Page 17 of Boudicca

“If I have your leave, I will supervise your guard in how to make a bonfire with what is left of the funeral torches, so that

at dusk they can be lit and the smoke offered to Andraste.” Rhan spoke softly to me as we reached the outskirts of Tasceni

and headed to the corrals and shelters being built to replace the grand stables the Romans had burned.

“Yes, of course,” I said. “Do you need me to join you?”

Rhan smiled knowingly. “No. You are free to remain here, with your Tan, who soothes your spirit.”

I stroked Tan’s smooth neck. “You know me well.” Then I turned in my saddle and spoke to the warrior who marched closest to

me. “Dreda, Rhan will give you instructions on how to make ready the funeral torches to burn at dusk. Mind what she says carefully.”

The tall, chestnut-haired woman bowed. “As you ask, so will I do.”

The funeral column broke off from me then as they followed the main road into the heart of Tasceni. I didn’t have to guide

Tan the rest of the way to the corrals. The intelligent mare took over for me, which allowed me the luxury of a little pocket

of temporary solitude.

Tasceni hummed with activity. It was just after midday, but in the time I’d been at the barrow even more warriors had joined

us. Warriors, strangers and those familiar, greeted me when I rode past. I nodded and smiled but did not stop. The Druids’

entombing ritual had eased my grief, but I needed time to break the lingering tendrils of loss that were now more like delicate

spiderwebs instead of the chains that had been weighing me down.

Tan followed her head and I was pleased that she chose a corral that was not currently surrounded by warriors, but instead was quiet and had tufts of early alfalfa heaped in a pile beside a clean trough brimming with fresh water.

From her back I opened the corral gate and then dismounted, took off her bridle, and unbuckled the thick pelt and leather

riding pad before I made my way quickly to a nearby newly erected shelter that held storage space for tack and grain. I chose

a wide-toothed wooden comb for her mane and tail, a soft horsehair brush, and an oiled cloth to keep her coat gleaming and

repel insects.

When I returned to the corral, Tan had her muzzle buried in the mound of alfalfa and she stood contentedly while I groomed

her. Each stroke brought me peace. As Tan sighed, cocked a back leg, and dozed, I sorted through the threads that still bound

me with grief. They were lighter and easier to bear, but they clung to me, sticky and insistent.

I ignored what was left of them and cleared my mind, allowing the mare’s peacefulness to flow through me. The cloth moved

easily over her smooth, warm coat and smelled sweetly of horse and the oils of lavender, mint, and basil that repelled insects.

The scents worked to bring back my childhood, and remembrance lifted my lips in a nostalgic smile. I could almost hear my

father proudly telling my mother how steady my seat was and predicting I would make a fine horsewoman.

I rested my head against the mare’s neck, allowing the remembrance to bring me joy rather than loneliness and longing for

that which I would never hear again in this lifetime—the voices of my parents.

Behind me someone cleared his throat. I sighed and schooled the annoyance from my face. I was queen of the Iceni, and queens

are granted many things, but privacy is not often one of them. I turned to see my horse master, Maldwyn, standing just outside

the corral. He was holding two squirming bundles of fur. I frowned in confusion as the wriggling little creatures whined weakly.

“Wolf pups?” I asked.

Maldwyn nodded and smiled sheepishly. “Yes, my queen.”

Intrigued, I approached, slipping through the corral gate. All tribes used hounds to hunt. Prasutagus always had a favorite dog that ate scraps from our table in the lodge. At his death his current favorite, named Bran, had taken to following Cadoc around so much I’d finally told the old warrior to keep the hound in his hut. I’d meant to choose a pup from the next litter born to the tribe and gift him to my daughters. I liked dogs, though not as much as horses, but I’d never seen a wolf pup this young, nor this close.

“They’re thin and look ill—and are so very young,” I said as my finger touched their matted fur. They were small, clearly

not old enough to be weaned.

“I—I hope I have not overstepped, my queen.”

Maldwyn’s voice was hesitant, and I looked up from the pups and into his eyes. He was young for a lead warrior, several years

even my junior, but he’d had a special connection with horses, and all animals, since he was just a child. Horses in particular

seemed to speak to him. The tribe’s dogs followed him around. If he sat still long enough, even Iceni chickens would roost

around his feet. His features were strong. His thick hair was white blond, dyed with lime paste, as was the hair of all Iceni

cavalry. He would not have been considered handsome except for his striking blue eyes and how his smile transformed his face

with warmth. At the moment, though, he appeared nervous as he met my gaze reluctantly and shifted from foot to foot.

“Overstepped? Because you did not put these pups out of their misery?” I glanced down at the little creatures and felt a tug

of pity. There had been so much death recently. I thought I could understand how Maldwyn would be reluctant to end their lives.

“Yes and no.” He drew in a deep breath, and as he exhaled he said in a rush, “I thought they might help your daughters.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Because of how I found them. Because of what happened to their pack—their tribe.”

“Tell me.” As Maldwyn explained how he’d come to save the pups, I felt my gut tighten in anger.

“I know pups this young need constant care,” Maldwyn was saying. “And after I found them I had a sudden thought that Enfys and Ceri might be able to give them the care they need to heal and thrive. In doing so these pups might...” Maldwyn’s words faded as he shrugged and had a hard time meeting my gaze.

“And in healing them my daughters in turn might be healed, and also thrive again,” I finished for the horse master.

“Yes, my queen.” He shook his head. “Forgive me for the presumption.”

“You did not presume. All Iceni know my daughters are battered in body and spirit.” I paused and touched the pups again. This

time they raised their heads and looked at me. I saw within their eyes a spark that I recognized and understood. They’d been

broken and battered but they wanted to live. Had they not, they would have perished with their littermates. “I think you’re

right. These pups could be very good for my daughters. Come with me, Horse Master, and tell Enfys and Ceri how you came to

find them.”

The horse master and I walked through the village, and as we did so the Iceni paused in whatever they were doing and bowed

to me. There were so many faces I didn’t recognize that I asked Maldwyn, “Have you a count of how many warriors have newly

joined us?”

“For that you will have to ask Cadoc. I was away all morning scouting the best camping spots for what I believe will soon

be an army that overflows Tasceni.” Maldwyn kept the pups tucked close against his chest and spoke softly, but his chin lifted

proudly and his cornflower eyes swept the village and the new faces.

“I can feel them,” I said. “Their excitement and their purpose. Andraste was right. We will serve our vengeance to Rome.”

“Did you doubt it?” he asked so quietly that I barely heard him above the muted whines and grunts of the pups.

I stared at the lodge as we came to the front stair and the wide open doors. “Only a fool never doubts.”

I led Maldwyn into the lodge, which was buzzing with busy women and fragrant with newly baked bread. Briallen was one of the guards at the doors, but when I gave her a small gesture, she followed me within. My daughters were sitting at the trestle table before the large cooking fire. They each had a piece of beautifully dyed cloth that Wulffaed’s granddaughters were helping them embroider. They looked up and saw me, but their smiles of greeting dimmed as their gazes rested on the tall warrior beside me.

“Be close to the girls,” I said under my breath to Briallen, who nodded slightly and moved to stand between them. I halted

a few strides from my daughters and touched Maldwyn’s arm so that he stopped at my side. “Enfys, Ceri, our horse master has

brought you a gift.” I nodded to Maldwyn, and he lifted the pups and held them high so the girls could see them. They protested,

whining and wriggling with strength that surprised me and gave me hope for their survival.

“Are—are they puppies?” Enfys asked.

“Wolf pups,” Maldwyn said. He did not approach the girls, though Ceri cringed as if he’d lifted his hand to strike her.

“They are very young,” said the Mother of Twenty as she wiped her hands on her apron and peered at the pups. “Looks like their

eyes have just barely opened. They should be at a she-wolf’s teats.”

“Indeed they should,” said Maldwyn.

“Tell my daughters why the pups are here,” I said.

“I was scouting for campsites south of Tasceni and came upon their pack, slaughtered and skinned and left for the vultures.

I found an arrow painted with stars on its shaft embedded in a tree nearby,” he said.

“Catuvellauni.” Wulffaed’s voice was filled with scorn and her mouth pursed as if she’d eaten something sour.

“Yes.” I watched my daughters. “The same traitors who led the Romans to us.”

“They killed the whole pack?” Wulffaed came closer and touched the pups. “Even a she-wolf who’d just whelped?”

“Yes,” said Maldwyn.

I spoke to my daughters. “This winter when your father signed the treaty with Rome, I noticed that their men ”—I almost spat the word—“seemed overly fond of wearing wolf-skin cloaks. The Catuvellauni must be determined to be sure they continue to swath themselves in the spoils of our land.”

“H-how did these pups live?” Ceri’s voice was hesitant, but she was looking at Maldwyn when she asked the question—and this

was the first time she’d spoken to a man other than to scream in terror since the Romans had brutalized her.

Maldwyn replied with gentleness and honesty. “They survived by will. They refused to die with their pack and instead chose

to keep breathing when their littermates chose death. These two little ones did not succumb. They did not give up. They reminded

me of my queen’s daughters with their bravery, and so I brought them home to you.” He held the pups up again as they yipped

complaints.

My daughters exchanged a long look, and then Enfys took Ceri’s hand in hers. They stood and together approached Maldwyn. I

held my breath and the horse master did not move until they stood directly in front of him. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he

bent and offered the pups to the girls.

Enfys moved first. She reached up and took one pup from Maldwyn. Ceri grasped the other. She even smiled shyly at the horse

master before turning all her attention to the skinny, wriggling pup.

“I can fashion teats from a bladder for the pups,” said Wulffaed. “Last whelping season one of our hound bitches had not enough

milk for her litter of eleven, and I found a way to help suckle the puppies. Goat’s milk and a little honey mixed with the

blood of a pig worked well. We did not lose one pup.”

“They are very dirty.” Enfys wrinkled her nose.

Ceri nodded and her sad eyes met mine. “And they smell of fear and death.”

I felt a premonitory chill shudder down my spine as I remembered that Rhan used to do that—used to scent feelings. Did I want

to lose Ceri to Ynys M?n? I mentally shook myself. That was not a worry for today. “They are yours,” I told my daughters.

“Bathe them, feed them, show them you understand their bravery, and I believe they will richly reward you.”

Enfys looked up at me. “We do understand their bravery. They deserve to live.”

“Yes,” said Ceri firmly. “They do.”

“Then with the queen’s permission, let’s get these pups bathed and fed,” said Wulffaed.

“Permission granted,” I said with a grateful smile.

As Wulffaed and her granddaughters began heating water to bathe the pups and gathering supplies so they could be fed, Briallen

met my gaze. “That was wise of you.”

“Not my wisdom.” I pointed my chin at my horse master.

“Aye.” Briallen smiled at Maldwyn. “All beasties come to this one.”

Maldwyn’s face flushed as he bowed to me. “I’m glad to serve my queen and her daughters.”

“And you can continue doing so. Sit with me.” I motioned to the trestle table my daughters had just vacated. I glanced around

the lodge until I spotted my longtime servant. “Phaedra, bring us mead.”

Maldwyn sat across the table from me. We did not speak until Phaedra placed two full mugs of spring mead before us. I drank

quickly, only then realizing my thirst and hunger, which clever Phaedra had noticed as well. Soon she placed a pitcher of

mead and a platter of bread and cheese and dried fish before us. I nodded for Maldwyn to join me. We ate silently while I

sorted my thoughts. I heard Wulffaed’s gruff voice tell one of her daughters to be sure I had privacy and was glad that Maldwyn

and I had a small pocket of solitude in which to speak.

“I will lead us into battle,” I said with no preamble.

Maldwyn’s brows lifted. “May I make a suggestion?”

“As long as it is not that I remain behind the battle lines, yes.”

“I would never think such a thing. I saw you slit the throat of our enemy. I watched you closely. For a moment the fire of

the banshees blazed in your eyes. I knew then you would lead us into battle.”

His words sent a thrill through my body. Banshees were Druid warrior women who became so consumed by battle lust that they brought terror and death to any man who attempted to stand against them.

“I suggest you fight from a chariot,” continued my horse master. “From there you can lead our warriors into battle, and with

the right driver, you can be deadly as well as protected better than you would be on horseback.”

I nodded slowly. I knew he was right—our chariots were light and swift and deadly—but I had drilled more often with sword

and spear from horseback.

He broke into my thoughts. “You have time. When you lead us you will be ready.”

“And which driver would you choose for me?” I asked.

He bowed his head and put his fist over his heart. “None but me, my queen.”

It made sense. I’d elevated him to horse master for more than his ability to communicate with horses. Maldwyn’s expertise

at fighting from horseback was second only to his skill with a chariot.

“I agree. Make me a warrior fit to lead our people.”

Maldwyn’s eyes blazed as he replied, “You are already that, my queen. I give you my oath that I will be sure your spear arm

is as true as your banshee spirit when you lead us, Victory.”

“Good. Then let us begin.”

He blinked at me as if in surprise. “Now?”

“Now.”