodge and I saw my people through clearer eyes.

My daughters had retreated to bed. Briallen stood unmoving just outside their pelt door. Every table was filled, though at each was at least one plate that had been piled high with choice cuts of meat sprinkled generously with salt and spice and left untouched. Each Beltane, plates were offered to our ancestors while living Iceni feasted and drank, laughed and loved. Tonight there was no laughter. The tribe’s voices were muffled, their eyes dull, their shoulders slumped.

I turned to Derwyn. “They mourn,” I said softly.

“You must help them.” His voice, like mine, was pitched not to carry.

I felt the weight of his words press down on me as my gaze swept across the lodge. “How can I? I mourn, too.”

“Queens do not have the luxury of mourning. If the Iceni fall into despair, your curse will not be fulfilled. Your tribe will splinter and, like tinder, quickly burn out.”

My gaze snapped to his as my rage, which had cooled after the lighting of the pyre, sparked and took flame again. Under my breath, I almost spit the words at the Druid. “I am not just a queen. I am a widow. I am an orphan. I am—”

Derwyn lifted his hand and touched the golden torque that encircled my neck. As his fingers met the twisted gold, heat spread from it through my body, cutting off my words.

Slowly, distinctly, Derwyn said, “You are Victory, named by Andraste. That is, indeed, more than just a queen.”

Victory...

The goddess’s voice lifted from my veins and echoed through my marrow.You have a choice to make that will shape your future as well as your tribe’s.

I made my choice. I survived. I will not let it be all for naught.

“Mailcun, shield of the Trinovantes, I see you brought a gift for my mother.” I raised my voice, making sure that it carried throughout the somber lodge.

Mailcun’s surprised gaze lifted to mine. “I did, Queen Boudicca.”