Page 7 of Boudicca

The goddess went to the cauldron. She beckoned me to come closer. Beside Andraste, I gazed down into the cauldron, which was completely empty. “Look with more than your eyes.” Andraste passed her spear over the cauldron. Immediately, it filled with black water that began to spiral, like a mini-whirlpool. “Stare into the center of the maelstrom.”

I peered down... down... down into the liquid. I lost all sense of my body. The goddess, the stream, even the rabbits and ravens disappeared as my spirit was transported to the rainy morning many months ago when the high Druid, Derwyn, had blessed and then presided over the ritualistic loosing of a white hare—a creature sacred to Andraste. My spirit hovered above the gathering as I looked down upon my powerful husband. He was so full of life that I wanted to weep, but I was there to serve as witness to something the goddess wanted me to see.

Prasutagus took the small hare from Derwyn and whispered to it the question he had for his goddess Andraste, patroness of the Iceni. Then, as the tribe looked on, Prasutagus released the hare.

I had been there, standing beside our young daughters on the grounds where Iceni warriors daily practiced their skills. I remembered that I had been close enough to the hare that I’d heard its terrible last shriek and saw the blood that had gushed from the little creature’s mouth after it collapsed. But as the goddess had commanded, I watched again, this time knowing that my husband’s question had not been about his own death, but about whether or not the Iceni should sign the treaty with Rome.

The hare had rushed from the Iceni chief’s hands. It did not sprint into the nearby forest, or even return to the hutch where she and the rest of the sacred hares had been born and lovingly raised. The creature ran hysterically in one, two, three circles around Prasutagus before dying.

From above the scene my gaze went to my husband. That day no one, including me, had been watching him. Even the Druid was focused on the strange sight of the dead hare. But the goddess had not sent my spirit there to study the doomed hare; I watched Prasutagus.His wide shoulders slumped and he sighed. But then he lifted his chin and shook his head, as if in disagreement with someone close by.

The scene changed abruptly and the whirling cauldron water took me forward in time a fortnight. This familiar day was clear. I had joined Prasutagus and the other warriors on the practice grounds near the edge of the forest. I watched myself trade blows with Bryn and Briallen, and had just knocked Bryn off his feet when the croaking of a raven drew everyone’s attention upward. The huge black bird had perched in the top branch of the giant oak, the same tree I had greeted just that morning. Prasutagus’s spear had been raised to throw at the straw target erected in the center of the grounds. The chief had paused, and instead of hurling the weapon, he’d bowed deeply with a flourish and shouted.

“Goddess Andraste! May my actions always bring glory to your divine name!”

The warriors joined Prasutagus as he raised his spear to the sky and shrieked the fearsome Iceni war cry.

I remembered well what happened next, so, as with the previous vision, I did not turn my gaze up with the rest of the Iceni when the raven took wing with the chief’s cry. I did not need to see the golden eagle that had seemed to materialize from the cloudless sky. I did not watch it dive and strike the raven, killing it and then dropping it at my husband’s feet.

I observed Prasutagus instead. This time his shoulders did not slump, but his chin did lift again and his jaw set. I recognized the look well. I’d seen it whenever anyone pressed the chief too far and stubborn defiance filled my husband. I’d seen it when I’d spoken to him about my hesitation to ally with the Romans. I’d reminded him Cartimandua of the Brigantes had done so and had since been shunned by the other tribes. He’d said he would give the issue to Andraste, which I thought he’d done. Now I knew otherwise.

A few days after the two omens sent from Andraste, Prasutagus had signed the treaty with Rome.

I felt a dizzying wrench as I returned to my body and blinked away a rush of vertigo, trying desperately not to be ill.

“Drink.” The goddess held the goblet for me and I swallowed the rich mead. But the liquor didn’t fog my head—instead it steadied my resolve.

“Prasutagus lied about his question to you,” I said.

“Yes,” said the goddess.

“He did not heed your warnings.” The words slipped past my cold lips.

“He did not.”

“You did not mean for him to pledge his oath to Rome.”

“I did not.”

I met the goddess’s gaze. Her eyes were as black as the inside of a tomb. “Did you kill him because of that?”

“No. His heart stopped beating. That is what killed him.”

The relief I felt made my skin tingle. “Now what?”

“That is up to you, Queen Boudicca. Today the mistake your husband sowed when he pledged the Iceni to Rome will be harvested.”

Ice filled my veins and I staggered back a step. “I—I must leave! I must return home!”

“Must you? You have a choice to make that will shape your future as well as your tribe’s. Your destiny, my beloved Boudicca, and your people’s are irrevocably woven together.”

My breath was coming fast and I could not hide the trembling in my limbs, though I fisted my hands. “I do not understand my choice! I must return to Tasceni and warn them about Rome.”

Andraste’s eyes were filled with sadness. “I already warned their chief. Your husband did not heed me—just as he would not have heeded you had I compelled you to come to me while he lived. It is too late. You cannot stop the consequence of his choice. You must avoid it, survive it, or die with it.”

“How? Make sense!” I shouted at the goddess, and then pressed my trembling hands against my mouth, terrified I had finally offended Andraste. But the goddess was unperturbed.

“You have three choices. Remain here, unharmed, with me, until I tell you it is safe for you to return to Tasceni. Leave now and join today’s grim harvest. Or decide to survive the harvest, grow strongerbecause of it, and use it to sow new seeds that will mature into a crop of vengeance like this land has never before known.”