Page 23 of Queen of the Hollow Hills (Eagles and Crows #3)

CHAPTER 22

“ I t came on so suddenly,” Brodi said. “Greer went to check on them and discovered they were both burning with fever. Every effort was made, my queen. Prince Cormag,” Brodi said, his eyes growing damp with unshed tears. He shook his head. “Every effort was made.”

“Every effort was made?” Corva asked, sounding confused. “What do you mean?”

I felt my knees go weak. I reached out to Corva, who held on to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amma and Aedan standing in the doorway. Amma gasped at Brodi’s words and looked at her brother. Aedan’s face twisted with pain.

“Are you saying…” Corva asked but did not finish his sentence.

“We called the midwife and the healer. Neither could explain it,” Brodi replied. “Oh, Cartimandua. You must come at once. Cormag is… You must come at once.”

Corva cleared her throat and then asked. “They… They are gone?”

Tears trailed down Brodi’s cheeks. “Yes.”

Corva gasped and then covered her mouth.

I felt nothing. Nothing. “Saddle my horse,” I told Conall. I turned to Corva. “I must get to my family at once.”

“Cartimandua,” Corva whispered.

“Say nothing. Say. Nothing. Saddle my horse, Conall. I will be ready to ride in a few moments.”

Conall dashed the tears from his eyes, then turned and hurried from the room, Aedan following behind him.

“I will help you, my queen,” Lady Amma told me.

“Cartimandua,” Brodi said gently. “I am so?—”

I raised my bandaged hand. “Say nothing,” I whispered, feeling myself sway. “Please.”

Nodding, he turned and left us.

“I will go make ready,” Corva told me, then departed.

Working quickly and quietly, Amma helped me redress. From a spare trunk in the room, she returned with a pair of gloves. “Wear these, your majesty. It will help protect your hands from the pain of the reins.”

I nodded mutely, slipping the gloves on, then turned to her, my mind not working properly. Like a child, I looked to Amma.

“You are ready. Let me help you downstairs,” she said, then took my arm and led me from the room.

We walked slowly, Amma sensing I was holding on to this world by the tips of my fingers.

“When my husband died, I realized I had fallen in love with him quite by accident. He was forty— forty —years my elder, and I had not wanted to marry him. But a quiet love and respect had grown between us. When he left this world, it felt like everything stopped. Aedan and Aerin kept me bound to this life with their love, but that did not make the pain feel any less. To lose a child—nay, children…” Amma said, then paused. “My queen, all our love is with you. Go to your husband now. You will need one another.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, then rolled my shoulders back and straightened my posture.

Night had come once more, but it didn’t matter. All was night now.

Brodi waited with a contingent of guards from Rigodonum. I could see on their faces that they already knew. Some would not look at me. Others looked on, their hearts broken on my behalf. Saying nothing, I went to Branagán and mounted, forcing myself not to wince when my burned hands gripped the saddle.

Amma helped me settle my cloak while Aedan helped with the reins.

“Cartimandua,” Aedan said softly. “My house will follow not long behind you.”

I looked at him, his meaning unclear at first, but then I understood. They would come for the funeral rites. That was what he meant. They would come for the rites, where I would bury my baby daughters.

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

I turned to Conall and Brodi, nodding that I was ready.

Shaken, her long red hair still unbound, Corva reined in beside me.

Brodi clicked to his horse, and we moved out at once.

I rode away from Isurium Brigantum, from the Claws of the Cailleach, from that place where I had stepped between the Lady of Winter and her blood sacrifice, sparing the lives of two innocent young girls in the process. Using ancient arts, I had infected the mind of a Roman emperor, driving him from this land without ever lifting a blade. I had succeeded in the impossible.

And so doing, I had enraged the Cailleach.

She had told me I would pay a price.

I had not known what she meant.

How could I have ever known?

Blood was paid in the end.

Mine.

My blood. My line. My daughters.

My actions had killed my daughters.

I would never be the same.

We rode throughout the night, arriving in a darkened Rigodonum sometime just before dawn. While Kamden, Hilda, and Damhan were awake to greet us, the house was otherwise quiet.

“Where is Cormag?” I asked Damhan.

“In your chamber with the princesses, Queen Cartimandua,” he replied sadly.

As I left to join the others, I heard Corva ask Hilda, “Did the fever that took the princess affect others in the fort?”

“No, Priestess. It came upon the princesses suddenly. No others got sick.”

“Little Heather?”

“No, Priestess. Arixus and Violet both saw the princesses. No one can explain it.”

Corva did not need to ask. The Cailleach had taken her sacrifice. In my desire to protect my people, I had doomed my children.

How could I face Cormag?

How could I tell him what I had done?

The edge of grief wanted to overwhelm me, but I pushed it back.

Nothing mattered more than getting to Cormag now.

I hurried up the stairs, rushing down the hallway.

But when I got to the door, I paused. Closing my eyes a moment, I braced myself…for our shared pain, for what Cormag might feel when I told him this was my doing. I wanted to throw myself from the highest window. Exhaling a low breath, I pushed open the door.

It was dark inside. Braziers burned, casting the room in an orange glow.

I did not see Cormag at first, but then I spotted him. He sat on the floor, his back against the bed, his eyes fixed on…

On a table near the window were two wrapped bundles, flowers strewn and braziers burning around them.

I closed the door behind me and quietly entered the room.

My stomach clenched as I looked from Cormag to my girls.

My legs were weak and my knees shaking, so I walked over to the table on which they had been laid.

Someone had dressed them both in beautiful gowns and wrapped their bodies in white linens trimmed with moons and stars embroidered in silver and gold. The tiny diadems Ystradwel had sent sat on their heads, flowers decorating their bodies. A sheer white drape had been laid over them, muffling the effect of their stillness.

My body began to quake, and a moment later, a moan came from me that sounded inhuman.

And then, I wept, and wept, and wept, and wept.

Cormag rose and came to me, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me close to him. He pressed his head against mine, and the two of us merely cried, my body shaking.

When I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I turned to Cormag, pressing my face against his chest as I struggled to take a breath.

“Oh, my love,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

I closed my eyes, felt his hand gently rubbing my back, and tried to catch my breath.

In then out.

In then out.

After a long time, my breath grew steady, and I merely wept.

Cormag held me close.

When I finally calmed, he whispered, “I…I am so sorry,” he said, his voice wavering. “You left them in my care. You thought they would be safe with me. And I… It happened so fast. Oh, Carti. I am so heartbroken and so sorry.”

I pulled him close, my heart aching, then whispered, “There is something I must tell you.”

I told him everything. I told him about the Claws of the Cailleach, the girls who had come as sacrifice to the Cailleach, the rite, what the Cailleach had whispered to me, and what I had seen in Gaul.

“It is not your fault,” I whispered between sobs. “It is mine . I intervened where I should not have, and the Cailleach took our daughters as payment.”

“No,” Cormag whispered. “No, Carti. It is not your fault. You did what you thought was right, saving those girls.”

“I just… When I saw those girls, I saw Regan and Aelith. I could not let them die for this cause. I thought, because I am queen, I would be enough. But the Cailleach… I doomed our daughters.”

Cormag leaned back and met my gaze. “Would the Cailleach take her own blood as payment? I am her son. Do you really think she would sacrifice her own granddaughters?”

“She was so…angry.”

“That is the dark lady, and she is fearsome to behold. Children…” he said, then looked back to our girls. “Sometimes, children die. We cannot know the cause,” he said, then shook his head. “Or so they tell me. I sent for the healer, the midwife. Everyone did what they could. We could not reach Onnen’s people or mine. It was so sudden. Even Verbia did not know what to do. Aye, Carti… I am so sorry. I lost our daughters. You cannot blame yourself.”

“Nor can you blame yourself. Oh, my love. Our little daughters are gone…”

We both wept once more, holding each other tightly, feeling like our heartbreak would never end.

By nightfall the next day, Onnen arrived, too late to help but in time to see to the rites for the princesses. I let Corva and the others handle the details while Cormag and I found ourselves lost in a bewildering blur of anguish.

It was very late in the evening when there was a knock on the door.

“Cartimandua?” Corva called gently.

I was sitting beside the open window casement. My daughters had been moved from the room and taken by the priestesses who would prepare them for their rites.

Cormag lay sleeping in bed. His head had been aching badly. After hours of tossing and turning, he finally rested.

I rose and went to the door. Gesturing for Corva to be quiet, I led her into the hallway and away from our chamber door.

“We will hold the rites at sunrise tomorrow. Onnen will see them interred alongside your father. They will be buried together. Some of the chieftains have come. They would not disturb you and Cormag. An advance rider has come from King Eddin. He will be here sometime this night.”

“Very well,” I said, feeling empty.

“I will come for you and Cormag in the morning.”

I merely nodded.

Corva eyed me carefully. “Can I do anything for you, Carti? Can I get you anything? They say you have not eaten…”

“No. Thank you,” I said, then turned to go back to my chamber but paused a moment. “Has M?d come?”

“No. She… There was some discussion between her and Onnen. It was decided that Onnen and the priestesses of Brigantia would see to the rites.”

I nodded once more, then made my way back to my chamber.

I entered quietly, then slipped into bed beside Cormag.

“What is it?” he whispered groggily.

“They will be buried by Onnen at sunrise with the rites of Brigantia.”

“Good,” Cormag replied, then drifted back to the void of sleep.

When I woke again, Corva, Hilda, and Damhan were in the bedchamber, moving about as silently as possible.

“My queen,” Corva whispered. “It is time.”

I woke slowly, setting my hand on Cormag’s shoulder to rouse him. He sat up sleepily, then went with Damhan to change.

“My lady,” Hilda said, her eyes looking red and puffy. She gestured to the black dress she had set out for me.

Feeling hollow, I followed her and went to change.

Everything felt so distant, so far away from me. It was like I was watching myself from above. I saw myself preparing, letting Hilda brush my hair, dress me in a black gown, and set a ringlet on my head. I saw that Cormag, too, had been dressed in black and that Damhan had painted his eyes with heavy kohl, which the Votadini man also wore. Like a mask to hide his pain, Cormag was a crow once more. And again, I was the grieving Brigantes lady who was beginning to feel as though my life would be forever surrounded by death.

We left the fort in darkness and rode across the landscape to the plain beyond the henge of the three sisters. Brodi, who had also marked his face with kohl, rode alongside Damhan.

This loss wasn’t just Brigantes. The Votadini, too, had lost their princesses.

At the plain, the priestesses and others waited beside the smallest grave I had ever seen.

But what both surprised and moved me was the enormity of people who had gathered. Hundreds had come to see my daughters to the Otherworld. Amongst the crowd, I saw familiar faces of the people of Rigodonum, and along with them, my chieftains—including Venutiux and Alys, Ystradwel and Lord Gregor, Aedan and Amma, and with them, Eddin.

To my surprise, I also found that Queen Mael Muire had come with a delegation of Votadini.

I looked up at Cormag, who had also noticed his mother’s presence, but he said nothing.

When our party arrived, Onnen and two other white-robed priestesses of Brigantia made their way through the crowd to join us.

“My queen,” Onnen said, bowing deeply. “King Consort Cormag. The sun will rise soon, opening the gateway between this world and the next. Come. We shall call upon the ancestors to help your daughters make their way to the next life.”

Ignoring the pain in my hands, I took Cormag’s hand, and we followed behind the priestess.

When we passed Queen Mael Muire, she stepped forward, embracing Cormag. She whispered something in his ear and then bent his head so she could kiss him on the forehead. She then did the same to me.

“May all the gods bring you comfort, Daughter,” she whispered to me, then stepped back.

Swallowing hard, I made my way behind Onnen once more.

We walked forward to the open mound.

As I looked at the gaping edifice, I felt like I was looking into a wound in my own heart. How could my tiny daughters, with their bright smiles and warm, soft bodies, be in the cold ground? The idea that they lay there in the earth, their bodies chilled, made me ache. There was nothing I could do to bring them warmth. Nothing I could do to make them smile again, to feel their soft breath on my cheek, the press of their cheeks against my chest. They were gone.

No.

Taken.

A bed of flowers had been made for my daughters. Beautiful ornaments had been laid beside them: goblets, platters, jewels, rich fabrics, and even the tiny rattles and other toys they had played with.

As we neared the front of the crowd, I spotted Greer for the first time. Her eyes were red, her face puffy as she wept. Beside her, Fabius whispered words of comfort, but I saw that he, too, cried.

I stopped to greet her, kissing her on the cheek.

“Oh, my queen,” she whispered.

I gently squeezed her arm and then moved on.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aedan, Amma, Venu, and all the rest looking at me. Eddin was looking my way, but I could not meet his gaze. I knew that I would crack.

Cormag and I joined Onnen as the sky glowed purple, the horizon trimmed pink and gold.

We stood before our daughters’ grave as Onnen lifted her hands, silencing the crowd. Behind us, the priestesses began ringing silver bells. The sound cut through the early morning sky and the mist rising off the plain where wildflowers grew.

I gazed at my father’s tomb.

Father, be with them. Guide and care for them.

“Brigantes, friends,” Onnen called. “We have come today to share in grief and in love with Queen Cartimandua and King Consort Cormag. We can never know why the gods choose to take the young and innocent. Princess Regan and Princess Aelith were but new flowers, blooming in spring only to have their lives cut short. Brigantia, Lady of Summer and mother of us all, we call you amongst us this morning as we say goodbye to our princesses and bid them a safe journey to the Otherworld and the next life beyond.”

Again, the priestesses rang their bells and began to chant, but my mind drifted as I stared at my daughters, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Brigantia, watch over them. Hold them in your arms. Deliver them to my father. Watch over my daughters. Brigantia…please… Brigantia, be merciful. I am a mother whose children are gone…

I choked down a sob then clung to Cormag, who held me tight as the priestesses sang and chanted, calling on all the good things of our world…upon bees and flowers, upon sunlight and rainbows, upon butterflies and hares, to travel with my daughters to the Otherworld.

The lament continued, but I no longer heard the priestess’s words. I stared, instead, at the small bodies in the earth.

Cailleach… Why did you take them? Why did you do this to me?

The trumpet of a carnyx startled me.

“Let’s come away,” Cormag whispered to me. “The others will leave their funerary gifts. We do not have to stay, Cartimandua. A tent has been erected for us on the game fields above.

“They will not… They will not hold games, will they?”

“No. I have not permitted it. There will be a feast in our daughter’s honor at midday, but that is all. And we do not have to attend.”

Moving off with our guard, we made our way away from the field where the girls were buried to the plain above. There, I saw that many tents had been erected. This was where the chieftains and others had come to make camp.

Feeling empty, we made our way to the tent that flew the black-and-white banners of the Brigantes. Cormag led me inside, away from the crowd, and to a chair by the fire. “I will find us something to drink,” he told me, then disappeared.

Corva appeared a few moments later. I looked up at her, realizing she had dark circles under her eyes. “Cartimandua, what do you want me to tell the others? Many wish to give their condolences.”

“I will join them midday,” I said flatly.

Corva nodded. “Very well, my queen,” she said, then departed.

Cormag returned a few moments later, ales in his hand. He handed me a mug, then moved his chair beside mine and took my hand. We sat in complete silence, feeling like our world had shifted from under us.

Feeling like little more than a ghost, Cormag and I joined the others in a massive tent on the game fields. There, all the chieftains and royals had joined together. The scent of roasting meat made my stomach feel nauseous. When we entered the tent. The servants stilled, and those gathered grew silent.

Cormag and I walked to the front of the space.

I rolled my shoulders back, cleared my throat, and then met Cormag’s gaze.

He nodded to me.

I turned to the crowd. “Brigantes and dear friends. Thank you all for coming today to honor Regan and Aelith. Cormag and I thank you for joining us at this difficult moment. To see your faces, here to give love and support… We are truly honored by your enduring friendship. We have lost and the wound is deep, but the stars still shine overhead. We will grieve, and we will carry forth. And we do in gratitude for your love and honor. Thank you.”

The crowd called out to us…

“Condolences, my queen, king consort…”

“Our deep sorrows, Queen Cartimandua and King Consort Cormag.”

“May the goddesses be with you both.”

I gestured for the servants to serve the meal, then took my seat at the head of the table. Cormag sat at my side, his mother beside him. Mael Muire took his hand, then leaned toward him, kissing him on the side of his head.

Taking a steadying breath, I turned and looked at Eddin, who sat on my other side.

Eddin met and held my gaze. Saying nothing, he reached for my hand but paused when he saw the bandages. Instead, he set his hand on my forearm. “May Brigantia bring you comfort,” he whispered to me.

Swallowing hard, I nodded, willing the tears welling in my eyes not to fall.

But I failed.

I dashed the hot tears from my cheeks, lifted my goblet, and sat back in my seat, half-listening as the others spoke. Finally, my eyes settled on Ystradwel. She looked far thinner than the last time I had seen her but was still as beautiful as ever. She was deep in conversation with Lord Gregor. The lord, noting my gaze, whispered to Ystradwel, who turned to me.

“Cartimandua,” she said softly.

“I am glad to see you again after all this time, Lady Ystradwel.”

“I am sorry I could not come sooner,” she said sincerely. “My queen… I have no words for your loss.”

“Nor I, Ystradwel, but I am glad to see you,” I told her, then looked at those closest to me. “All of you,” I told them, my gaze settling on Venu.

The others lifted their cups in toast, answering me in kind, but Venu smiled softly at me, his glance warm and full of sympathy.

I sat back in my seat once more and remained in silence, watching as the others ate and drank. The servants filled my plate, but I could not eat.

“Cartimandua, will you not try something?” Corva, standing protectively behind me, whispered in my ear.

I shook my head. “My head aches.”

“You should rest,” Eddin told me. “You do not need to linger, Carti. All here know you and Cormag are much grieved. No one will find fault in it.”

I turned to Cormag, who had heard Eddin’s words.

“I will stay a time, but if you wish to retire, please do not delay,” Cormag told me.

I nodded, then rose. “My friends,” I said, my knees feeling weak. “Thank you for coming to honor my daughters. Your presence is a great comfort, but I will withdraw now,” I told them, then turned and left, Corva accompanying me.

I was halfway back to the tents when I heard someone call my name.

“Cartimandua?”

I looked back to find Venu approaching.

Corva paused while I turned back to rejoin my old friend.

“Venu,” I said softly.

“I will not hold you. I know your heart is broken,” he said, searching my face. “You saved me, more than once, in the worst moments in my life. I just wanted to tell you that I am here for you if you need anything. I am at your beck and call, not just because you are queen, but as your friend, Carti. If you need anything , you may rely on me.”

“Thank you, Venutiux.”

We stood there for a long time, and then he leaned in and embraced me. “Carti,” he whispered. “I am always here for you.” He held me tightly for a long moment, then let me go.

I turned and rejoined Corva, my head aching terribly. I made my way into the tent and went at once to the cot to lie down, feeling like I wanted to die.

“Do you want something stiff to drink?” Corva asked.

“No.”

“Then let me make you a draft so you can sleep unbothered for a time.”

“As much as I would love to embrace oblivion, I will not leave my husband alone in his grief.”

“Very well. I will be close by if you need me.”

“Thank you, Corva,” I said, then paused. “Corva, do not let Ystradwel leave until I’ve spoken to her.”

“Yes, my queen.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the ache behind my eyelids. My little ones were gone. The labor had gone so difficult that the midwife had warned I would never bear again. My daughters were dead, and with them, my line would end.

Everything was in ruin.

May the Cailleach be cursed.