Page 59 of Boudicca

The lodge erupted in cheers and war cries. I sat, and Wulffaed’s legion of daughters and granddaughters refilled tankards of mead until they overflowed.

***

We left Tasceni shortly after dawn. Rhan and my daughters saw us off. For a moment I struggled against an urge to have Rhan join us, but I knew better. Rhan wasn’t a warrior and we might have to fight our way out of Camulodunum. It was wisest to keep our group small and swift and ready to fight. Rhan would spend all the days leading up to the battle pouring libations and leaving offerings for Andraste.

“Did you remember to bring an offering with you to leave at the Temple of Brigantia?” she asked as I mounted Tân.

“I did. I chose one of Arianell’s necklaces, the gold pendant stamped with Brigantia’s fire,” I assured her, patting the leather satchel I’d slung from my shoulder—the same leather satchel that had once carried the torque Andraste had gifted me, which now rested warm around my neck. “It is what Arianell would want.”

“All will be well.” Rhan spoke softly as she placed her palm briefly on my mare’s neck. Then louder, she said, “We will rejoice at your return, Queen Boudicca.”

“Yes!” said Ceri as she bounced on her toes and waved.

“We will take care of Tasceni while you are gone, Mama,” said Enfys in a very grown-up voice.

I looked back at my daughters, the two faithful wolves at theirsides, and nearby Briallen, who was never far from them. I did not doubt that they truly would take care of the village while I was away.

Camulodunum was a hard day’s ride south, and that was for rested riders on swift, strong horses. It would take our army two days to reach the city. That worried me. The Romans would know we were coming. With the addition of Tribe Trinovantes our numbers had grown to a little over one hundred thousand, and though we had not all gathered at once, it was likely our enemies were at least somewhat aware that the tribes had been in constant movement since spring. Andraste was wise. We needed to know the strength of the legionnaires in Camulodunum. Had they, too, been quietly amassing their forces?

Addedomaros had lived in Camulodunum when it had been the home of Trinovantes royalty. He had sketched maps of the dyke-and-ditch system that had protected the city when he’d occupied it as well as the main gate, which he labeled Balkerne, through which he recommended we enter—though even he admitted that his city hadn’t been well fortified. Had it been, it would not have fallen to the Catuvellauni and their Roman allies. But in the decade since the Trinovantes had called it home, what defenses had the Romans erected? I knew that Roman legions had been stationed there for many years and a large temple had been raised for Claudius by the cult who worshipped the dead emperor they had proclaimed a god. Had a wall been erected? Had the dykes and ditches been fortified with sharpened stakes to thwart a chariot attack? How well was the Balkerne Gate guarded? Soon we would know.

The fall day was crisp and clear. There was a snap of coolness in the air that turned leaves to bright but fleeting yellow and orange and scarlet, yet there was still enough warmth left in the weakening sun that the breeze did not chill us, only kept our sweat cooling as we rode hard and fast into the south.

We had chosen to pose as traders and had left behind Iceni blue and covered our easily recognized sickled-moon symbols. We did not bring a cart, as that would hinder our ability to move swiftly andstealthily. Instead each of us led a pack-laden horse specially chosen for stamina and fleetness.

I rode Tân and led a gelding who was her younger brother. I’d missed the long rides I used to take on Tân before I’d begun my daily chariot training. Even with the hard pace we set, I found myself relaxing and enjoying the freedom of horseback again.

Our pace shifted from canter to trot to walk and back to canter again, and as I settled into the travel routine, I found myself studying Maldwyn, who rode beside me on Ennis, one of the big gray stallions he loved so dearly. Off horseback he was a pleasant-faced man who smiled easily. His body was lean and lithe. We were of the same height—something I appreciated, especially when we trained together. He didn’t talk a lot, but when he did speak, his observations were insightful as, unlike too many people, his silence was a listening one.

Astride a horse, Maldwyn evolved from pleasant faced to beauty in motion. He moved seamlessly with his horse. He held his reins slack; sometimes he dropped them completely so that they lay knotted on Ennis’s neck. Though he would say that he guided the stallion with his legs and his balance, I had come to understand that it was much more than that. Maldwyn was one with the horse. The trust that was between him and his mount was unspoken and unfathomable.

“What is it, my queen?” We’d slowed to walk the horses, making conversation easier.

“I was just envying your connection with Ennis,” I said. “If I dropped Tân’s reins she would probably weave and wander.”

“I think you would be surprised,” he said. “Try it. It will help you connect with your Tân in a new way.”

“Aren’t we riding too hard for that?” Cadoc asked, though with more curiosity than censure in his voice.

“No, it is a good time to practice. Tân will naturally continue with us and it will give Boudicca the opportunity to gain confidence in her ability to guide the mare with her legs.”

Cadoc grunted gruff agreement. “Won’t try it myself,” he grumbled. “The only implement of war I desire to become one with is my sword.”

“Horses are more than war implements.” Maldwyn and I spoke the words together and then laughed.

Cadoc nodded, making his beard bob up and down on his broad chest. “And that is whyyouwill drive our queen’s chariot into war and not me.”

Maldwyn and I shared an amused look before I dropped Tân’s reins and spent the next several hours communicating with her through my legs and how I adjusted my balance. I was surprised at her elegant response. I would have thought that she would pay more attention to me with the reins in my hands than without, but I was wrong. Tân’s ears flitted back to catch every word I whispered to her and soon she was responding to the shifts in my body as well as to the pressure of my legs against her.

At midday we reached Catuvellauni land and the Roman road, and halted near a stream to water the horses and feed them sweet mash while we ate some of the hearty travel food Wulffaed had so carefully packed for us.

I had just washed my face in the cool stream when Cadoc approached with unusual hesitancy. I used my tunic to dry my face while he shifted from one foot to the other.

“You should just say it,” I told him.

“Aye.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “My queen, you must remove your torque.”

My hand went automatically to touch the familiar weight of gold around my neck—the sign of my rank, my power. When I said nothing, he continued, speaking quickly.