Page 34 of Boudicca

“Might I see it?” I held out my hand.

“Of course.” The old warrior handed the little owl to his chief, who passed it to me.

The lodge watched me study the figure, and as I did I heard my mother’s ancient servant’s voice so clearly that she could have been standing behind me, as she had always stood close to Arianell. My lips lifted, and when I looked up and spoke I knew my smile had reached my eyes. “You know what Dafina would say?” I didn’t wait for an answer but continued, doing my best to mimic the old woman’s voice. “‘Could you not have made it bigger for my lady?’” I raised one brow and looked at Mailcun.

Caught off guard, Mailcun barked a laugh, which he quickly stifled. I shook my head and spoke warmly to him. “No, do not silence your laughter. Arianell loved the sound of it, and my mother most certainly would be teasing you along with her Dafina.” I turned my gaze to my people, allowing it to linger here and there as one and then another and another met my eyes. “We cannot be bowed by the deaths of our elders. That does not honor them.” I looked down my table to Cadoc. “Iceni shield, what wouldyourwise mother say of this somber feast?”

Cadoc had been slumped over his mostly uneaten plate. He straightened, and a hint of a smile played across his wide, expressive mouth. “She would cuff the back of my head and remind me that Beltane is a night of joy and revels. She would say wasted happiness is wasted life.” He nodded, and his thick silver beard bobbed up and down on his chest. “Aye, and were she here she would be cackling happily with the queen mother about the diminutive size of Mailcun’s...” He paused, and his clear gaze went to the Trinovantes shield, looking his bearlike body up and down, before he finished suggestively, “Owl.”

This time several people laughed, and I felt the grief in the lodge begin to ease. It did not release its hold on my people—that would not happen so easily or quickly—but it was suddenly not so difficult to breathe.

I stood and raised my untouched mug of ale. “To Arianell!”

Mailcun raised his mug so quickly ale sloshed onto the table. Though his eyes were bright with unshed tears, his deep voice boomed. “To Arianell!”

The lodge joined him, raising their mugs and drinking deeply. When I sat, Cadoc stood. He bowed to me and then began recounting a story of how early this spring his mother, who had been a surprisingly tiny woman, had discovered an eagle diving on her beloved hens. The raptor’s wingspan had been wider than the old woman was tall, but she hadn’t hesitated. She’d grabbed a broom and begun beating the huge creature until it squawked in fear and took to the sky, leaving her hens in peace ever after.

Laughter replaced silence. Servants refilled mugs and others stood to share stories of their loved ones. Soon the lodge echoed with laughter and remembrance and life—and I felt just a little of the weight that had been pressing down on me lift.

“Well done, Queen Boudicca,” Derwyn said, bowing his head ever so slightly to me. “Well done.”

***

After the ale and tales of our lost loved ones began to flow, it was a simple thing for me to slip from my lodge. It was still raining, though gently—more mist than drops. The fires that burned brightly throughout Tasceni created halos of light, within which I was pleased to see couples dancing to the rhythmic music of drums and flutes and lyres. It was not, of course, as exuberant and passionate as Beltanes past, but once the gloom had been lifted from my lodge, the rest of the village seemed to breathe a long sigh of relief, as if they had been given permission to live again.

I skirted the edge of the many rings of light as I made my way through Tasceni, my feet carrying me toward the still-burning pyre. I was grateful that the damp breeze blew steadily across the fens inland, taking with it the smoke and stench from the pyre. I’m not sure what I meant to do. Perhaps see if my mother or her goddess would send me another sign. Or maybe I simply meant to be as near to her mortal remains as I could be until her ashes, and that of the other fallen Iceni,were gathered and taken to the Chief’s Barrow, where they would be entombed with Prasutagus. But as I drew close to the field that held the glowing pyre and the Druids who stood watch around it, my steps faltered, and the heaviness in my soul that had briefly lifted pressed upon me again.

I changed direction and made for what was left of our stables. They still smoldered, but our herd, strong and proud and so recently returned from the spring games with the Trinovantes, were corralled a safe distance from the ruins. Three fires had been lit in a triangle before the corral, and the leaping flames drew me as surely as the comforting scent of horseflesh.

Two young stable hands fed the flames. When they noticed me they immediately stood, bowed, and shuffled their feet nervously. “Queen Boudicca!”

“Be at ease,” I said, smiling at the boys. “Have you feasted?”

“Not yet, my queen,” said the taller of the two. As he spoke I recognized him and the other boy as my horse master Maldwyn’s younger brothers. “Maldwyn said we should tend the fires until he sent someone to take our place.”

Even in the misty rain and flickering light of the bonfires, I could see that both boys’ faces were grim and tearstained. From the list within my mind of those elders lost, I found the name Gwladus, Maldwyn’s gregarious and ancient grandmother.

“You are relieved,” I said. “Go to my lodge, where you will find your brother, with whom you may feast and share stories of your beloved grandmother.”

“Thank you, my queen,” the boys said together as they bowed again, and then disappeared into the gloom.

I breathed out a long sigh and made my way the short distance to the corral. As I came to the wooden fence, my favorite mare, Tân, named for her fiery red coat, greeted me with a low nicker. I stroked her sleek neck and whispered a prayer of thanks to Epona that she had been safely with the warriors in the Trinovantes camp instead of Tasceni. Tân lipped my cheek, which made me smile.

“I knew I would find you here.”

I did not turn, though my smile remained. “Mind reading again?”

Rhan moved into the space beside me. “More remembrance than mind reading. Horses have comforted you since you were a girl, and I knew you would need comfort tonight.”

I felt a little jolt of surprise as a long-buried memory surfaced. It had been the first night of my fostering with Tribe Trinovantes. At just twelve years old, I had used up all of my bravery as I watched my father and mother ride away with the rest of my escort, leaving me with strangers. Five years had seemed a lifetime, and by dark I was homesick and unable to hide my tears, so I escaped to the stables and found solace sobbing in the warm neck of a friendly mare.

Rhan had found me there. She’d brought a mug of beer, which we’d shared, and hadn’t mentioned my tears but instead had talked of her excitement at having me as a sister and of the adventures she’d planned for us. Our friendship had begun that night.

“I remember,” I said, still stroking Tân’s neck. “You were very kind to me that night.”

“You would have done the same for me had I fostered with your family.” She moved up beside me and smoothed Tân’s mane.

Tân blew against my cheek and then went back to drowsing. I turned to face my childhood friend and leaned against the fence. The firelight touched Rhan’s large, dark eyes, making them look like deep pools with a depth of secrets just below their surface.