Page 36 of Boudicca

The three fires suddenly crackled as one, sending sparks into the misty night sky. Like fireflies, they reflected in Rhan’s eyes as she said, “As you ask, so will I do.”

When we looked back down at her feet, the little hare had disappeared.

Chapter XIV

I woke early the next morning, and for an instant the familiar sounds and scents of my lodge being readied for the day lulled me into the belief that nothing had changed—that my mother and Dafina were just on the other side of the reed wall that sectioned off my bedchamber, readying the lodge for another busy day.

Then a small, warm body stirred beside me while from my other side soft snores made sleepy, rhythmic music. I jolted fully awake and remembered everything.

Gently, I disentangled myself from my girls. I had to step over Briallen, who was sleeping on what had been Dafina’s pallet at the foot of Arianell’s bed. As I did, the warrior woke. I pressed my finger against my lips and motioned for her to stay where she was. I could see she wanted to argue, but I shook my head and made a firm staying gesture with my hand as I whispered, “Sleep. The girls will want you close when they wake.” Unspoken was the fact that Briallen’s injuries also needed sleep to heal, and I wanted her whole and at my side as soon as possible.

Reluctantly, Briallen nodded. Her eyes were already closing as I crept from what had been my mother’s bedchamber out into the main part of the lodge, which was quietly buzzing with activity.

Phaedra saw me and told one of the other servants, “Begin pouring the queen’s bath. Remember to scent it with the lavender and goat’s milk she prefers.” As the servant hurried to the already steaming cauldron that hung over one of the several cooking fires, Phaedra came to me and bowed. “Good morn, my queen. It is not quite dawn. You have time to bathe and break your fast before Addedomaros comes to take his leave of you. I have put out your blue and green plaid tunic, the one decorated with silver thread. Is that to your liking?”

“Yes, Phaedra.” Then, before my servant rushed away to gather brushes and sponges, as well as salve for my back, I touched her arm, halting her. “You have done well this morning, Phaedra.”

Her ivory cheeks flushed pink and she dropped her head in another bow as she averted her gaze. “Dafina usually directs the readying of the lodge for the day. I—I did not mean to overstep, but there are so few of us left, and...” Her voice faded as she wiped tears from her cheeks.

I lifted her chin gently. “Dafina would be proud of you, as would Arianell. As am I.” I raised my voice so that the other servants heard. There were so few of them—only six, four women and two young men. From the list of those killed by the Romans I picked out the names of the other six servants, those who hadn’t escaped into the forest. They had been decades older than Phaedra.

“They will be missed,” I said softly as I slid into the copper bath. I made a mental note to put out the word that the queen’s lodge needed servants.

“They will be, my queen.” Phaedra’s voice was laced with anger. “But the Romans will not dishearten us. We want you to know that. We will survive and thrive once again.”

I met her gaze. “And get vengeance.”

“Yes, my queen.”

“While I bathe, send messages to Cadoc, Abertha, and Maldwyn, as well as Derwyn and Rhan. I call them to a war council. Make ready the lodge. I would have the Trinovantes know the Iceni have not been broken.”

Her eyes glittered. “As you ask, so will I do.”

***

I ate hastily as Phaedra smeared salve over my healing wounds, helped me dress, and then brushed out my hair. I made the decision to leave the bulk of it unbraided, though I did have her plait raven feathers throughout it. Using the woad-colored paste, I painted my face, touched the thick torque that rested heavily around my neck, and spoke a quick prayer to Andraste. “Goddess, let me continue to doyour will. I am your Victory.” Then I parted the pelt curtain to my chamber and strode out into my lodge.

Phaedra had relayed my orders to make ready for a war council. Before the center fire of the lodge was a large square dais made of gleaming oak carved with Andraste’s familiars—ravens, hares, and boars—in intricate knot work around the base. On the dais was the massive chair Prasutagus had commanded be carved from the same oak and also decorated with symbols of our goddess. As I took my seat in the chair I was glad for my height and the broadness of my shoulders so that I wouldn’t appear a child usurping the throne of her elders. To my right on the dais were three smaller chairs, one for each of my lead warriors. To my left I’d had Phaedra add two additional chairs so that Derwyn and Rhan could join me.

“Open the doors to the lodge,” I commanded.

Cadoc was the first to enter. I met his gaze and motioned surreptitiously to the chairs to my right. The seasoned shield led Abertha and Maldwyn up to the dais. He sat in the chair nearest me as the other two lead warriors took the remaining seats.

“Derwyn, Rhan, it would please me if you would lend your wisdom to my war council,” I said as I gestured to the chairs on my left.

Derwyn’s brows rose, but he and Rhan joined me on the dais. Many Iceni warriors followed the Druids into the lodge as word that I had called a war council spread throughout Tasceni. I’d known it would, and I’d known my people would come, curious to see how their peaceable queen would, or would not, lead. Lastly, Addedomaros; his shield, Mailcun; and the half dozen warriors the Trinovantes chief had brought with him to Tasceni entered. The Iceni parted, letting them approach the dais.

Addedomaros had come to be chief of Tribe Trinovantes before his sixteenth nameday, immediately after his father had been killed in a hunting accident. He was older than Prasutagus, but not by much. He was not as tall as me, but what he lacked in height he made up for with thick cords of muscles that had always reminded me of a bull. His hair was the same color as Rhan’s, moonlight blond, but insteadof her dark eyes, his were faded blue green, as if they couldn’t decide between the two colors and chose instead to be a tepid mix of both. He held himself like a chief—shoulders back, chin high, gaze steady. It was rumored that he was still virile and had several lovers, though after Rhan’s mother died birthing their only son he had not remarried. To me Addedomaros would always be a father figure, as he had stood in for my beloved father during the five years I fostered in his household. His voice was a deep, pleasing rumble.

Addedomaros nodded respectfully to me. “Good dawning to you, Queen Boudicca,” he said formally.

“And to you as well, Chief Addedomaros.”

“We thank you for your Beltane hospitality and wish our visit had been in happier times,” said the chief. “Now we must return to our own lodge and our own people.”

“The sadness here was not of your making, old friend.” Had Prasutagus been there, he would have talked of crops and horses, trade goods and the spring games. But my husband was dead and I had no patience for pleasantries. I met the chief’s gaze steadily. “Tribe Trinovantes has long been allied with the Iceni, longer even than you were allied with the Brigantes, from whom I came to you as a child and fostered as a second daughter.”

Addedomaros nodded. “I remember your fostering well.” His gaze went to his daughter and his eyes softened. “You and my daughter were inseparable.”