Iceni

Chapter 3-3

No, she banished such thoughts. She was Queen and Priestess, nothing could be hidden from her. If there were concealment she would reveal it, if corruption she would cleanse it. The Goddess didn’t work by manipulation and falsehoods but with clarity and cooperation. There’d be no reason to use anything other than honesty in requiring Boudicca to participate in whatever plans had been concocted, she was bound to the Goddess and virtually obliged to do as She asked. Whatever, she had faith too, and now she simply had to trust there was some larger scheme, of which she was aware of only the tiniest part. She was dependent on the expectation that all would be revealed when it was right.

Grania had calmed a little. Instead of the racking sobs that shook her whole body, she sniffled and whimpered quietly. ‘Mama, mama, you do love me, don’t you.’

‘Oh, yes, Grania mine. Of course I love you. What made you think I might not?’

‘I thought you loved Maeve more than me. You’re with her so often and now she seems so Gifted in the way you wanted me to be.’

‘Grania, Grania, daughter mine.’ Boudicca was embarrassed, she’d never meant to give Maeve more attention, it was just that her need had seemed more desperate. ‘We all thought you were coping so well. It’s only now we have a chance to be alone that you’re starting to tell me that wasn’t the case. Maeve has seemed so much weaker than you, but you’ve been strong and without you I couldn’t have coped in the last few days. Your strength and energy has been truly indispensable. I am very proud of you.

‘See, Grania mine, you have gifts in areas where Maeve is very lacking. Even the talents you do see Maeve perform are not honed and trained. They’re raw, which can be a very dangerous thing. She doesn’t consider the outcome of showing her Gifts, she just does them. Perhaps she’s no longer able to exercise such consideration. Perhaps there’s very little of Maeve still there and most of her spirit has been subsumed by the prophecy of the Goddess. What if she were to show someone their future, and if that same someone were to see themselves meet a cowardly end? Think what it would do to that person, how it might destroy them inside, how it might provoke them into enacting the same events that led to the ignoble acts. No, daughter mine, half the skill in using the Gifts which Maeve has is knowing when it is appropriate to use them and when it is wiser to leave them be. In many ways, it is more Blessed to be bereft of the Gifts than to use them unknowingly.’

Grania clutched at Boudicca tightly. ‘Thank you, mama. But there is still a pulling inside of me. Do I vent what is within or continue to fight?’

Boudicca paused, torn between her own doubts and the Goddess-guidance. ‘You must let it go, Grania mine. I’ll share the consequences with you and hold you when I’m able, but I don’t recognise the like of which you are releasing.’

Grania slumped against her. ‘I’ve done so and I feel light inside and rather empty. It’s soothing to no longer be fighting against your own self. I feel ready to go back now.’

Go back. How? Boudicca hadn’t noted the route she had taken. She doubted very much whether Grania had either. She’d rather hoped that Grania might be so exhausted she’d need to sleep until daylight.

Boudicca stood, walked silently out of the cave and looked around. She listened too. She could hear nothing, no campfire chatter, nor could she see the rosy glow of warming embers that must be far off between the trees. She smelled for the scent of wood-smoke upon the breeze. Nothing. She wondered whether Grania had coppiced this far and how well she might have become acquainted with the forest, but there was plenty of birch still around at this point and she had no wish to alarm Grania with the possibility that they might be lost.

She could, she reminded herself, Find her way back, but her earlier experiences at trying to Find the forge had lowered her confidence and she doubted her ability not to lose them both even further. She also knew that the best way to counter those feelings was to tackle her dread head-on and attempt another Finding immediately.

‘It’s this way, Grania. Would you like me to support you?’

‘No mama. But I’ll hold your hand so we don’t lose each other.’

Together they moved out into the night, as stealthy as foxes, seeing by the minimal light of the moon, Her two horns glowing with white light to cast ethereal shadows over the blue landscape. Boudicca set a slow pace, concerned not to let herself wander even further should she fail to Find. She concentrated on the clarity she desired. Then remembered not to concentrate, but to relax. Then her mind fidgeted, alerting her to the forest dangers and producing predators to match the creeping sounds around. She slowed her breathing which had speeded to panic and started Finding again. She searched for the necessary mental clearness, tried too hard and blanked her mind again. She felt for the path she wanted, pictured it, held it, then lost it.

Ahead she heard a different sound, a slow, patient lumbering. She reinforced her Wards, placing them around Grania too. The lumbering paused, then approached more cautiously. ‘Mama,’ Boudicca turned to looked at her daughter. ‘It’s a bear, mama. Can you stop it from coming too close? I don’t fancy wrestling a bear in the dark — there won’t be enough people to watch and inform the Bard of my struggles so I can be immortalised in song. Without that, who’ll believe my boasting?’

Boudicca didn’t know why she had turned to look at Grania. She should have realised there wouldn’t be enough light to see her face. Perhaps it had been habit, perhaps politeness, perhaps an instinctual action to better her hearing of Grania’s words. Whatever, she was instantly relieved she had done so. There, behind, quite a way off, back through the clawing trees, moved a thin, yellowing light. She squinted to see at such a distance and nudged Grania. ‘Is it a torch?’

‘No, mama, the flame is the wrong shape to be a torch.’

Boudicca thought of the stories of will-o-the-wisps and corpse lights she’d been told about as a child. She hoped Grania hadn’t thought of them too. She pulled her daughter down into a crouch. They couldn’t go forward and they couldn’t go back. Boudicca increased the Wards around them and imagined themselves both cloaked in invisibility. They would wait out the twin threats.

The distant light bobbed towards them, weaving its way through the trees but still taking an almost direct line towards them. Whatever it was seemed to know they were there. The clumsy lumbering, too, increased to include a snuffling panting and the crack of snapping bracken. Then, so near, a sniffing as if to define their hiding place, and finally silence.

Boudicca and Grania stayed motionless, holding each other tightly for reassurance. Warriors both, they stilled their fluttering hearts to ease their rising panic and shallowed their breathing. Their presence was barely perceptible. All that moved was their eyes, and those they had shielded with hair to prevent the light from reflecting off them and betraying their presence.

They could see enough though to watch Maeve approach, hands cupped around a soft wavering light, as if she held a burning sea coal, but much, much brighter. She brought illumination with her as if bearing a gift. A couple of paces from Boudicca and Grania’s hiding place Maeve paused and turned, revealing a prone bear. Massive in bulk with a long coat and intelligent beady eyes, the bear lay upon the ground as if waiting in supplication. It sat up on Maeve’s approach, holding eye contact, and then dropped to its prone position again. Then it turned to look directly at Boudicca and Grania, sat up, nodded its head twice as if directly at them, then dropped back to the floor again. Maeve stood as if she were only there to provide the light, holding her hands up to provide optimum visibility. Then the bear pulled itself to its feet, shaking its weight, and lumbered off past them, each step chorused by the tearing of tendrils and the crunch of dry leaves. Maeve held the witch-light higher and it brightened, showing the bear shovel off to the cave.

Maeve turned serenely and walked back the way she’d come. She took the light with her and the trees opened before her and the paths cleared. ‘We must keep up, she’s Finding. We should be back soon,’ Boudicca hissed, hauling Grania up and pulling her along as they scrambled after Maeve.

As they dusted themselves off, running along to catch up, Boudicca felt like a naughty child who’d been caught by an overly-wise parent and was being punished by being ignored. A crime so heinous could not be acknowledged, let alone mentioned, and for some reason she felt guilty. Then she thought back to what she’d done and realised there was no manifest fault, it was simply that Maeve’s behaviour was so superior it was triggering such responses without her realising why. Maeve’s poor, confused behaviour was probably not intended that way at all, but Boudicca’s automatic response afforded her insight into why Grania had reacted so extremely. Now Boudicca grabbed Grania’s hand and laughed, trotting after the elusive Maeve with childish conspiracy.

‘I wish I had wrestled that bear,’ Grania said with pride. ‘It looked docile enough to take on single-handedly, especially for someone of my strength. There may have been no one to see, but we could have dragged the carcass, or at least the skins, home between the two of us. Think of the stories they’d have told of me then! And I could wear the furs into battle — how fearsome I would be — and I would make the Romani quake when they saw me come hollowing at them in battle-lust.’

‘Grania mine, I do declare you’re getting some of your visionary powers back. A little more practice and you’ll be as Gifted at imagining what you desire as Bride Herself.’

‘There’s never any harm in dreaming,’ Grania joked.

That comment halted Boudicca’s jovial mood, reminding her of the black visions which had haunted her sleep in recent days. ‘Now that,’ she conceded, not wishing to upset Grania, ‘depends upon what you dream.’

Boudicca caught up with Maeve just as they arrived back at the clearing by the forge. The distance hadn’t been far, and had certainly been nowhere near the length of the outward journey they’d made. Apart from anything else, they approached the Iceni camp from a different direction to the one they’d left, and from that Boudicca gleaned a little more of the complexities and nuances of Finding. She stopped Maeve with a gentle touch and turned her around. Maeve still wore the same vacant expression.

‘Maeve, daughter mine, do you understand what went on back there, with the bear?’ Boudicca asked.

Maeve nodded, and went to turn and continue. ‘I want to go and wash now,’ she pleaded.

Boudicca held her more firmly. ‘How did you learn to do that thing with your hands? That light thing?’ Maeve shrugged and opened her hands for her mother to inspect them. There was nothing there. No burns, no scarring, not even any reddening of the skin. Nothing to indicate that anything peculiar had happened.

Boudicca paused, exasperated. ‘I’ve got to see Lovernios,’ she stated to both young women. ‘I suggest you both get some sleep. Perhaps you could keep each other warm?’ She left Maeve and Grania looking at each other, both undecided about what to do, fearing rejection yet so painfully needing each other. They approached from two different worlds, Boudicca knew, but it would take knowledge of both realms to survive in the days to come.

Lovernios awaited her at the forge fires. He stood in welcome, his eyes widening at her arrival and an unnecessarily warm smile playing on his lips. ‘You were gone a long while. I was quite concerned.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ he paused, thinking. ‘Because without you, I... things can’t proceed. You’re the linchpin of our plans. Without you, lives, homes, gold and land will have been sacrificed without reason. There are a lot of things, and many people, who depend on you.’

‘So, I’ve little choice in helping you. What’re your plans?’

‘Immediately?’ Lovernios asked, Boudicca nodded. ‘There are still more outlying Iceni to the north and east, right on the coast at Branodunum and Gariannum. We’ll call those in. They live on the outskirts of the forests so I’ll arrange for them to be brought here by Finding, that should bring them in very quickly.’

‘Arrange? What do you mean?’

‘There are more Druids who’d join with us. They camp alone in the forests at present, roaming the countryside in isolation, on the Goddess’ errands, safe from all but the Romani. They could be Called in an instant. They are mages and translators. You heard what Addedomarus said about the Romani — they’re superstitious and scared of what we can do with our minds. We know how it’s possible to live, using the best of both worlds, how a fuller awareness can take away fear. They don’t have that awareness. They live entirely in the material world and are very easy to frighten. We could do a lot of damage to the Romani without even leaving the forest. Half the battle is already won with the Romani massed at Insula Mona, another quarter could be won with ‘omens and portents’. Maeve would accomplish that very easily with her Skills.

‘Also there are Trinovantes who live amongst the Romani. They could help too; they’ll certainly keep us informed. And they’re ready to rise against their enemy. Together your host would outnumber the Romani at Camulodunum by ten to every one. They’re old soldiers, your victory would be as easy as squeezing the neck of a goose at Yule, when you hunger for food to comfort the winter snows. That’d be a sore blow against the Romani — it’s their model city, their showpiece, and it would hurt their pride to lose that. Other Celtoi would flock to you then. The host would number whole tribes, and you could choose your next target at leisure. The easiest pickings perhaps, or the most challenging combat? The odd defended fort? Their mewling little harbour at Londinium? Whole legions in their battle plumage? You could even see if you could identify those who perpetrated the outrages upon you, hunt for familiar faces. Then there’s the Catuvellauni nobles swanning around at Verulamium in their summer clothing, enjoying their leisure and their Romani bribes. Yes, you’d like to destroy some of the Catuvellauni, wouldn’t you? There are many, many others who share your hatred. Together you’d be unstoppable.’

Boudicca was tempted. She didn’t want to let Lovernios know that and give him the advantage. ‘I don’t like you using Maeve like this. She should be able to choose.’

‘She does know what she’s doing, madam, be assured of that. She communicates constantly, if only you’d listen. Of all of us, you have the most difficult task, straddling both worlds and keeping them in equilibrium within. At least for everyone else it doesn’t matter if they become unbalanced in this way. I do appreciate how difficult it must be to pay equal attention to both ways of knowing, but you must try, otherwise Andraste...’ He paused. ‘Andraste won’t Manifest as She should.’

Boudicca stared at him in disbelief. ‘That’s what’s happening, then, isn’t it? Isn’t it?’ she demanded. ‘You’re using me to invoke Andraste, using my body, my mind, as a vehicle for Her to Manifest in the world. That’s why I have these rages and fits of confusion.’

Lovernios calmed her with a simple gesture. ‘We’re not using you, madam — not the Druids, not I. Andraste chose you. It just took us a while to recognise who She’d chosen. Personally, I was only certain after I saw your torc.’

‘So, if She wasn’t me, and I wasn’t Her, you wouldn’t be helping the Iceni now in their revenge against the Romani? We’d just be cast off like all the other Celtoi tribes who’ve suffered?’

‘I don’t wish to get involved in ‘what ifs’, madam. First of all, Andraste only chose you because you were receptive to her. Your anger, your desire to destroy, to ‘devour’, you said yourself must have been so strong that you opened floodgates in your spirit which might have been held shut by others. You have tremendous powers for one who walks the paths of reality, but it’s not to be unexpected — you are Queen and Priestess and Druid trained, it’s a volatile combination. Whatever, you opened those depths and you called upon that dark inner strength. Now you’ll need Guides, like me, to control what you’ve unleashed.’

Boudicca slumped in awareness and resignation at what must be. ‘At least,’ she comforted herself, ‘it’s not my daught...’ She sat up in horror and realisation. ‘She’s within Maeve and Grania, too, isn’t She?’

Lovernios nodded. ‘They offered suitable ‘hospitality’ too. They can be helped to channel the Divine also.’

‘If they accept help.’ She finished Lovernios’ sentence for him. She was thinking of Grania. He nodded again. ‘Who are you?’

‘I am Lovernios the Keeper. Recently graduated Bard of Insula Mona. Respected, shall we say, within the Druidic Council. Prince of Hibernica and Chosen, too, in my own way. I’m here as Guide and perhaps...’ he leaned over to give her a wet kiss which lingered upon her lips. ‘Lover, too?’