Boudicca

Chapter XLII

We spent the rest of the day preparing. We tucked the majority of the caravans into the western slope of the hill, only bringing

a dozen wagons within the valley and situating them well to the rear, positioned so that they could just be seen from the

entrance. Among those dozen caravans, the chiefs and I, with our lead warriors and guards, would spend the night before the

battle. But we did not retreat to our campfires until after we’d walked among our warriors. Morale was high. Army camps become

a living thing, with personalities and emotions. Our camp was restless and eager—a young stallion straining to race the wind.

Of course there were nerves, but Camulodunum, Londinium, and Verulamium had seasoned the bulk of our warriors. They knew what

would be expected of them and were eager for dawn and another victory.

Offering bowls filled with sweets and mead dotted the camp. Bundles of dried herbs were burned and richly scented smoke drifted

with the night breeze. I’d just begun wondering after Rhan when she seemed to materialize from the herb-laden smoke. I smiled

and hooked my arm through hers. She smelled of the forest and of the rosemary smoke through which she’d come. We walked together

slowly without speaking.

Maldwyn had already bid me good night and gone to sleep with Ennis and Finley, as he was wont to do the night before a battle.

I suspected that he got little sleep but spent most of the night checking and rechecking their harnesses, the chariot, and

our weapons.

As usual, Rhan knew the slant of my thoughts. “Maldwyn has gone to be with the horses already?”

“Yes. The chiefs and I are sleeping within the valley. Would you join me?”

Rhan pressed her shoulder into mine. “Always.”

We’d come to the mouth of the valley and turned within. “Enfys and Ceri are insisting on staying in the valley as well,” I

said.

Rhan nodded. “It is only right that they do. I assume they will join you when you speak to the army before the battle tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll drive the chariot. The girls will be with me, and their wolves will run beside the chariot,” I added with a smile.

Rhan laughed softly. “You will be quite the sight. The mighty Queen Boudicca, Andraste’s Victory, her daughters, and the wolves

who watch over them.”

“The warriors do love those wolves,” I said. “Not that they can actually touch them without being in danger of having their

arms taken off.”

Rhan shrugged. “Briallen can touch them. You can. I can. Oh, and Maldwyn, of course, can. No one else needs to.”

“Exactly what I think.” We approached the wagons where my guard, my daughters, and my lead warriors congregated around a large

central fire. Three of Wulffaed’s daughters were singing an old planting song that spoke of new life being sown. Their voices

sounded like home and evoked memories of the fertile fields that surrounded Tasceni.

As Rhan and I approached, Cadoc stood, bowed to me, and motioned for me to take his seat on a rough log. I thanked him and

sat, with Rhan close beside me. Wulffaed’s daughters had begun an Ostara song that celebrated the awakening of the earth as

the goddess arises from her winter sleep when Enfys and Ceri joined me. My daughters sat on the ground in front of me, leaning

back on my legs. Their wolves curled on either side of them, snouts on paws, appearing sleepy, but in truth the firelight

reflected yellow in their ever-watchful eyes. My fingers combed through first Enfys’s and then Ceri’s long hair. My girls

relaxed back against me, filling me with determination.

Tomorrow would not be just another battle. It would decide whether the war would be won or lost. We must win.

***

I fell asleep in Rhan’s arms while she caressed my hair. It seemed I had hardly closed my eyes when Rhan, fully dressed, was

standing beside my pallet gently shaking me awake.

I woke instantly and sat up. “Is it time?”

“It is. Briallen is readying the girls. I have your things here but would ask that you follow me to cleanse yourself,” said

Rhan as she lifted a pile of my battle leathers and a basket from which I caught the sharp scent of body paint.

Wearing only a cloak to cover my nakedness, I followed Rhan outside my tent. It was far enough from dawn that the sky had

just begun to change from black to gray, but our small camp was already humming with activity.

“Take this with you, my queen.” Wulffaed handed Rhan and me meat, hot from the fire, wrapped in fresh bread with a thick slab

of cheese. She bowed deeply to me, which was unusual. Wulffaed usually behaved like an overbearing grandmother, but in the

predawn lightening I could see the somber look in her eyes. I only had two daughters and one more child growing within me.

Wulffaed was the Mother of Twenty, grandmother of uncounted more. In her gaze I saw hope laced with worry. I understood that

look too well.

Impulsively, I pulled the old woman into my arms, hugging her tightly. “Thank you. You brought contentment back to my lodge.

That is a gift I can never repay.”

I released her and she cupped my face between her gnarled hands. “Just live past this battle. That will be payment enough.”

“She will,” Rhan said firmly.

Wulffaed’s whole body relaxed. “Aye, well, if our high Druid says it, then it will be so.”

I slanted a look at Rhan, but she said no more as we chewed our food and walked from the far end of the valley and into the

woods. The incline began with the trees and climbed almost straight up. I followed Rhan as she took a serpentine path that

slithered up the hill, leading us to a fast-moving stream that cascaded down from above.

Rhan placed the basket she’d been carrying near the bank and then turned to me. “I did not sleep. Instead Andraste compelled me to this stream. Annwn is close here.” She gestured across the narrow stream to where two rowan trees stood. They were covered in delicate cream-colored flowers and were so close that their branches wove together to create a living arch.

“Did Andraste mean for me to visit her before the battle?” I asked.

“Has the goddess called you?”

I shook my head. “No. I would still be sleeping had you not awakened me.”

“Then no. But Andraste did compel me to bring you here.” Rhan moved her shoulders restlessly. “I believe she wants you to

cleanse yourself in the stream because it is so near to Annwn. Then I will paint your body and ready you within sight of an

entrance to the Otherworld. But I also feel that there is another reason the goddess wanted you to know this place. She just

hasn’t made that reason known yet.”

I shrugged off my cloak, drew a deep breath, and then stepped into the frigid stream. I ignored the cold and focused on the

rowan arch and the closeness of Annwn as I washed. I want to be worthy of your belief, Andraste. I ask for strength. Not for myself, but for my people. I ask for wisdom, not

for myself, but to lead my people.

I finished cleansing and was about to leave the stream when the gray of predawn changed to a lighter shade of slate, that

of a dove’s feathers, and my gaze was caught by a spot of white on the other side of the stream not far from the rowan arch.

As if of their own volition, my legs carried me out of the stream and up the slight bank. I walked the few feet to the living

arch that was farther up the steep slope. When I reached it a wave of dread washed over me, choking my breath, making me dizzy,

causing me to stumble back as I gasped in horror.

I heard Rhan wade quickly through the stream behind me, but I could not look at her. All I could do was stare at the dead

thing.

“Oh, goddess.” Rhan’s voice was hushed.

“It’s a sacred hare, isn’t it?” I spoke through numbed lips.

Rhan took my cold hand in hers. “Yes, but more than that. It is the sacred hare I loosed in the valley five days ago. See,

there. She has the crescent moon I painted on her chest.”

I nodded and continued to stare. The hare was on its side. The one eye I could see was open and opaque, sightless. Her mouth was open, too, as if frozen midscream. Blood darkened and matted the soft fur around her mouth. But that wasn’t the most horrible thing about the little broken body. Her stomach had been torn open. Her entrails spilled onto the forest floor, and within those entrails was a glistening chain of three small, white things wrapped in scarlet—like a necklace of freshwater pearls that had been dipped in blood.

I clutched Rhan’s hand and swallowed several times before I could speak. “The hare was pregnant.” I somehow choked the words

out.

“Yes,” Rhan said softly.

I finally tore my gaze from the dead hare to look at my best friend, my lover, my high Druid. “This is a very bad omen.”

“It is a dire warning.”

A shudder rocked my body and I turned to face Rhan. “The Romans are too close. Our warriors might be able to scatter into

the forest and escape, but the caravans cannot possibly get away.”

Rhan nodded. “And if the warriors flee the caravans filled with the families of our people will fall to the Romans.”

“Even should I ask them to our warriors would not abandon their families. There is nothing I can do.” As I spoke those words

the weight of them pressed down on me so heavily that I felt rooted to the floor of the forest.

“That is not entirely true,” said Rhan slowly. “Boudicca, I told you I have been preparing.”

“Yes.”

“I have seen that you survive this battle—you, your girls, and the child you carry. But you must be willing to do as I say

when the time comes.” Rhan’s voice had taken on the quality of strength and command it held when she spoke as the high Druid.

“But what does that mean?”

“I do not know yet. Not entirely. Just know I have prepared. I will be by your side. And you and your children will survive,”

Rhan said.

My reluctant gaze went back to the hare. “We cannot make this portent known.”

“Agreed. It would devastate the army.” Her hand cupped my chin and she turned my face from the body so that I saw only her. “Go back into the stream. Do not look at the hare again. Cleanse yourself again. I will care for the creature. Then I will paint you with protective symbols and help you dress. We will return to camp with your head held high, confident and strong.”

“Because that is how it must be.” I nodded shakily. “That is how they must see me.”

“No, my queen.” The high Druid corrected me sharply. “Because that is how it is . You are confident and strong. That is how they do see you, because your people see you truly.”

“Yes,” I whispered as she loosed my hand and I turned my back to the goddess’s dead messenger. “Yes... yes... yes...,”

I continued to whisper as I cleansed myself again. I heard Rhan moving through the underbrush, but I did not look up.

Finally she joined me in the stream, bending to wash her hands and arms thoroughly. We left the water together. I stood silently

as she dried me with my cloak and then Rhan painted my body, naked except for my torque, with Iceni blue, outlining the Ogham

symbols she’d tattooed so many months ago and adding the sickled moons with star points that proclaimed me a warrior of Tribe

Iceni to my arms. As Rhan worked, she hummed a sonorous melody that increased in tempo until it reflected my heartbeat. It

was cold that morning, but I did not notice it. I’d shut myself off from feeling anything. I was no longer Boudicca, daughter

of Arianell, mother to Enfys and Ceri. I was only Boudicca, queen of the Iceni, who prepared to lead her mighty army into

battle.

I dressed in the dyed woad leathers Wulffaed had spent so much time and talent and love creating. They fit like a second skin

and blazed blue, trimmed in silver thread that formed ravens within knots. When I was dressed, we retraced the steep path

back to the camp.

The valley was alive with activity. Our chariots and cavalry had already entered and were spreading out across the wide, flat space, facing the entrance. Behind them the foot soldiers began to stream into the valley, rivers of Iceni blue, Trinovantes red, Catuvellauni brown, and Dobunni green, all mixed with bright splashes of the colors of the many other tribes that had joined us. I let my pride in them fill me, drowning out my dread. I would be their warrior queen to the end.

Phaedra waited within my tent. She combed out my long hair until it crackled and curled below my waist. Then she and Rhan

strapped on my arm and shin guards and my breastplate. My helmet had been polished and looked striking in the flickering candlelight;

the shining bronze complemented the spikes of Tan’s mane and the long red length of her tail that would flow down my back

and mix with my own hair on the battlefield.

Phaedra bowed deeply to me. “My queen.”

I took her elbow so that she straightened and then I kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Phaedra.”

Blinking back tears, Phaedra hurried from the tent, leaving Rhan and me alone. She stepped into my arms and we held each other

silently. Then I looked into her dark, bottomless eyes, which were more familiar to me, more dear to me, than my own.

“I love you,” I said. “I shall always love you.”

“And I you, my friend, my love, my queen.”

We kissed. Tenderly. I buried my face in her hair and breathed in her scent one last time before I straightened, put my helmet

under my arm, lifted my chin, and left the tent.

My daughters waited beside the chariot, which gleamed in the soft pink light of dawn. The sigil Rhan had created before our

first battle was strapped in its place at the front of the chariot, the eagle bones clanking in the morning breeze. Ennis

and Finley thrummed with energy, even as Maldwyn soothed them. Enfys and Ceri looked fierce and beautiful. Wulffaed had dyed

their leathers to match mine. Briallen had painted their faces, necks, and arms. Their hair cascaded free, haloing them in

fire. Someone, probably the girls, had painted Ogham symbols in blue across the flanks of their wolves.

My lead warriors and the other chiefs would already have taken their places at the front of the cavalry and chariots, waiting

for me to take the field. Briallen and my Queen’s Guard stood beside the chariot. They would not enter the field without me.

I went to Wulffaed first. She and ten of her daughters bowed deeply. I lifted Wulffaed and kissed her forehead.

“I command that you and your daughters leave these wagons and this valley. Join the caravans outside.”

“As you ask, so shall I do,” echoed Wulffaed. “But first I have something for you, my queen.” One of her daughters came forward,

smiled shyly at me, and then gave her mother a large folded piece of cloth, which the Mother of Twenty shook out to reveal

a cloak. It was a rainbow of colors woven together so that even in the soft light of dawn it flashed with brightness and beauty.

It was not thick or wide, but a light length of fabric that would fasten around my shoulders and stream behind me without

being so long that it would get in my way during the battle. “It has all the colors of the tribes in it, my queen,” said Wulffaed,

her eyes bright with unshed tears. “All the colors of your people.”

“It is lovely. I shall wear it proudly.” Then I turned and motioned for her to put it on me. It was so light I hardly knew

it was there. “Now go and wait outside the valley,” I said gently. “Be safe. Be well.” Wulffaed and her daughters bowed again

before they hurried away.

I moved to stand before Briallen and my guard. They were dressed and painted for battle. They were glorious. My guard bowed

low. When they straightened, I stood before Briallen.

“Leader of my Queen’s Guard, I task you with protecting my daughters. After I speak to the army, see them safely outside the

valley and remain with them.” I could hear the disappointed sighs of my daughters, but of course I would not be swayed. Their

disappointment I could bear. Their deaths I could not.

“As you ask, so shall I do,” said Briallen. “I have mounts for the bairns waiting on the field. I’ll take them out of the

valley after you speak to the army.”

I put my hands on her strong shoulders. “I know they will be safe with you.” I kissed her forehead.

Maldwyn had two horses ready in addition to Ennis and Finley, who pawed restlessly, more than ready to take to the field and defeat another enemy. He was magnificent in his battle gear. His light blond hair was pulled back and had raven feathers braided into it. His leathers were dyed to match mine, but his had been painted in bold black with our sickled moons and stars pattern. His arms were bare except for his forearm guards and the knotted tattoos that ringed his biceps. Maldwyn’s cornflower eyes shined with the anticipation I recognized from our other battles, which helped to settle my nerves.

He started to bow to me, but I stepped into his arms, pulled him close, and kissed him thoroughly. When I loosed Maldwyn,

his eyes were still shining and his lips lifted in a smile. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. I went to the chariot cart and took

my place as Maldwyn helped my girls up to stand on either side of me. Then he stepped back.

“Ennis and Finley are anxious for battle. Hold them tightly. I will join you on the field, my queen.” He bowed.

I nodded. “I shall meet you there.” Then my gaze found Rhan. She’d led her horse to the two Maldwyn had brought with the chariot

for my daughters. I was surprised to realize it was Tan, and then relieved that Rhan would have such a reliable mount. I tried

to tell Rhan with my eyes how much I loved her, though she knew. She had always known. “High Druid, I shall see you on the

field, too,” I said.

Rhan dipped her head. “Yes, Queen Boudicca.”

Suddenly Abertha galloped into camp, pulling her horse up sharply beside the chariot. Instead of the white-horsehair-trimmed

helmet she usually wore, I was surprised to see that she’d dyed her horsehair bright Iceni blue. She was in full battle regalia

and looked ferocious and ready to take on the world.

“My queen! The Romans have left Watling Street. They march on the valley!”

“Good,” I said. “Return to the front lines. I will follow.”

Abertha dug her heels into her horse’s flanks and raced away.

I said nothing more. All I could do was keep moving forward and keep hoping the battle was not truly lost.

“Hold tight, girls.” I clucked and snapped the reins. My girls’ wolves ran beside us as Ennis and Finley surged forward with

Rhan, Maldwyn, and my guard following.

I drove the chariot through the rear lines of the army and my soldiers parted before me, beginning a chant that spread like a rippling wave on a quiet pool.

“Bou-dic-ca! Bou-dic-ca! Bou-dic-ca!”

Their belief in me made me stand tall. Whatever was to come, I would face it with my people. I drove through my army, buoyed

by their cheers, until I was in front of them on the flat valley that opened to the death marching toward us. I turned my

back to the approaching Romans and faced my people.

Cadoc was there, waiting in his chariot, looking like a wrathful god of war in his stag-horn helmet. His smile was a baring

of teeth. His driver held the Iceni carnyx at the ready. Abertha had moved from her mount to another chariot. I knew she and

Cadoc would frame me during the battle. It comforted me.

Stretching out along the first row of warriors were the other three chiefs and their shields. Comux, Leofric, and Mailcun

bowed to me and then took up the cheer with the rest of the army.

“Bou-dic-ca! Bou-dic-ca! Bou-dic-ca!”

I drove Ennis and Finley back and forth along the front line of the army as my girls raised their fists and shouted with the

warriors before I chose a spot in the center of the valley and halted my team. I caught sight of Maldwyn. He was standing

beside Rhan. They’d dismounted and I could see that their heads were tilted together.

“Mama.” Ceri tugged on my cape so that I glanced down at her. She did not sound frightened. All she said was, “Behind us I

can see the sun shining on the Romans’ shields.”

“Don’t look at them, little dove. They are nothing.” I bent and kissed her and Enfys. Then I straightened and raised my hand.

The army went silent. Above me a dozen ravens swooped low, gliding over my chariot and over the army to take up perches in

the trees surrounding the valley. My people cheered. I raised my hand again and they went silent. I drew a deep breath and

pitched my voice so it would carry.

“Britons, though we are of different tribes, we are one people, fighting for one reason, with a combined spirit the Romans have never understood, nor will ever understand! They are a people driven by an insatiable need for more, more, more! They do not come to this valley to fight for their freedom or to save their homeland or even to protect their daughters.” I spread my arms to encircle Enfys and Ceri. “Romans prefer to rape daughters, slaughter elders, and enslave warriors.

“We know better! We are here for one reason— to reclaim our freedom ! Rome has given us no choice in this war. If we do not fight they will erase us, obliterate our customs, thieve our gods,

and subjugate us, making us slaves in our own lands.

“I will not be enslaved! I will not be erased! Will you?”

“NO!” the army roared.

Rhan stepped out from the front line. She held a long spear and danced toward my chariot, whirling and spinning, stomping

and leaping, as she twirled the spear. Her white-blond hair lifted around her with her high Druid robes. When she reached

my chariot, she faced the army and began pounding the spear rhythmically against the ground. The army echoed her with their

own spears until the whole valley shook with the heartbeat of our people.

“Today we fight!” I spoke in time with the heartbeat. “Today we shall be free—either in death or in victory!”

As the army chanted my name, I bent to my daughters. “Go with Briallen now. Be brave. Do as she says. I love you.” I kissed

both girls.

Briallen raced up on a horse, leading two more, but before Enfys followed Ceri from the chariot, she looked up at me with

eyes far older than her years and said, “Mama, you won’t let anything happen to the babe, will you?”

Her words almost broke me. “You need not worry about the babe or me, my darling. All will be well.”

Enfys nodded somberly before she jumped from the chariot to scramble aboard her mount. My gaze followed my girls until they

were lost in the crowd.

Then Rhan said, “Remember. I have prepared.” She mounted Tan, whom Maldwyn had led to us, and galloped out of sight.

Maldwyn jumped nimbly into the cart beside me. Cadoc and Abertha took their places on either side of us. Finally, we turned the chariots to face the mouth of the valley. The Roman legions were there. The rising sun glistened off their golden sigils and shields and armor. They seemed to stretch on endlessly, a dangerous tide of crimson and gold and bronze. I let my gaze scan the steep slopes of the hills that trapped us. Above us, exactly where Deorwine had said she would be, was Cartimandua. She was caught in a ray of sunlight that illuminated her so well that I could see the lift of her strong jaw and the steel in her eyes as she stared out at the Romans. She sat on a huge black horse and held the familiar sigil of Tribe Brigantes, a black banner with Brigantia’s flame emblazoned in gold across it. The butt of the pole that held it rested against her thigh, waiting to be raised. Her words echoed from my memory. I will allow the Romans to enter the valley. They will believe it is your arrogance that has trapped you. I will raise and

wave the Brigantes sigil, which will signal my army to attack. Then it will be the Romans whose arrogance has trapped them.

The Romans called out a command, pulling my attention from the Brigantes queen. I expected the legions to march forward, shields

locked, but instead they remained outside the valley, waiting and watching.

“What are they doing?” Cadoc asked. “Shall we take them by the hand and lead them into battle?”

I had no answer except for the terrible chill crawling along my spine and up my neck, causing my skin to prickle. Suddenly

panicked shouts and screams came to us before we heard the pounding of hooves and the distinctive creaking of wagons. And

then our family-filled caravans, which had been hidden, tucked along the far slope of the hills, where they should have been

safe, poured into our valley—driven by Roman legions.

“Oh, goddess!” Maldwyn choked the words out.

My stomach tightened with rage and dread as our terrified families joined us in our trap.

“Sound the carnyx!” I told Cadoc. Screaming the Iceni war cry, we thundered forward.