Page 18 of Boudicca

An Iceni war chariot is a thing of dangerous beauty. For our first practice session Maldwyn chose his favorite. It was decorated

with the Iceni sickle moons and sheets of gold pounded flat and thin and wrapped around the front of the cart so that it glittered

in the sunlight.

“We have time, so you could begin with a simpler, lighter chariot,” he said as we worked together to yoke two matched stallions

into their harnesses. The pair was a striking gray; they seemed as if they’d been dipped in moonbeams. “But I have seen you

take up the chariot reins on the practice field. You are ready for this challenge now, so why waste time?”

I looked up from threading the double reins through the dorsal yoke. “You’ve seen me?”

His cheeks flushed, but he replied nonchalantly, “As did most of the tribe when you and Prasutagus drilled together.”

I smiled as I knotted the reins, remembering the mock fights my husband had so loved. I’d preferred to battle him from horseback

using wooden practice swords, but he was more partial to the showier light chariots. We’d used spears with their wooden ends

flattened so that it was almost impossible to strike maiming blows, though I’d often emerged from our sessions bruised and

sore. Once I’d drawn my husband’s blood when the flattened end had scraped across his bare bicep as we thundered past each

other. My smile widened and I could almost hear his proud laughter again as he held up his injured arm and declared me fierce

as Andraste.

I was going to work hard to prove his jesting words true.

When I met Maldwyn’s gaze he was smiling, too. “Thinking of the day you bested our chief?”

“I was.” My smile sobered. “I want you to teach me to best all who come against me.”

“It will be my honor, my queen.” He tossed a spear to me that I easily caught. It was not the blunt-ended practice spear with

which I’d been accustomed. I raised one brow.

“Balance is what is most important when fighting from a chariot. Practice spears, with their blunted, wooden ends, have a

different center of balance than a real spear,” he explained.

I nodded and hefted the weapon. “We have time, but not time to waste.”

“Yes, Queen Boudicca.”

“The practice field is ready!” shouted a young warrior who galloped up to us.

My gaze went from his excited face to Maldwyn, and the horse master again understood my unspoken question. “The warriors must

have spread the word that their queen is taking to the field.”

I felt a shiver of nerves. I was used to drilling with the warriors, especially those of my guard, but this was something

entirely different than simply practicing skills I had never believed I would use in battle. Now these warriors who flooded

into Iceni did so because of me—because I had uttered a curse and proclaimed war against an enemy that seemed unstoppable.

I wiped my sweaty hand on my riding leathers. I could not fail them. I would not fail them.

“I’m ready.” I hoped saying it would make it so.

Maldwyn handed me a long wooden shield made of oak covered in leather with cross strips of wide iron. He turned and placed

a half dozen more spears in a leather holder tied to the sideboard of the carriage. Then he climbed up into the chariot and

went to his knees on the ribs of the carriage, which were made of leather thongs woven together and attached to the sideboards

so that they were suspended above the wooden floor. The leather weaving added a supple platform that allowed us to move more

easily with the chariot as it thundered across the land. Chariot drivers were unarmed. Their only defenses were the arched

sideboards and the shieldlike front of the carriage, which Maldwyn would kneel behind as he guided our team into battle.

I stepped up beside him and took a wide-legged stance, holding my shield before me in my left hand and my spear in my right.

“Ennis, Finley, hup !” Maldwyn snapped the reins and the well-trained pair moved out together. Necks bowed, they were a beautiful sight as they

eagerly pulled against the traces. Maldwyn clucked and murmured to them. Their sensitive ears flicked back to catch his words

while they pranced and tried to contain their desire to surge forward, ready for the excitement of battle.

As we emerged onto the practice field I was surprised to see that warriors framed it, and when they caught sight of me a mighty

cheer lifted from them. “Victory! Victory!”

It should have made me more nervous, having so many Iceni watch me with such hope bright in their eyes, and perhaps it would

have had not their shouts of Victory been echoed by the throaty kraa-kraa that came from dozens of ravens who circled over my chariot and then landed in the boughs of Grandmother Oak.

Rhan stepped from the side of the field. “Andraste gives sign!” Her voice lifted above the warriors’ cheers and the ravens’

encouragement. “The goddess of war greets Victory!” She nodded to me, her grin more of a baring of her teeth than a smile,

before she moved back to rejoin the watching Iceni.

Six chariots faced us from across the field. Each of them held a warrior-sized straw target strapped to the carriages beside

kneeling drivers.

“They’ll be moving?” I asked Maldwyn. The only moving target I’d ever drilled with had been Prasutagus, and then my spear

had been blunted and my husband and I had used the light practice chariots that were more easily maneuvered.

Maldwyn turned his head to meet my gaze. “Yes, as will the Romans. The warriors know to begin slowly, but move they must.

This is how we train for war.”

This is not play or show. The rest of what he meant remained unspoken, but I heard the truth in my mind and nodded. “Yes. I understand.”

“For these first runs, brace your shield against the front of the carriage, here.” He guided my shield into place. As it settled in a grooved notch, I could feel my weight shifting and my balance becoming surer. “When the straw targets are replaced by living warriors, you’ll practice lifting the shield to protect you against spears and swords.”

“And that won’t be today?” I asked, only half in jest.

The corner of his lips lifted. “Not today.” He turned his attention from me back to the field. “But perhaps tomorrow. Ready

yourself. You have six opponents. We will drill until you have struck each of them in one run.”

I lifted the first spear, finding its balance. A glance at the others waiting in the basket that pressed against my right

thigh showed me that Maldwyn had been careful to choose spears all of the same size and weight.

“When you are ready, queen of the Iceni,” said Maldwyn.

I stood tall, my shoulders back, drew in a deep breath, and with my exhale I let loose the mighty war cry of the Iceni. Maldwyn

cracked the reins and the moon-colored team shot forward. The watching warriors took up the cry and my adrenaline surged.

In a line, one behind another, the chariots pounded toward us. The speed was faster than when I’d sparred with Prasutagus,

though I could tell Maldwyn and the teams opposing us were holding back.

My first throw struck the straw target, though it didn’t embed itself. It glanced off the side of the target, much as my practice

spear had that past day when I’d bested my husband. I could tell some of the watching warriors remembered that day as they

whooped encouragement.

Not used to rearming myself so quickly, I missed the next target completely but steadied myself and struck the third in the

chest. The fourth I missed as well, but I hit the fifth and then I got the rhythm of it and hit the sixth, my spear burying

itself deeply in the center of the target’s chest.

As Maldwyn pulled the pair up I shouted, “Again!” and the young warrior who had earlier proclaimed the field ready ran to

us, bringing me six more spears. We began anew.

I did not hit all six targets in one run until the sun had dipped behind the raven-filled oak. By then, sweat soaked my leathers and lifting my spear arm felt as if I were attempting to heft a limb made of iron, but when I did it—when I struck all of the targets in one single run—the Iceni, my Iceni, raised such a cry that it shook the ravens from the tree and the sky echoed with shouts of Victory! Victory!

***

For the evening meal, long tables filled the main road of Tasceni from my lodge almost all the way to the practice field.

Food came from throughout the village—steaming wooden trays of pork roasted with chestnuts and spices, fried cod, succulent

goose, and meat pies. Loaves of freshly baked bread soaked up gravy, and deep bowls of baked apples as well as thick berry

pies and honey cakes sweetened the air. Pitchers of spring mead were shared generously as fires were lit all along the village

road.

I sat at the center of a raised trestle table that Wulffaed had situated at the bottom of the lodge stairs and ate with the

same ravenous gusto as did the rest of the warriors. Rhan was on my right in her place of honor as Iceni seer. I had Maldwyn

seated on my left where Cadoc would usually be to show my appreciation for his excellence on the field. Cadoc sat beside him

and was engaged in an animated conversation with the horse master about my future training. Abertha was seated beside Rhan.

I knew this couldn’t be how we ate every night, not if our numbers climbed to those that we’d need to bring vengeance to the

Romans at Camulodunum, but this night it was a joy to watch my people. The Iceni seemed to shine with determination and courage

and joy. I marveled at that joy and realized that neither Prasutagus nor I had understood the depth of the despair our people

had fallen into under Rome’s booted foot.

No more. No more would we live in fear, slaves in our own land.

I finished the last bite of a succulent mound of buttery cod and then lifted my mug of mead to drink deeply, making sure I didn’t wince at the weariness in my arm muscles or the terrible stiffness from the wounds in my back, which had yet to completely heal.

“It will get better in a few days.” Maldwyn’s voice was low and for my ears alone.

I met his gaze with a chagrined half smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“No.” He chuckled. “But I was there with you for every moment. I know how much strength it took to throw those spears over

and over and over. I also know your back must still be raw and sore. Mint salve will help, as will a hot bath, but mostly

it will just take time for your body to get used to the training and to heal.”

“I will not falter,” I said.

“Of course you will not, my queen.”

Cadoc bumped his shoulder then and launched them into a discussion about whether or not the shield I carried into battle should

be wood crossed with iron, or wood covered with bronze. I was glad to leave them to the minutiae of battle, trusting that

they would more than likely have me drill with both to see which would protect me best. I was exhausted and sore but content.

I loved listening to the easy way my tribe joked with one another and told stories of the day. Their voices were filled with

hope, and that hope was contagious.

“Boudicca?” Rhan pulled me from my thoughts and I turned to her. “The sun has set and the time is right for me to light the

central fire and burn the funeral torches. May I do so?”

“Of course, my friend. Of course.”

Rhan made her way to a carefully stacked pile of kindling and wood several paces in front of our main table. Around the top

of the triangular mound, the seer had placed the half-burned funeral torches, so that they stuck out from the rest of the

wood like thick candles. Using a torch she’d kept from the pile, Rhan went to the closest burning fire and lit it. The conversation

had quieted as the Iceni watched their seer. Rhan’s movements were confident and held such grace that in the flickering firelight

she seemed to have slid through the veil from Annwn.

She lifted the blazing torch high and spread her other arm out wide so that her ovate robes of green and brown plaid rippled around her. Rhan circled the woodpile, lighting each of the remaining funeral torches as her musical voice proclaimed,

Fire, I call you to blaze high, blaze true.

And air, I call you to carry the last of the burial smoke from Tasceni

Home to Annwn with you.

The torches lit instantly, catching the dried wood, and with a whoosh , fire licked the darkening sky. Smoke swirled and eddied, and as it lifted into the deep sapphire of the night it seemed that

faces formed within it. They looked down upon us like eternal guardians before they floated away into the sky.

Rhan returned to her place by my side, and as the Iceni went back to their talk and stories and feasting, the seer brushed

back her blond hair and said, “The signs are clear. Andraste watches. Andraste approves.”

I’d known it, but Rhan’s proclamation had my shoulders relaxing as I exhaled a shaky breath. I opened my mouth to ask Rhan

more about the signs she’d witnessed, but Briallen’s voice at my back had me turning.

“My queen, the bairns would like a word,” said the warrior.

There, beside Briallen, stood Enfys and Ceri. My only sadness that night had been that they had not joined me for the meal

but remained inside the lodge under Ashlynn and Ravenna’s watchful eyes. I was surprised to see them there, standing still

and strong as they used to. Each cradled a wolf pup in her arms. The pups were asleep and I could see that they had been washed

and their bellies were full and fat. I smiled at my daughters and cleared the sudden thickness in my throat before I spoke.

“I am always happy to hear from my daughters.”

“Well, Mama, it is not you we need to speak to,” said Enfys. I could see the strain of being close to so many men written

on her pale face and how the little hands that held her pup trembled.

“Yes, Mama, we must speak with Maldwyn.” Ceri spoke with more confidence, and I noted that the darkness under her eyes had

cleared and her cheeks were, once again, pink with health.

Maldwyn reacted to his name by turning to see who spoke. When he sighted the girls, his face gentled, and moving slowly, as if they were wild hares he did not wish to frighten, he clasped his hands together in his lap and then looked to me.

“Enfys and Ceri would speak with you,” I said.

“How may I serve the Iceni princesses?” Maldwyn asked.

“You already have!” Ceri said with such cheer in her voice that I had to bite my cheek not to gasp in happy surprise.

“Yes.” Enfys spoke with markedly less cheer and she didn’t seem to be able to look directly at Maldwyn, but she did not back

away. Nor did she go silent. When she continued, her voice did not tremble, though her small hands still did. “We would thank

you for your gift of Mona and Sunne. We did not do so earlier today as we should have.”

“Yes, thank you, Horse Master,” added Ceri, nodding so enthusiastically that her whole body bobbed and her sleeping pup grunted.

Maldwyn bowed his head. “It is my pleasure to bring you such gifts. Moon and sun—you have named them well.”

“Mine is Mona.” Ceri lifted the pup, who continued to grunt in annoyance before she buried her muzzle in the crook of Ceri’s

arm.

“And this is Sunne,” said Enfys. As she stroked her pup her gaze finally went to Maldwyn.

“You are doing well with Sunne,” said the warrior. “He would not be resting so easily in your arms were he not full and safe.”

“I will always keep him safe,” said Enfys with a somberness that did not match her thirteen years.

“I believe you,” said Maldwyn.

Holding their pups close to their chests, my daughters nodded to me before turning to climb the stairs to the lodge with Briallen

close behind.

I breathed a long sigh of relief.

“The pups are helping them heal,” said Rhan.

“Yes.” My eyes met Maldwyn’s gaze. “Thank you.”

My horse master’s cheeks flushed. “There is no need to thank me, my queen.”

Cadoc’s bearlike palm slapped Maldwyn on his back. “Well done.”

With a bow to me, Maldwyn returned to his conversation with the old shield.

***

As soon as I could without its being obvious that the queen was retreating, exhausted and sore, I did exactly that—retreated

to my bedchamber and the steaming bath Phaedra had prepared for me. I sank into the tub as my servant handed me a warm mug

of mead mulled with spices that I was pretty sure were going to cause me to sleep, though I didn’t need herbs to do that.

Before Phaedra left me to soak I asked her to send for Rhan. As Phaedra did so, I finished the mug of mead and then settled

back in the hot water. The sounds of women tending to the lodge drifted to me. It was a familiar sound that lulled me so much

that I startled when Phaedra returned with Rhan.

My childhood friend laughed softly. “Remember the Aqua Springs?”

I stood, and Phaedra wrapped me in a hemp cloth and then began combing through my hair as I sat beside my bed and dried. I

rubbed my eyes and yawned sleepily before answering Rhan. “I do. The water was so hot there it almost scalded me.”

“And yet you soaked until you turned the red of ripe strawberries—just like you are now.”

My hand found the heavy torque that rested around my neck. “Do you ever wish you could return?”

“To the Aqua Springs? Of course, but now they are filled with Catuvellauni traitors and Romans,” said Rhan, her expression

twisting in disgust.

“I meant return to our childhood,” I said.

Rhan cocked her head and studied me before she answered. “Not unless I could know then what I do now.”

I met her gaze and thought how foreknowledge could have changed the events of my life, and nodded slowly. “Agreed.” We didn’t

speak again as Phaedra plaited my hair for the night and helped me into my soft sleep shift. “Phaedra, you may go.”

“Yes, my queen.” She bowed and left me alone with Rhan.

I climbed stiffly onto my thick bed pallet and looked up at my old friend. “I would ask that you move into the lodge.”

“As you ask, so will I do,” said Rhan.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t command it. I ask it.” I patted the side of the bed. “Come. Sit.”

Rhan did so, still studying me with that particular way she’d had since she was a child. I used to believe she could see through

my body to my spirit. I realized then that I still believed she could see my spirit.

“Why do you ask me to move into the lodge?”

“Except for Enfys and Ceri, you are the only family I have left. You are also the only person in Tasceni who I know will always

tell me what I should hear and not simply what I want to hear.”

Her lips twitched up into a smile. “That I will.”

“I need my family close,” I said softly.

Rhan reached out and put her hand over mine. “Then I shall happily live in your lodge, my queen, my friend.”

I squeezed her hand in thanks and then winced as I leaned back and my shoulder hit the thick oak headboard.

“Where is that mint paste I heard Maldwyn speak of?” Rhan asked.

I jerked my chin toward the table beside the bed. “There, but I cannot make myself get up to fetch it.”

Rhan laughed as she went to the table and lifted several wooden cups, sniffing each, until she found the correct one. Then

she returned to the bed, and in a voice that sounded exactly as it used to when we’d been girls pretending to be queens speaking

to our beloved subjects, she said, “Roll over so I can rub this on your shoulders and arms and back.”

“Yes, Queen Rhan,” I muttered into my goose-down-stuffed pillow.

She began working the mint salve into my protesting muscles and my healing scars. “You know, I never really believed I’d be

queen of the Trinovantes.”

“No, I did not know that.” I paused and then added, “Well, perhaps I did when you had the vision by the pool, but I didn’t

want to believe it. I wanted us to be queens together—allies of neighboring tribes who visited each other often.”

“And demanded only the best cuts of meat be served to us and draped ourselves in jewels,” continued Rhan. “Though I remember you used to speak of a golden sword you would wield. Even then you were Victory.”

I snorted into my pillow. “If my sword was made of gold, I wouldn’t be Victory. I’d be the queen whose sword was cut in half

by the first iron blade that struck it.”

“You know what I mean. I never wished for any weapons, even gold- or jewel-encrusted ones.”

“What is it you wished for, Rhan?” I asked sleepily. Her strong hands were easing the ache in my arms and shoulders and I

could feel the herbs making my eyelids heavy.

“Perhaps I will tell you one day,” said Rhan softly.

“I will be happy to listen when you choose to tell me.” My eyelids fluttered and I fought to keep them open. “Will I be victorious?

Can the Romans truly be defeated?”

Rhan was silent so long that I thought she would not answer and was almost asleep when she whispered, “You will fulfill Andraste’s

curse. The Romans can be defeated.”

I sighed. “That is good to know.” And then, while her hands continued to soothe my aching muscles, I was pulled into a deep,

dreamless sleep.