Page 74 of Boudicca

Neither woman wept. Their eyes were bright, but with excitement, not tears.

I led us out of the tent. Maldwyn was there in the chariot. He, too, was painted for war, with Iceni moons and the outline of plunging horses on both of his muscular arms. He wore a bronze helmet decorated with the silver-white mane of the two magnificent stallions that pawed impatiently, eager for battle. There was a second chariot in which Cadoc rode. He was the god of war, Belatucadros, incarnate. From his helmet sprouted stag horns. A woad mask had been painted across his eyes, with bold Ogham marks up and down his thickly muscled arms between the tattooed Iceni crescents and stars that had been permanently marked into his skin years before I’d been born.

Abertha’s chariot was beside his. Her beauty was savage. She wore only a short leather tunic that was dyed woad blue. It and her body were painted in coal-colored Ogham symbols. She’d cut her hair short and its tips were dyed blue and spiked. Her bronze helmet was trimmed the same as the rest of the cavalry, in dyed white horsehair. Around her neck she wore a collar made of raven feathers.

Briallen was also in full battle dress. She sat astride a gelding while she held two more riderless horses. I nodded to her and she saluted me.

“Lead us to the front of the army,” I told Cadoc. “Rhan will ride with you. She carries the sigil until she invokes Andraste, and then Maldwyn and I will take it into battle.”

Cadoc’s grin was a baring of his teeth. “As you ask, so will I do, my queen.”

Rhan joined him in his chariot as my girls squeezed in between Maldwyn and me. Sunne and Mona, whose silver-gray coats had been painted with my daughters’ woad-colored handprints, galloped close to the chariot as Maldwyn clucked to the horses. Briallen and Abertha brought up the rear. We followed Cadoc swiftly through the caravans to the army, which parted for us as if we were sunlight spearing through clouds.

Maldwyn drove our chariot out before the army and then turned to face our tribe. Briallen and Abertha waited at the edge of the army with Cadoc, who halted his chariot so Rhan could step down. She carried the sigil she’d made. It was a magnificent sight. She’d prepared a long oak bough, working it smooth until it shined. It was twice herheight, tall and straight. From the top of it hung a large circle made by willow branches. Within that circle was a woad-colored spider’s web of hemp twine that formed the triple Iceni moons. Dangling from leather straps all around the willow circle were the largest of the eagle bones. They clacked in the evening breeze with the dry voices of wraiths. In the very center of the sigil Rhan had woven the skull of the eagle upside down, defeated, dead, useless.

Rhan moved into the space between my chariot and the army. She wore her ovate robe of green and brown, and as she began to dance and chant, her cloak billowed around her. She was beautiful and wild and glorious.

Hu rì o hùo ro—hu rì o hu

Strike, cut, spear thrust straight, straight and true.

E ho hùo hùo

Brigantia’s fire flow.

Hu rì o hùo ro—hu rì o hu gaol i

Andraste’s promised vengeance fulfilled by thee.

Hu rì o hùo ro—hu rì o hu

Strike, cut, spear thrust straight, straight and true.

The army beat out the rhythm of her song on their shields until the earth shook with the force of our rage and I knew that the goddesses could not help but hear it in Annwn.

Rhan spun and leaped, swayed and stomped her bare feet. Her hair flew around her with her cloak. She was a creature that slipped between Annwn and Arbred. When she finally halted before my chariot, the power of nwyfre, the life force that filled our land and our bodies, crackled in the air like lightning.

Rhan handed me the sigil, and as I raised it, the army went silent. Maldwyn knew what to do. He knelt down in the front of the chariot and clucked softly to Ennis and Finley, and they trotted back and forth across the front line of the warriors, necks bowed, straining against their bits. Beside me Enfys and Ceri stood straight and strong. Their hair streamed behind them, mingling with minelike small flames joining a wildfire. Their wolves kept pace with us. I understood why I saw savage glee in the eyes of my people. We were Iceni and we were magnificent.

I drew a deep breath and spoke to my people.

“Iceni! Today we do not fight as Romans do for land or spoils or riches. We fight for life. We fight for freedom. We fight for the right to live in our land unmolested by those who do not belong here, who do not know our gods, who violate children as they call us barbarians. If fighting for my children makes me a barbarian—if refusing to submit to Rome makes me a barbarian—if honoring Andraste makes me a barbarian—then I say I am a barbarian!”

The army and my daughters roared,“Aye!”

Maldwyn wheeled the chariot around to face the center of the army. I raised the sigil high and lifted my other hand in a fist to the sky as, in a voice amplified by Andraste, I repeated the curse the goddess had promised to fulfill.

The army was completely silent as my curse echoed around us. A single raven croaked from above me. It circled us three times before it landed in the uppermost branches of the closest oak. The setting sun flashed behind it, and I knew it was time. I motioned to Briallen, who galloped to me, leading the spare horses.

“Kill them all, Mama,” said Enfys.

“Yes,” said Ceri. “All of them.”

I kissed each daughter before lifting them onto the backs of the waiting horses. Rhan mounted her horse, Briallen bowed her head to me, and then they were gone, riding fast for the rear of the army, where they would join the caravans that would retreat into the western forest and wait for the battle to end.

Cadoc’s driver maneuvered his chariot beside me. Abertha’s chariot moved up so that she was positioned on my other side. “Is it now, my queen?” Cadoc asked.

“It is,” I said.