Page 80 of Boudicca

Briallen raised the cloth so that it covered his face and said a small prayer to Andraste before we stood.

“You’re bleeding,” she said.

“I have to check on Abertha, then I’ll let Phaedra clean it. Did we lose any more of my guard?”

Her back straightened and her chin lifted. “Not a one, my queen. And the centuria, are they truly all dead? Even Decianus?”

“Truly,” I assured her. “Decianus burned cowering inside the Temple of Claudius.”

“I thought so. I felt the weight of it lift and knew they must be dead,” Briallen said.

“It?” I asked.

“The knowledge that those who violated us and slaughtered our people were walking free, unpunished for their dread crimes. We have been avenged. Arianell has been avenged. My brother has been avenged. Our elders have been avenged. ’Tis a great weight lifted,” she said.

“Yes, it is. Next we march for Londinium, but not until we’ve burned our dead and I’ve taken the girls to witness the remains of the centuria. I would like you and the rest of my guard to join me.”

Briallen bowed her head. “As you ask, so will I do.” She looked up and down my body. “With your permission I’ll be staying here with your bairns till the wounded have been tended, then I’ll help them bathe and tuck them into their pallets. You’ll need time for yourself tonight, my queen.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what she meant. “You have my permission.” Then I headed to the rear of the tent, where Adara had Abertha on a table and was bent over her. “How is she?”

“It’s nothing compared to childbirth, my queen,” said Abertha, though her face was colorless and her voice gravel.

“You haven’t had a child,” said the woman sitting on the other side of the table, clutching her hand.

I grinned at Dreda, another member of my guard, happy to see her there and unwounded. “She hasn’t given birth,” I said. “But I do remember she stood guard the night Ceri was born.”

“Aye.” Abertha sucked in a breath as Adara pierced her skin with a slim bone needle and continued to sew closed the long laceration that crossed her ribs. “I’ll never forget the sounds my queen made that night, and until I growl like a wild beast as she did, I’ll know my painisn’t that bad.” The last words she said were clipped and she closed her eyes tightly.

Dreda lifted a damp cloth and wiped the sweat from Abertha’s face. “Hush, love. Adara is almost finished.”

The Druid healer placed two more stitches and then straightened, rolling her shoulders. “Dreda, spread the healing salve on the wound and bandage it. Give her plenty of the tea for pain and you’ll be able to move her to your tent for the night. She can travel in another day, but only in one of the carts.”

Abertha scowled, but before she could protest I said, “My spear master will do as you say, Adara.”

“Good. Now, let me look at your wound.”

Before Adara could lead me away, Abertha spoke. “Thank you for my life, Queen Boudicca.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I hadn’t saved anyone’s life before. So I simply spoke the truth. “I’m glad I was there.”

“As am I,” said Dreda. Her eyes were filled with tears that fell down her cheeks as she bowed to me.

And then I had to stifle a painful gasp as Adara poked and prodded my wound.

“It does not need to be sewn,” the Druid said. “But must be cleaned thoroughly and bandaged. And you must be cleaned thoroughly as well. We are almost finished here. Phaedra can go with you to your tent and be sure the wound is cleaned and dressed after you’ve bathed.”

“I don’t want to take her from you,” I said.

“Then send her back when she is done. I can make use of her as we move the wounded to join the rest of the caravans deeper within the forest.”

Adara was all business, completely focused on tending the wounded. I had a new understanding of such focus, and I nodded. “That is what I will do. Thank you, Adara.”

She nodded briefly, called, “Phaedra, tend to the queen in her tent,” and turned to the next wounded soldier, who wore the red of Tribe Trinovantes.

Phaedra hurried up to me. She carried a basket filled with stripsof clean cloth, a jar of salve, and several bundles of herbs. I said goodbye to my girls, who were already helping Adara with the wounded Trinovantes tribesman. Their wolves lay out of the way but not far from them, their yellow gazes rarely leaving my daughters.

We left the tent, and the cool of the night made me shiver. The wind blew from the east, and the scent of smoke and burning flesh almost made me gag. I was relieved when Phaedra led me to a line of fresh horses tethered behind the tent. We mounted and rode silently into the forest, winding slowly around huge oaks and mossy boulders, heading deep into the dense woodlands. I could feel my heartbeat returning to its normal rhythm, and as we reached the encampment the first wave of weariness washed over me. My wounded arm ached. My other arm felt as if it had turned to stone. My mouth tasted terrible and was gritty, like I’d eaten sand. I wanted to slouch down and let my head loll, but then I heard the first voice murmur,“Victory.”