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

CHAPTER 2

W ith the ceremony done and the cold evening weather blowing in, we returned to Rigodonum, where the fires burned brightly, bread was baking, meat roasting, and barrels of ale waited in abundance.

My hall was bright and ready for guests. Colorful leaves, late fall berries, and deep gold, red, purple, and orange flowers decorated the hall. Braziers burned, and the air smelled of the heavy spices used in making the honey loaves. Everything was cozy and bright, making the absence of one all the more noticeable.

War had taken me away from Rigodonum when the Cailleach had come for ancient Ulixes, who was more family than housecarl. When we returned home from Setantii lands, we had learned the sorrowful news. At the very least, Hilda said he’d gone to the Otherworld peacefully.

“Didn’t want you to worry,” Hilda had told me. “He told me he’d trained his apprentice well and that young Kamden would make a fine housecarl. Sent you his love, then faded away. We were all there with him.”

One last death had marked a hard year. With the exception of Verbia, my family was gone.

But Ulixes was faithful to the very end. Kamden, the brown-haired, chestnut-colored-eyed young man who’d shadowed Ulixes quietly for the last two years, had stepped into my housecarl’s shoes with incredible deftness.

“The feast is ready, and rooms for the chieftains are prepared, my queen,” Kamden told me, his eyes sparkling. “May I do anything else for you?”

“Everything looks perfect, Kamden. Thank you.”

“My queen,” he said, bowing deeply, his cheeks flushing red momentarily. He turned and bowed to Cormag, giving my husband a quivering smile, then headed off.

Cormag smirked as he watched him go. “The boy is in love with you.”

“Nonsense. He is merely trying to do well at his work.”

“As you say,” Cormag said with a grin, stroking my long locks. “Even your hair is cold, Cartimandua. The plain gave us a wonder to behold, but the wind lingers. Come by the fire.”

With that, Cormag led me to a seat at the table closest to the hearth. When I settled in at the table, I realized I felt insatiably hungry. I loaded up my plate, looking forward to the Samhain feast, while Cormag sat back and nursed a mug of ale as he eyed the room.

Fergus, who was never far from me, curled up at my feet.

“Looking for scraps already? I haven’t even begun,” I told the dog.

He whimpered and thumped his tail.

“You’ve turned my hunting companion into a ladies’ lap dog,” Cormag told me.

“He just likes me better.”

“No doubt,” Cormag replied with a grin, his eyes flicking across the room. “The Carvetti are coming.”

I paused in my reach for a delicious-looking bite of honey-baked apple. Feeling annoyed at the interruption, I sat back in my seat and prepared myself as Venu and Alys approached.

“Queen Cartimandua, King Consort Cormag,” Venu said, bowing deeply.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Aedan and the other chieftains whispering with one another as they watched Venu.

“Merry met and blessed Samhain,” I told them.

“And to you, Queen Cartimandua, King Consort Cormag. We were honored to join you on the plain this year. All say the moonrise is without comparison, but it is one thing to hear of it and another to see. A far cry from the simple bonfires and druid chants in Luguvalium.”

I gave Venu a soft smile. “I am glad you are with us.”

“It is a new year. A new start in all things. Don’t you agree, my wife?” Venu asked Alys, taking her hand and placing a kiss thereon.

“Yes. Very new,” she replied tartly, then pulled her hand away.

Venu gave her a brief but sharp glance, then smiled at me again. “We are grateful, Cartimandua.”

I met his gaze, exchanging a knowing look. Perhaps his wife was not so thrilled by the new alignments of power, but Venu was trying.

“We must talk about the Carvetti’s perpetration for the winter,” I said, knowing well that the late King Cuneda cared little for his people. As long as he, personally, was well stocked, it did not matter much if his people starved. My reallocating of fertile Carvetti lands to the Dardani and Novantae would also cause a lean winter.

Venu smiled lightly and inclined his head to me. “My queen.”

“I would not see the Carvetti people starve due to the poor choices of their masters.”

“And does King Eddin feel the same? Will he aid us if need be?” Alys asked pertly. “As I understand it, much of the Carvetti’s crops of wheat, fields of cattle, and apple orchards are now in the Dardani’s hands.”

“You mean returned to the Dardani’s hands,” I said with a light smile. “King Eddin is under no obligation to offer you any aid. You are Brigantes now, and I will ensure you endure the hard winter without unnecessary hardship.”

“Of course,” she replied with a forced smile.

Venu gave his wife a warning glance and then turned back to me. “It was an honor to see the moonrise on the new year that the henge, Queen Cartimandua. May it be a dawning of a new and better time for us all,” he said, then bowed to me, gave Cormag a polite nod, then turned and gestured to Alys that it was time to leave.

Alys curtsied and then turned to depart.

So much for that smirking, jovial girl I had met at my father’s funeral games who was so eager to win Venu’s attention from me.

As they went, I saw Venu take her arm and lean into her ear. The expression on his face told me that Alys’s sharp tongue would not go unchecked. Although I found Alys’s pettiness agitating, I did not like the way Venu gripped his wife.

Cormag watched them go but said nothing. In his gaze, I saw mistrust. Many thought I had made a mistake in letting Venu live, but it was foolish to believe I had let Venu slip away unfettered. He was alive. He was the chieftain of his tribe. But the Carvetti were a prideful lot. I had broken them, and not all creatures surrender when wounded. I would have to rely on Venu to keep his tribe in check. That would be no easy task. I had spared the man I once loved, but the burden I had given him in the process was a heavy one to bear.

I sighed heavily, then returned to the baked apples, serving myself a hearty portion. Taking a bite, I relished the sweet, spiced treat, forgetting my troubles in the moment.

Cormag eyed me as I ate. After a time, he smiled softly and set his hand lovingly across my shoulders.

“What is it?”

“There is honey and fresh bread,” he told me. “Shall I get you some?”

I nodded.

Smiling to himself, he rose, pausing to kiss me on the head before flagging down a kitchen maid.

Momentarily puzzled at his gesture, I paused and looked at my plate. It was heaped as tall as Chieftain Andoc’s platter. I was glad Ystradwel was not here. Her constant side glances and sneering had always kept me in check. How often had I left the feasting hall hungry simply to escape Ystradwel’s silent judgment? In Cormag’s warming presence, a relaxed side of myself was emerging. Apparently, that side of me was hungry.

With a shrug, I dug in again, but my mind drifted to Ystradwel. She had sent a messenger asking my permission to remain at Bell’s Harbor for Samhain. Her father’s health had taken a turn for the worse, and she feared he would die soon. Cam would soon be gone, and Ystradwel would take her father’s place. It would be up to her to quiet any remaining Setantii defectors. Could she manage it?

Along my western coast, I had two destabilized lands.

And between them, Eddin, whose absence I felt so keenly, I found it hard to force myself to ignore it.

“Smile, Queen Cartimandua, or that Parisii snake may think she has unsettled you,” Corva said as she sat beside me.

Smiling, I laughed loudly. “Better?”

“Yes. Remember, whatever she sees, her father will know. Make sure she sees exactly what you want her to see, now and in the future.”

Cormag returned a moment later with another platter of chicken, a servant following him with bread and honey. He offered some to Corva, but she waved it away, her eyes scanning the room.

Saying nothing, Cormag set the platter before me, the servant leaving the bread and honey. A bemused expression on Cormag’s face, he sat once more, gave Fergus a bite to eat, and then leaned forward to talk with Damhan and Brodi. The trio had switched to a language I didn’t know. Whatever they were talking about, Brodi and Damhan seemed to be teasing Cormag, which made him laugh.

Corva, on the other hand, looked positively stoic. “You will meet with them in the morning before they depart?” she asked, her eyes on the chieftains.

I nodded. “Winter is upon us. I will ensure they are ready,” I said, my gaze going from Chieftain Brennan, who had been working hard to restore Mydils, to Venu, who sat beside Chieftain Andoc. Andoc looked decidedly uncertain about the Carvetti prince, but Venutiux was putting on a charm offensive.

“You have shown them both your terror and your mercy. You are a good queen, Cartimandua,” Corva told me.

“My grandfather Bellnorix would say my mercy was a mistake.”

“Did he not show mercy to Old Cam?” Corva replied.

“Whose people just rebelled,” I answered.

“But not Cam himself.” The tone in Corva’s voice told me she was also left with questions. There was also disquiet in my heart over the Setantii. Had Cam told me the entire truth?

I gave Corva a knowing look.

She merely nodded.

Sighing, I turned and grabbed a hot round of bread, slathering it with butter and honey. I considered the item for a moment, then added some apple butter. On further thought, a hunk of cheddar and a heap of roasted chicken seemed like perfect accompaniments.

As I chewed my delicious concoction, I realized Corva was giving me a questioning look.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing, my queen,” she replied, her gaze drifting to Cormag, who had placed his hands behind his head and looked out at the room, smiling.

“It’s delicious. Want me to make you one?” I asked Corva.

She laughed. “Decidedly not.”

“Your loss,” I told her, then settled back in my seat again, wondering what I could eat next.

“All our gain, I suspect,” Corva mumbled with a wry grin but didn’t elaborate.

Ignoring her, I turned back to the table. Now, where had that Roman garum gone?