Page 77 of Boudicca

The burning city lit the night as we raced north. Once again I was framed between Cadoc and Abertha as our chariots sped forward. We were covered in sweat and soot, blood and dirt. Our horses were the things of nightmares, gore-spattered and singed but eager for more. We pounded up the Romans’ road. I had time to think how ironic it was that their carefully paved stones were aiding us to bring death to them much quicker than if we’d had to traverse a dirt path at night.

Our chariots roared like wild beasts as we bore down on the two hundred Romans. When we reached them they had already formed their phalanx—a rectangle of soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, interlocking their long, curved shields. They were like a turtle, tucking up its head and legs. But, like a turtle, all one had to do to defeat it was to expose its underbelly and drive a spear between shell and flesh.

Except for their officer, the centuria were on foot, and as we encircled them I saw how unprepared they were. They had no long spears to hold steady within their turtle shell while they pierced the flesh of our brave horses. They stood their ground with only shorter pilums and swords.

Cadoc ordered the archers to fire, which they did, round after round. The phalanx became smaller, tighter, after each volley of arrows.

“Set them aflame,” I told Cadoc.

He called a second command and fire was added to the deadly arrow tips, and the phalanx finally broke. I shouted the undulating Iceni war cry. Ennis and Finley galloped into the confusing mass of shields and men and fire.

I pointed at the officer, still astride his horse, fighting in themiddle of the dying Romans. I recognized him as one of the men who had jeered at Briallen and dragged her away. “Take me to him.”

“Aye!” Maldwyn said through gritted teeth.

Our chariot plowed through them, its spiked wheels slicing men’s legs while our battle-trained horses used their teeth and the terrible force of their bodies to clear our path.

I knew the moment the officer recognized me. His expression went slack with shock and then he turned his horse and spurred it through his soldiers as he attempted to flee.

Beside me Maldwyn’s laughter was dark with savage joy as we gave chase. The officer reined his horse off the road, hurtling into the darkness of the surrounding land. Maldwyn followed, and I thought for a moment we would lose him as he wove through the trees at a run, but just as he was pulling away from us, his horse went down with a terrible shriek, its leg snapped by a hole made by a hare.

I smiled, knowing Andraste’s hand was in this.

The Roman leaped free of the struggling horse, drew his sword, and faced us. I hurled my spear, driving it deeply into his gut. The officer was lifted off his feet and thrown back by the force of the blow, landing with my spear pinning him to the ground.

“Care for the horse,” I told Maldwyn. “While I put an end to him.”

Maldwyn pulled Ennis and Finley up beside the broken animal. I jumped out of the chariot and strode to the officer. He was holding the end of the spear that protruded from his belly with both hands. Blood soaked the mossy ground around him, darkening it to black. His face was white, though scarlet rivulets dripped from his mouth to stain his cheeks and neck.

I stood over him and felt nothing but satisfaction.

“What are you? A demon?” He coughed blood and gagged before he continued. “A dark goddess?”

“Neither. You may call me Victory.” I sliced through his neck with my sword, wiped my blade on the moss not tainted by his blood, and turned my back on him.

Maldwyn ended the horse’s pain and then we returned to the battle. The phalanx had been completely destroyed by the time we reached it. Pockets of Romans still fought back to back, but they were swiftly being cut down. I lifted another spear, ready to rejoin the fight. To my right I heard a familiar voice scream,“NO!”A Roman had come at Abertha’s chariot from the rear. His spear had skewered Abertha’s driver, causing their team to bolt from the road in panic when he’d fallen forward, onto their traces. The chariot tilted and fell on its side, throwing Abertha to the ground with such force that she lost her sword and shield. The Roman ran toward her, his sword raised.

“Go!” I shouted to Maldwyn, but he had already cued our team. We raced toward Abertha.

The spear master got to her feet. She held one arm close to her side. The other she lifted defensively as the Roman came at her.

I raised my spear and cursed. We were still too far away for me to throw true. Helplessly, I watched as the Roman struck. Abertha pivoted and kicked at the back of his leg, knocking him off balance, so that his blade did not disembowel her but sliced across her ribs, cutting through her leather tunic. She went down on one knee. The Roman whirled around, lifting his sword for the killing blow. I shouted my fury and let loose the spear—and it pierced his ear, driving through his head so that he fell in a gush of blood and gore.

I leaped from the chariot and ran to Abertha. She was struggling to sit. Her left arm was useless. It hung at a strange angle limply from her shoulder. Blood oozed down her torso.

“You cannot die!” I shouted at her.

Her gaze found mine and she grinned. “Do not worry, my queen. I cannot be killed by one little Roman.” Then her eyes rolled to show only white and she went limp, slumping against the ground.

Around us the battle was over. My warriors were wading their way through the piles of shields and men, using swords and spears to make certain every one of them was dead. And suddenly Abertha’s words seemed funny and a little laugh bubbled from my lips.

Cadoc rushed up with Maldwyn. “Is she...?” asked the old soldier.

I realized my laughter was edged with hysteria, so I pressed my lips together and forced myself to breathe deeply. When I opened them again to speak I was relieved only words spilled out. “She lives. The wound is not mortal. I believe it’s pain from her shoulder that made her lose consciousness.”

Cadoc dropped to his knees to inspect her wounds. He grunted. “Dislocated. I can fix that, but then she needs to get to the caravans so that cut can be washed and sewn. Hold her, Maldwyn.”

It only took a moment, but the sound of Abertha’s shoulder being forced back into place would stay with me a long time. She regained consciousness shortly thereafter, cursing the Romans, the panicked horses, and even her lost shield and spear. Cadoc helped her into his chariot. He led our warriors back while Maldwyn moved our team slowly through the centuria. I had him halt in the middle of them.