Page 70 of Boudicca

“It’s beautiful,” said Enfys. “Thank you, Maldwyn.”

“Yes.” Ceri put the helmet on her head and nodded, making it bob back and forth. “It’s so perfect!”

Enfys turned her somber gaze on me. “I hope this means you will allow us to join you in battle, Mama.”

“Yes, Mama. We have been practicing. We are ready,” added Ceri.

My stomach clenched so tightly that for a moment I couldn’t answer them.

Maldwyn smoothly covered my lack of words with a chuckle as he ruffled the closest wolf’s ears. “Oh, I am quite sure our queen will want you beside her when she speaks to our army, but there isn’t room on our chariot for you during the battle.”

I cleared the fear from my throat and added, “Yes, of course you will be with me before the battle, and then the two of you will be joined by Briallen, protecting my rear while we bring Andraste’s curse to Camulodunum.”

“We will be sure no one gets past us to you, Mama,” said Ceri.

Enfys’s gaze was older, wiser. “I would see the centuria destroyed.” Her voice was flat, emotionless, though her eyes blazed.

I nodded. “And you will.” Enfys held my gaze for several long breaths before she nodded and finally looked away.

“Mama, we need to show Briallen our new helmets,” said Ceri. “Enfys! Let’s go find her.” Ceri darted off with Mona trotting at her side and Enfys and Sunne following closely.

I breathed out a long, shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Maldwyn nodded. “I was not surprised by their request. They are the daughters of Boudicca.”

“Well, I was surprised.” I wiped a hand across my face. “Just the thought of them going into battle fills me with fear.”

“Understandably, but I have watched them over the past six months. Enfys is a strong, tenacious swordswoman. Ceri is too youngto be as strong, but she is fast and fearless. And their wolves never leave their sides. They would kill to protect those girls. They will be safe with Briallen behind the battle lines, and should an enemy break through, they will protect themselves.”

“My head knows that. My heart does not,” I said.

“Perhaps you should speak with Andraste about it,” said Maldwyn.

“Perhaps you are right.” I returned the gleaming bronze helmet to him, knowing that it would join the rest of my battle armor, which I would change into just before I led the armies into Camulodunum. I started to turn away, my mind already in the forest and partway to the shrine of my goddess, but paused. “Thank you for the helmets. I will wear mine with pride.”

“And I will proudly be beside you as we bring vengeance to the Romans.”

I didn’t take the most direct route to Andraste’s shrine. Instead I cut through the pasture area that adjoined the forest. I walked among the horses, letting their presence soothe my nerves. Tân saw me and trotted to join me. I was glad I’d anticipated seeing her and brought an apple with me. She munched it and then walked slowly by my side until I gave her a final caress, and then I climbed over the fence and went into the forest.

This area would normally have been free of everyone except perhaps those Iceni foraging for mushrooms and herbs. Today it was almost as busy as the village, with neat tents and caravans dotting the forest. I pulled the hood of my cloak up and lowered my face, needing solitude to collect my thoughts before speaking to the goddess.

As I approached the area of the forest that held the shrine, I was surprised to hear a rhythmic rattle. The cool breeze brought with it a pungent scent, ripe with decay, and I moved more quickly. Andraste’s shrine was close, and as I jogged down the path that led to it I saw that someone had built a large cook fire before the altar. Held suspended over the blazing fire by large rocks was an iron pot. Even from a distance I could see that the contents steamed and bubbled.

Rhan danced around the fire. She was a wild thing, spattered with blood, blond hair loose and tangled, eyes framed by black—the sameblack of the Ogham symbols tattooed and painted around her neck, down her arms, and across her shoulders. She shook a gourd rattle while she whirled and swayed and chanted around the fire. Every few steps she reached into a leather pouch tied to a mistletoe belt around her slim waist and brought out a handful of something that looked like ash, which she threw into the pot. I slowed to watch her, as always mesmerized by her grace and the tangible sense of magick and power that radiated from her. The browning grass under her bare feet was wet with the libations she had poured, and as I got closer I could smell the fetid scent of old blood and knew those libations had been more than ale and honey and goat’s milk.

There was a long, slotted wooden spoon resting against one of the rocks that ringed her fire. Rhan paused in her dance and chant, put down the gourd rattle, and picked up the spoon. As she began stirring the bubbling concoction in the pot she said, “May the joy of the day be with you, Boudicca.”

My answer was automatic. “And may the blessings of the earth be on you, Rhan.”

She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I am glad you are here.”

“Do I interrupt you?”

“Not at all. I have just finished my dance.” She motioned for me to join her at the cook fire.

I did and looked down into the gray bubbling mess she was stirring. The water smelled of old meat. The whiteness of bone could be seen through the murk as she lifted the long spoon and nodded, speaking more to herself than to me. “Yes. Good. They can come out now.” She began fishing bones out of the bubbling liquid and placing them on the hot rocks that ringed the fire.

“What is all of this?”