Page 97 of Boudicca

“And yet I watched it happen. They drove her back and then turned their gazes to me again before they dropped their heads and approached Paice, whining like puppies.”

“What does that mean?” Abertha asked.

“That they”—Rhan’s gesture took in the thick line of Britons facing us across the battlefield—“are not our enemies. They will turn on the Romans, and Rome will be caught completely unaware.”

“Yet they’re armed and facing uswiththe Romans,” said Cadoc.

Do you not trust me, my Victory?I shivered at the power of Andraste’s words.

“Thank you, Rhan. You may go to my daughters now.” Rhan bowed her head in acknowledgment before she turned and disappeared into the army behind us. “No archers,” I told the waiting warriors. “Start forward. Slowly.”

Addedomaros frowned. “We are not to charge? How will we break their line?”

“The line will break,” I said firmly. “I choose to trust Andraste. Forward. Slowly.”

“And I choose to trust you, Queen Boudicca, though if those warriors do attack us I will not be so trusting in the future,” said Addedomaros.

I lifted my chin and repeated, “Forward at a walk.”

Cadoc let out a long breath but nodded. Slowly, we moved forward, and as we did the line of tribesmen and -women facing us also moved. First they walked, but soon they broke into a jog.

“Hold steady,” I said when Cadoc shot me a worried look. I could see the old shield’s jaw clench and unclench, but he kept moving stoically forward at a walk.

The line of warriors coming toward us began sprinting, running full speed and eating up the ground between us. I clutched my spear and shield, my knuckles white.

I trust you, Andraste. I trust you, Andraste. I trust you, Andraste.

The tension around me was so thick that I could feel it, sticky and cloying. I wanted to shriek the Iceni war cry and shout at Maldwyn to let Ennis and Finley loose, but I held strong. Andraste was asking me to take another leap.

When they were only a few chariot lengths from us, their leader, a tall man with a shock of black hair who wore a wide golden torque around his neck and the bright green colors of Tribe Dobunni, slid to a halt. He lifted his spear and shouted an undulating war cry. As he did so he turned his back to us, and every warrior with him spun around to face the city and the soldiers who waited before it. TheBritons raised their bows and let loose a flurry of arrows that fell on the shocked Romans.

The Dobunni chief whirled around so that he faced us again. He grinned triumphantly and yelled,“Victory!”Then his warriors re-formed their line so that they were standing in columns wide enough apart that our chariots and horses could ride through without trampling them.

“Now, Maldwyn!” I shouted, and he let Ennis and Finley loose. All around me our chariots and cavalry responded, charging forward through the parted warriors as Iceni, Trinovantes, Dobunni, and even Catuvellauni battle cries rang like a carnyx across the field.

The Roman line broke as our chariots bore down on them. They’d expected the Britons to take the brunt of our attack and hadn’t readied the stakes and long spears that might have deflected our charge. We smashed through them and into the city with the screaming Catuvellauni and Dobunni foot soldiers following.

Except for the warriors who had turned on their Roman rulers, the tribes had almost completely deserted Verulamium. The city was a mixture of roundhouses and terraced Roman buildings that appeared to be shop fronts and pubs. The chariots swung through the wide city streets, empty except for pockets of Roman soldiers and a few civilians who scrambled to hide. We set it all afire.

As Maldwyn and I led our chariots on a sweep that brought us back to the entrance of the city, the tribal foot soldiers, led by the Dobunni chief, overwhelmed the Romans with the brutality and ferocity of their attack. The violence was raw. Killing wasn’t enough for them—they obliterated the Romans. Entrails were spilled, limbs were severed, heads were hacked from bodies. The women who had chosen to remain behind with the Romans were dragged from homes, their breasts sliced off and stuffed into their mouths before they were eviscerated.

It was terrible—and I understood it. I saw a reflection of myself in the warriors as they glutted themselves on vengeance.

Were innocents slaughtered that day? Yes. I mourn them.

Freedom is costly.

***

As the day turned to night, the sky began to spit sleet. It did not douse the raging fire that was consuming Verulamium, but it soaked our clothes and chilled us. We made camp west of the city. It was hardly a forest, but at least the stands of lime, birch, and willow provided a little protection from the freezing rain. As at Camulodunum and Londinium, Rhan refused to leave the city until the Roman shades had been guided to their underworld. I did not insult my seer by asking her to forsake her duty to the dead because of the weather. Instead I commanded a tent be raised over her and a fire built to warm her so that she didn’t become a shade herself. What she was doing was honorable, but it was nights like this when I wished my friend had less honor.

All I wanted to do after the battle was to bathe and then lose myself in Maldwyn’s body. Instead my war council crowded around the large fire Wulffaed had burning in the center of a circle she’d made of her caravans. A leather tarp had been stretched above us in the boughs of the lime grove we’d camped in. It kept only some of the sleet from stinging us, but I was grateful for it. My council had grown. Comux, the Dobunni chief who had led the combined Catuvellauni and Dobunni soldiers, joined us with his shield, a young warrior named Seward. There was also a representative there from the Catuvellauni, a grizzled old warrior who strode into our group proudly wearing the earthen-colored cloak of his tribe and a simple golden torque around his neck. His body was heavily tattooed with the Catuvellauni symbols of barley sheaves with crescent moons and hidden faces among intricate knot work. Ignoring the dark looks shot at him by Addedomaros and Adminius, he went directly to me and dropped to one knee.

“Queen Boudicca, I am Leofric of the Catuvellauni. I pledge myself and the two hundred warriors with me to you. Togodumnus is my fool of a cousin. He has whored himself to the Romans.” His eyes met mine. They were such a light blue they appeared almost gray. He grinned. “As I am not a whore, I choose a different allegiance.”

“Stand, Leofric,” I said. “I gladly accept your allegiance.” I heard a snort and my gaze snapped to Adminius, who was sneering at the Catuvellauni warrior. “AnyBriton who wishes to join us against Rome is welcome in our army.” Addedomaros nodded once and then placed a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder. Adminius wrenched away from him and stalked into the night.

“Queen Boudicca,” Comux said, moving into the space in front of me. I realized that I had met the Dobunni chief briefly several Beltanes ago when he and a contingent from his tribe had come to Tasceni to breed their mares with our stallions. He took a knee before me. “The Dobunni gladly pledge allegiance to the Iceni. I have come to understand that there is no freedom to be had in a Roman Britain, only taxation and servitude. I’ve found that I do not make a good servant.”