Chapter 36
The feast is magnificent. It’s exactly what we needed to boost morale and prepare for the upcoming mission. My chest is light as happiness pours from me. A simmering current of warmth slides through my veins as I survey the dining hall from beside Boudicca and Leif. Such smiles on everyone’s faces.
Torin and Agatha are seated at the quiet end of the dining hall, their heads bent in conversation.
They must have so much to catch up on. Leif begins shouting, the mead in his hand the fourth I’ve seen him drink, or maybe the fifth.
But his words about battles in the human realm have my attention swinging back to him fully.
“I led a revolt once,” Boudicca says.
Her eyes shine and I’m not sure if it’s from the wine or the memory of her past. Her life is legendary, one of my favorite history lessons my parents taught me.
“That was more than a revolt if I remember correctly,” Leif chimes in, and I nod enthusiastically.
“I would agree.” I smile and take another sip of my wine, savoring the fruity bitterness.
Boudicca turns her shocked eyes towards me. “You know of my history?”
I splutter with excitement and the wine in my goblet sloshes over the side. “Of course, everyone knows about you.”
“They still speak of me?” Her words are said on a gasp and she clutches the neckline of her long linen gown.
I laugh before I realize she’s being serious and share a look with Leif.
He seems just as surprised as I am. “Y-yes. Your history is well documented. Your daughters were assaulted by the Romans.” I lower my voice.
“Your husband’s will ignored.” Her eyes darken as a shadow crosses her face at the mention of old ghosts.
“Because of this, you led the Iceni tribe into a revolution. You destroyed Roman strongholds that no one could have ever dreamt of destroying. Londinium, and...”
My mind goes blank. The wine is having a greater effect on me than the heat in my veins. I snap my fingers repeatedly, trying to pry the name from the recesses of my memory. “Camulodunum!”
“And Verulamium,” she whispers.
My victory of remembrance is set aside as I take in the heroine in front of me, the life she must have lived, the pain she must have felt.
“You beat the Romans so badly that Nero almost withdrew all of his forces from Briton,” I say with incredulity. “You’re one of Britain’s most famous heroines.”
Her bottom lip quivers and tears begin glimmering in her eyes. “But I lost.”
I shake my head, trying to clear it further. I need her to know, to understand that she belongs to history’s list of most infamous women.
“You might have lost that war. But there is no longer a Roman Empire. And there are statues of you all over Britain and Wales. When women were fighting for the right to vote, they used images of you.”
Boudicca reels back. “Women had to fight for the right to vote?”
Even Leif looks disturbed, crossing his arms over his chest. His massive shoulders twitch with an agitated breath.
My lips tighten into a grim line. “Women have had to fight for a lot of things, in the time I’m from.”
Shock and horror have her eyes drying up immediately. “Are we not human? Do we not bleed the same color?”
I dip my chin in agreement, but also wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake filling her in on the setbacks of women’s rights.
“What horror have men inflicted on women?” Leif asks, his face twisted in fury.
“Women fought side by side with men when I sailed the seas. They were left in charge of money, farms, and schooling children. Gods, there wasn’t a single thing women couldn’t do.
When I was a human.” He thumps his fist upon his chest. It sounds like a war drum.
I shift from foot to foot, knowing my explanation might send them both into a rage, but the wine has obviously loosened my tongue. “For a long time, women couldn’t own property, or make their own money. It all belonged to their husbands or fathers. They had to fight for the right to read.”
Boudicca visibly bristles, while Leif looks on, disgusted. His long beard twitches with the clenching of his jaw.
I continue on. “In my time, women had to fight for the right to marry if they loved a woman, the right to choose if they wanted to have a baby, or to leave their husbands.”
Leif chucks his mug of mead onto the floor. The remaining liquid inside splashing all over his leathers, and mine. “THAT IS AN OUTRAGE!” His booming voice causes the hall to go quiet and people to turn our way and stare. Lachlan, not far from my side, begins sliding through the crowd.
“What gives men the right?” Boudicca seethes.
I shake my head, hating the words that are about to come out of my mouth. “The people did.”
“Why are we even fighting for them?” she asks, bewildered. “If they would enslave their own women?”
Lachlan reaches my side and rests a hand on the small back.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, his accent made deeper by the mead he’s consumed.
My breath comes out shaky, but I reply, “I may have told Boudicca and Leif about the setbacks in women’s rights. And now they’re wondering why we’re even trying to save the humans…”
His brows raise comically high on his forehead. The green of his eyes glows so brightly. “And ye told them?”
Boudicca’s words still rattle around in my mind before I can formulate the words.
“We fight for the ones who are leading revolutions there. To give them a chance.”
Boudicca looks to Leif, his chest still heaves with each breath.
“To revolutions,” he says, swiping a pitcher of mead off a nearby table and raising it high.
“To revolutions!” The room echoes.
A dark shadow catches my eye in the corner and I excuse myself, slipping out of Lachlan’s grip and making my way towards Joan.
“Révolution,” I say to Joan, raising my glass in greeting.
Her brow raises sharply as if tugged by an invisible string.
“Oui, my queen.” I think this is the first time she’s ever spoken to me.
But with the promise of historical tales being shared, hers is a story I can’t resist.
“And what is your opinion on them?” I ask, studying her dark eyes.
“They can be dangerous, and full of betrayal.”
That is more words in a row than I’ve ever heard her speak to anyone. I study her, from her short dark hair, to the men’s black tunic and pants.
“Joan, you were an incredible hero that was betrayed by the very kingdom you led to victory.” My words cause the color to drain from her face. She clutches her goblet tightly, whitening her knuckles.
“I was betrayed, oui. But I followed the Father’s orders until the very end.”
So pious, even now. She doesn’t engage any further, but she also doesn’t make a move to step away.
“What do you think of what’s happening now?” I turn to stand beside her, watching the merriment of the feast.
“I think everything happens for a reason, even if you don’t understand why.”
“Did you know you are a saint in the human realm?” I ask, over the rim of my wine glass before taking a sip.
Joan snorts loudly.
“No, seriously! You are. The Catholic Church made you a saint. And you’re widely regarded as one of the first feminists. They’ve written novels, plays, poems, and even movies about you.”
Joan waves me off. “The legacy is not what I fought for.”
“What did you fight for?” Knowing she’d probably name Charles, the prince who betrayed her.
“A better world.” Her answer catches me off guard. “What we’re still fighting for,” she whispers. “If you’ll excuse me.” She disappears into the crowd, and I’m left mulling over her words.
A better world.
If we can save the world, could I eventually make it better, too?
Satiah finds me standing right where Joan left me.
“She didn’t depress you too much, did she?” She teases.
I flick my eyes to her warm ones. “Quite the contrary, she has me thinking of the future.”
“Very noble,” she giggles. Satiah’s past eludes me and I wrack my brain for any information.
“You’re wondering about my life before?”
“I am actually.” I tilt my head to the side, wondering if my thoughts play out vividly across my face for everyone to read.
“Not all heroines made it into the history books.” She smirks.
But there’s something about her face that strikes me in torchlight. Her bronze skin shimmers like that of statues carved in sandstone. “My husband was a Pharaoh, and I led beside him.”
My mind immediately conjures up images of long-ago Egypt, the black dirt, the marshy delta of the Nile, and the heat.
“My mother was the first female nurse in our kingdom and instilled within me her knowledge of healing.” Her smile is bright, but her eyes are a million miles away.
She takes a sip of wine and her gaze returns to the room and people around her.
There’s a sadness dimming her usual sparkle.
“When a great plague swept through our land, I had infirmaries erected and healers brought in from all over the world to help save our people. I even worked there myself, trying to save as many as I could—before the illness took me too.”
She stands still, and that’s when I see it.
“There’s a statue of you in the Cairo museum,” I breathe. “But there’s no mention of that.”
She scoffs and waves me off. Her night-black hair skims her shoulders. “Why should there be? I did nothing any other decent leader wouldn’t have done to save their people. I did my best.”
She smiles at me, before tipping back her glass of wine and sauntering back into the crowd.
Her words linger in the air.
Words I needed to hear, to live by.
Just do your best.
A band begins setting up instruments in the corner. Excitement has me gliding through the crowd closer to where they’re setting up to play. My body sways as I walk, anticipating the sounds before the musicians are even in place.
A lyre is plucked, and the hall falls quiet, awaiting the strings of music with bated breath. The lanky man from the tavern walks through the door, and my heart rate doubles. I shoot a glance towards Mathilda as she drags Tane my way.
The man bows his head as the music starts. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders bobbing with the exertion. When he raises his head and begins singing, the sound of his voice is so soulful and powerful, that I shiver.
The lyrics are about a man, faced with the end of his life, and his last thoughts are on his love. The words resonate deep within my soul, like he took my very fears and dreams to construct the lyrics of this song. Lachlan’s arms wrap around my waist from behind, and I lean back against his chest.
At the end of the day, at the end of our lives, the one thing that could ever possibly matter is the love we had. Some stories won’t be written in the history books, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be remembered.
Some stories are written in the history books, their endings so horrible and unjust. But the stories of battles once fought came from love. Revolutions have been started for the love of a kingdom, or the love of a daughter wronged. Lives have been lost in pursuit of saving loved ones.
What we’re doing now is no different. I look around the room at Lachlan standing beside Torin, Tane, and Matilda holding hands, Mina, Evander, and Luna. I would do anything to keep them safe, and to create a better world for them. Resolve settles into my veins.
I can do this. I can lead them to victory.