by Beth Webb
In his clearer moments he knew he had spent too long subduing the people of Cymru. He had dealt with the pestilential druids on the island of Mona just after midsummer, and then stayed to destroy everything that smacked of their superstitious claptrap, groves, altars, the lot. That had cost time too. Messengers had warned him of mischief in the east, but he hadn’t believed a mere woman was capable of anything other than being a nuisance.
He’d ordered the IX legion from Durobrivae and sent word to the praefectus Poenius Postumus in Isca Dumnoniorum to send the II Augusta to quash the revolt. But the IX had been ambushed, and a message had come back from Poenius saying he was too busy. All this had taken one and a half precious months.
Suetonius spewed bile into his bucket. The staff in Britain were all fools. Heads would roll for this incompetence – he would see to it – literally and personally.
Autumn was passing and the new garrison on the druids’ island was far from ready. This irritating rebellion meant he’d left Mona in the hands of his subordinates. At least they were men he’d trained himself. He’d enjoyed taking his cohort of cavalry through the mountains. They’d arrived at Deva by the solstice, travelling faster than anyone had thought possible. Only yesterday, or was it last week? His head ached, he couldn’t remember – he’d ordered a full detachment of the XX Legion, the Valeria Victrix to follow him to Londinium, where the infernal woman seemed to be heading.
Delirium toyed with the Governor’s mind. He should be on the road right now. He was on the road, he was riding a horse, but why was he lying down?
His head was a jumble of images.
He had underestimated the revolt. Boudica was obviously just a figurehead; the British had a weak spot for females. Beautiful and desirable they may be, but they were also vicious and unreliable little schemers. He stroked the burn scar down the side of his face. Some girls could fight like badgers given a chance. An angry woman might inspire a rebellion with some balls – but who was the brains behind it all? It smacked of a powerful man, and maybe a druid. They were the nearest these savages had to intellectuals. He’d had a notion they’d not all been killed on the island raid: that idiot of a pularius had let several go.
Once more he saw the dark haired girl. She was dancing, wildly. Dangerous dancing, with magic in it. She swam in and out of focus. Sometimes she was far away swaying to a drumbeat, but then she came close, too close and had fire in her hands …
Suetonius tried to rip the scar from his face. His dreams made him afraid. More afraid than he’d ever been. He hauled himself back onto his bed and flung his blankets to the ground, knocking his sick bucket over.
His skull rattled with an inhuman voice – the same one that had spoken to him on Mona.
I’m your servant, sent by the gods it reminded him. But in exchange, you must bring me the dancing girl.
Suetonius pulled a pillow over his ears. ‘Shut up, can’t you see I’m ill?’ he groaned. ‘I’ll hand her over when I find her, I swear!’
… After I’ve had some fun making her suffer for what she’s done to me, of course, Suetonius vowed silently.
Then he remembered the promises this eerie voice had made …
He sat up in bed and yelled, ‘Hey! You! Servant! Remember, you swore I’d have victory! Here I am sweating like a pig. Do something useful!’
Silence. He was dreaming again. Was this voice part of his fever? By all the gods, he hoped he wasn’t going mad.
Suetonius looked out of his wind-eye at the gathering clouds and shuddered. How he loathed this chilly, miserable land. The voice had once prophesied he’d become Emperor of the north, but that was only the beginning. Once he’d recovered and taken control of Britain, he’d prove his worth.
He’d become Emperor of Rome.
His stomach threatened to invert itself once more.
‘Servant!’ he yelled at the voice in his head, ‘You’d better repair my body or both our causes are lost. The longer I lay here, the more damage that wretched woman Boudica can achieve. You want that girl? I want the rebels crucified. Make me better or you won’t get anything! Do you hear?’
At once, slaves came running in the door with fresh water and clean buckets. ‘Sorry master, who was it you wanted?’
Suetonius just glared at them. ‘Idiots!’ he spat. ‘I wasn’t talking to any of you!’
And from far away, the demon did hear. But it was confused. It wasn’t used to healing, only causing chaos and destruction. However, the human had a point. Something had to be done.
By noon, the governor was sitting up and drinking broth.
By nightfall, he was bellowing orders.
By dawn, he was on the road.
Londinium
Arguments
Tegen was frustrated and angry. For the third time that morning, a troop of thugs left the phalanx of warriors to raid a farmhouse. She rode Epona through the throng until she came alongside the queen’s chariot.
‘This isn’t right my lady, you’re stealing from your own people.’
‘It’s plain you’re new as a battle druid,’ Boudica sneered. ‘We need supplies. Look behind you – how else are my loyal followers going to be fed? We’re simply requisitioning what we need to liberate the very people you’re whinging about.’
Tegen narrowed her eyes. ‘I have heard, my lady, that you have the farmers and their families put to the sword.’
Boudica shrugged. ‘They’re collaborators. If they weren’t they’d have joined us by now. Anyway, if we take their food, they’ll have nothing to eat, so it’s for the best.’
Tegen’s fingers twitched to weave a curse, but her good sense told her to wait. Britain needed Boudica in revolt, but in peace she’d be a despot.
‘Beware,’ Tegen warned. ‘The Goddess won’t be pleased if you act without mercy. There will be a reckoning.’
‘After your wonderful sacrifice in the sacred grove?’ Boudica laughed. ‘I think we have the Goddess in the bag; she’ll do whatever we demand of her. She owes us!’
Tegen ground her teeth with rage, but before she could reply, she noticed the golem stumble. The creature never faltered. What could be wrong? She rode over to it.
‘Stop!’ she ordered and it obeyed. Tegen dismounted and walked around the ashy figure. Perhaps the spells that kept its feet intact were crumbling?
All seemed well. ‘Walk on!’ she commanded. Remounting Epona, she followed, watching closely.
The creature was still growing. Tegen didn’t like that, but it was better than the whole structure crumbling apart.
Just then Sabrina’s chariot rumbled alongside. ‘Not far to Londinium,’ she announced. ‘Come up and ride with me for a while?’
Tegen shook her head. ‘No thanks, I need to think.’
‘Come on, you’re always “thinking”, you need to relax,’ she persisted. ‘Tie Epona to the chariot.’ She stretched down and offered Tegen a hand up. ‘Would you like to have a go at driving?’
Maybe I do need company, Tegen thought, allowing herself to be hauled up.
Standing in the basketwork box beside the Dobunni queen, Tegen took the reins. The power of the harnessed horses thrilled her, but her mind couldn’t rest. ‘Do you know Boudica’s ordered the slaughter of the farmers whose crops we steal?’ she shouted.
Sabrina nodded. ‘Yes. I’m not pleased, but she’s got her blood up these days. Her temper in council last night was appalling. I don’t know what’s got into her of late. Oh, but there’s good news as well.’
‘I could do with some,’ Tegen replied, struggling as the chariot began to yaw.
‘Our spies say that Suetonius has beaten us to Londinium.’
‘Why’s that good news?’
Sabrina leaned over and tugged on the left rein. ‘Careful or we’ll end up in the ditch. It’s good because Suetonius was in such a hurry he only had a few men with him. He decided the town is indefensible: it’s only a trading post, no proper ditches or palisades, just a few river landing stages, a
crossing point, some shops and warehouses, a few inns – nothing much there at all. He’s evacuated everyone except the infirm and a few women who got all weepy. It’s in the bag – Londinium is ours for the taking without a battle!’
Tegen’s eyes widened. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘And it’s not a trap?’
‘No. This is a reliable source.’
Tegen frowned.
‘What’s bugging you?’ Sabrina was bemused.
‘It’s too easy, something’s wrong. Is war usually like this?’
‘No, but then this isn’t a normal war. In military terms the answer’s simple. The Romans have overstretched themselves; their troops are spread too thinly. If there’s a big demand for men at one end of the country, it leaves a gap at the other. Suetonius lost hundreds of men and horses at the battle of Mona, then he set up a new garrison to subdue the “ungrateful natives”. That’s left a huge deficit of manpower in the northwest. They’re stretched in the southwest too. I’ve heard the Dumnonii have rebelled too. In the north, the Picts are fighting hard, probably helped by a few Old Ones who fled that way. So, towns like Londinium have no garrisons. It’s a gift!’
‘Like the web of magic,’ Tegen murmured, ‘tug at one end and it pulls at the other.’
Sabrina slapped Tegen on the back. ‘Cheer up! Celebrate! Thanks to you, the Goddess is giving us our Land back.’ She jerked her thumb towards the golem. ‘And with that thing on our side, who can stand against us?’
Tegen watched her creation striding dumbly along the grassy verges, only half a stone’s throw away. ‘You’re right.’ She smiled and straightened her back. ‘How long before we arrive?’
Sabrina pointed her whip at a glimpse of silvery ribbon that wound across the valley below. ‘That’s the Tamesis, do you remember it?’
‘The same river that flows past Sinodun?’
‘That’s right, only a lot further along. Londinium is built on its banks, near old Lindum. Most of Rome’s supplies come through there, so once that’s destroyed we’ve a strangle hold on Suetonius’s troops. In two days, it’s ours.’
The next evening, Boudica’s war bands camped around Londinium’s small settlement on the banks of a wide marshy river.
Hardly a soul moved in its streets as it huddled, waiting for the inevitable.
The queen summoned Tegen and Owein to her tent. A feast was spread on the table. Venutius, Addedomaros, Daig, and Sabrina were already seated and deep in conversation.
‘Come and join us,’ Boudica called out. ‘We’re honoured to have two druids to lead us into battle. I am sure Tegen’s magic will be as spectacular as before.’ She clicked her fingers and servants passed platters loaded with meat and bread.
Tegen took a deep breath. ‘No thank you.’
Boudica raised an eyebrow. ‘Fasting? You must keep your strength up.’ And she bit into a leg of goose, letting the golden juices trickle down her chin.
Tegen shook her head. ‘No. I won’t eat food that’s been stolen from murdered farmers.’
Everyone fell silent and stared.
Boudica narrowed her eyes, then laughed harshly. ‘Where else will you get food, my dear? This is war. You can’t afford to be ruled by a girl’s conscience in times like these.’
Tegen slapped the table. Glaring at the queen she roared: ‘You are destroying your own people! How will you rebuild this land if the farmers are dead? It’s you who’s being naïve!’
Boudica wiped her mouth on her sleeve. ‘What did you say?’ she asked quietly.
Shaking with rage, Tegen raised her right hand and pointed at the queen. ‘You are abusing your people. You have gold and silver enough to pay for food.’ She pulled her golden armbands from her wrists and flung them at Boudica. ‘Here, have these back in case you get peckish before breakfast!’
The queen reddened. ‘The farmers were collaborators! We found Roman furniture in the houses.’
‘Like the chair under your own backside, my lady? Anyway, as for collaborators – what were you before your man died? Heh?’
Boudica’s knuckles whitened on her dagger.
Owein shuffled beside Tegen and touched her arm gently. ‘Calm down. This won’t do any good!’
She shook him off. ‘I’m going.’
‘Wait!’ Boudica roared.
Tegen’s face tightened as she turned back.
‘What if I agreed to look into how we get our supplies?’ Boudica smiled, but her eyes had a cunning glint.
‘I will eat with you when the food has been paid for.’
‘Very well. I agree. But right now, your friend is right. Arguing won’t help our cause.’ The queen gestured towards a stool by her side. ‘Sit. Eat or not as you please, but I must talk with you.’
Tegen stood where she was, her eyes flashing. ‘I’m listening.’
Boudica sighed. ‘Tomorrow we attack Londinium. As you know it isn’t a big place, but it is Suetonius’s umbilical with his homeland. We must make the Romans too scared and disheartened to return or they will simply rebuild. I understand you’ve never been a battle druid before Tegen, but this is how things must be. And I’ve an idea you can help me with.’
I’ll never trust this woman, Tegen told herself, but if I understand how she thinks, I’ll know how to fight her without destroying our cause.
She sat, then replied meekly, ‘I apologise for my outburst. Please explain.’
‘It’s your creature,’ Boudica began. ‘I want it in the front line when we attack in the morning. At dawn you will do your ritual curses on the town, and then you will order your creature to obey me in battle.’
Tegen gasped. ‘I can’t … I mean, it won’t …’
Boudica’s face reddened and her guards drew closer.
Tegen looked up nervously. ‘However, it shall march with you tomorrow. Concerning the rest, I’ll need to speak with the spirits. Please excuse me, this will take time.’
The sky was clouded and a chilly wind blew. Tegen wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders and went to sit beside her silent golem.
Its hideous fiery eyes stared unblinking into the dark.
Her mind was a-whirl, had she done wrong making this thing? How else could she have kept the demon within sight? The situation was turning very nasty. She should have guessed Boudica would want to control the golem … What should she do now?
Limping footsteps approached from behind.
Tegen looked up. ‘Hello Owein. Thanks for coming, I hoped you would.’
He sat beside her. ‘You’re shivering,’ he said. ‘Do you want to share my cloak?’
She hesitated.
He laughed. ‘You aren’t scared of me, are you?’
‘I am cold but … Is sitting so closely a good idea?’
‘How do you mean? Are you sick?’
‘In Sinodun you said you were in love with me. I’ve been handfasted twice and both men have died. I don’t think I could face it again, not even with you.’
‘I understand,’ Owein replied. Sitting next to her, he wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve decided to go through with marrying the girl I’m betrothed to. This is just for warmth and companionship.’
Tegen looked up. ‘Your woman survived Camulodunum?’
‘Yes. In fact she’s here.’
‘How did you manage that? I thought she was Roman. Boudica will torture her horribly if she finds out.’
Owein laughed bitterly. ‘Thankfully this young lady is only half Roman, she speaks British well, and so does her slave. I told Boudica they’re both Gaulish and I said we’re already married.’
‘I’d like to meet them,’ Tegen replied. ‘But tonight I have other things to worry about. Since Tonn died, I’ve lost faith in the Goddess, and yet I really need her. Dancing under the stars used to help, but it’s too dark tonight.’
Owein put his arm around her. She laid her head on his shoulder. It felt like old times.
&n
bsp; She sniffed back a tear. ‘Everyone expects so much of me, but I’ve got nothing more to give.’
He squeezed her shoulder. ‘I understand how you feel and I’ll help you however I can. Right now, we have to think about Boudica’s demand for the golem.’
Wriggling free of Owein’s comfort, Tegen stood and approached the creature slowly. Spreading her fingers before her, she felt for the protective threads of magic she’d cocooned around it.
‘What are you doing?’ Owein asked.
‘Something’s wrong,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure it’s growing and it keeps stumbling.’
Owein considered the fiery outline in the darkness. ‘Isn’t that because it’s got flat feet?’
‘Not necessarily. I think maybe someone else is trying to control it – and two masters pulling in different directions make it unsteady.’
‘But isn’t it protected from that?’ Owein asked. ‘I mean, you must have used some very powerful spells. Even I can feel the magic barriers.’
‘I’d thought so, but maybe it’s not enough.’
‘Why did you make it?’
Tegen hesitated. ‘The demon wants me and I have a suspicion that I allow it to come closer when I get angry. I made the golem to keep the demon where I can see it – and maybe control it a little. Also I needed to be reminded what anger looks like,’ she replied quietly.
‘Do you think that was wise?’
‘You mean making it was a stupid idea?’
‘Possibly.’
Tegen shrugged. ‘What would you have done?’
‘I don’t know,’ Owein replied. Then he added, ‘I know you have a bit of a temper, but it’s not bad enough to have created this.’
Tegen shook her head. ‘My anger’s getting worse. It makes me do unforgivable things. You saw the way I brought down fire at Dorcic – and I caused the terrible rains that ruined so many crops at Lughnasadh.’
‘How was that you?’
‘I was torn apart with rage that Tonn had been sacrificed to save Britain. What was worse, he died willingly. He wouldn’t believe that the most difficult and important sacrifice was staying alive to fight for what is right.’ She glanced across at the heavily armed guards. ‘I don’t mean a war sort of fighting – I mean, I don’t know, standing up for justice.
