The Warrior and the Druidess

by Cornelia Amiri

  The chariot rocked to and fro like a ship at sea from the push of all the people. As the screams of the dying encircled them, Tanwen realized the chariot just got in the way on this steep slope. When a path cleared and Huctia moved forward, the chariot's wheels rolled over fresh corpses. Brude leapt over the side of the chariot. Swinging his sword fervently, he slew as many Romans as he could. As the soldiers pushed them back even more, Brude didn’t have room to wield his long sword. A Roman bashed Brude’s head with a shield boss. Tanwen screamed as Brude dropped to the ground. She couldn’t breathe. Tanwen trembled uncontrollably. Dead. No, it cannot be. Gods, no.

  Still in the chariot, holding a shield over her, Tanwen grabbed one of Brude’s spears and threw it. It pierced the Roman. Penetrating the chain mail, it protruded from his chest. Gushing blood, he fell to the ground. Tanwen leapt from the chariot and flew to Brude, chanting an invisibility spell so she could help her husband. She dropped to her knees at his side. Her fingers trembled as she swept them across his scalp, feeling for the wound. His head was drenched with blood, yet not overly so, and this filled her with relief. Then, she gasped as she realized his breath had stopped. Her body quivered and she began to sway as if she’d soon pass out. Fighting her emotions, she gained the calmness she needed to save her husband.

  “You are not going to die on me. Do you hear me?” She leaned down, covering his lips with hers, she breathed into his mouth, hoping the rush of oxygen would revive him. Tears streamed down her eyes and fell on his pale cheeks. “Not now. You can’t pass through the oaken door. Boudicius needs you. I need you. We have a lifetime of happiness before us.” She kept checking him between breaths. Hoping. Suddenly his eyelids flicked open. Tanwen screamed with joy. “Brude, are you all right?”

  “What happened?”

  She choked back her sobs. “You have an injury to your head from a Roman shield. Can you walk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get up, very slowly.” She placed his shoulder on hers and helped him rise to a standing position. Tanwen chanted the spell for Huctia and called out to her. As Huctia leapt from the chariot and ran over to them, she was invisible to the Romans. Tanwen continued the chant as she and Huctia helped Brude walk toward the woods. “I am a blur. Make those who look not see me. I am a shadow, nothing more— unseen, unheard, unknown. I pass my enemies unnoticed.” All around them, tattooed warriors ran for the shelter of the woods. “Even though the moor and mountains reek of blood, and the scarlet ground is covered with the dead. Many are fleeing. Most of us have survived.”

  Between groans, Brude agreed, “Yes, it is good.”

  “The Romans will give chase and try to capture or kill us,” Huctia said.

  “They will not find us. Once I get into the forest where I can concentrate, I’ll surround the woods with druid mist to protect everyone who escaped.”

  With Brude having to lean on both Tanwen and Huctia, they moved at a slow but steady pace.

  Tanwen sighed with relief when they entered the sanctuary of the wild woods. “The forest will hide us all.” She called forth the mist. The thick, vapory shroud spread around the woods, concealing it and all the Picts who hid there from Roman eyes.

  Tanwen heard voices she recognized in the mist. “Gethin, Drest, Talorcan, we are here.”

  “Tanwen, you are safe,” Gethin called out.

  “Yes. Brude and Huctia are with me.”

  The warriors moved close enough so Tanwen could see them. All six of them cheered at having found each other.

  Drest’s expression grew solemn. “We have bad news,” he said in a soft, sad tone.

  “What is it?” Brude asked.

  Gethin looked tenderly at the chief’s son. “We saw Calach fall. He is dead.”

  “You are chief now,” Talorcan added.

  She leaned her head toward Brude, still holding him up with Huctia’s help. “I am sorry, Brude.”

  “He died fighting the Romans. It is a good death.”

  They all nodded in agreement.

  Tanwen drew in a deep breath. “There is something that must be said.” She gazed deep into Brude’s eyes. “There will still have to be the bull dream. But my ancestor would not have sent me here if the gods hadn’t already known you would be the next chief of the great Caledonii tribe. I will conduct the bull dream when we get to the village, but Talorcan is right. You will be the new chief. I already know your image is the one I will see in the bull dream. That will validate your claim as chief of the Caledonii.”

  “As chief, I say no more pitched battles against Rome, only well-planned raids.”

  “Thank the gods.” Tanwen rolled her eyes.

  Being stronger, Drest and Talorcan supported Brude as he walked.

  “Tanwen, how will I tell my mother?”

  “As the tribe’s druid, I shall tell her. But I think she knows. I am sure his spirit has already appeared to her to bid farewell.”

  “I will miss him.” A tear slid down Brude’s cheek.

  “We all will,” Tanwen said as they traveled on to their new village where Ciniatha and Boudicius awaited them.

  * * * * *

  Several days later, Tanwen sat on a pallet, leaning her back against the wall of the wheelhouse. She was breastfeeding Boudicius, a task one of the other mothers of the tribe had fulfilled in her absence.

  Brude shot up from his seat beside her as Laca entered the room. “What did you find out?”

  “I rode into the fort and told them I escaped captivity during the battle. We celebrated my return.” He flashed Tanwen a wide grin. “I told them I was to be sacrificed by a mad druidess.”

  “I shall remember that,” Tanwen teased.

  “The Roman commander berated the scouts for not catching any Picts. But with all the villages deserted, they feel they have run off the few left.” He placed one hand on his hip. “You see, the commanders have lied to the emperor and senate back in Rome. They are calling the battle a great victory, claiming they wiped out the Caledonii and killed thousands of Picts. They think the few—they’re saying few—who survived ran off to Hibernia.”

  “Wiped out our tribe, and those of us left fled to Erin.” Brude let out a chuckle. “They think that, do they?”

  “So they don’t even know the thousands they are claiming are dead are still here and planning raids against them,” Tanwen said. As the baby let her nipple drop from his mouth, she wiped the drool off his chin.

  Laca bobbed his head. “They do not wish to know.”

  “I am sure it is so.” Tanwen laid the baby down on the pallet at her side and pushed her exposed breast back through the slit of her tunic.

  “But I saved the best news for last.” Laca flashed a wide smile at them.

  “Tell us.” Tanwen leaned forward.

  “On the heels of this massive Roman victory,” the Roman said in a sarcastic tone, “Governor Agricola was recalled to Rome. He left on a ship today. It seems they have need of him there.”

  “Agricola is gone.” Tanwen stood and wrapped her arms around Laca in a friendly, happy hug. “That is good news.”

  Brude shrugged. “They will send another, but the next one will not defeat us anymore than Agricola. We will fight by raids only.”

  Tanwen released Laca from her embrace and spun around to Brude. She pulled him into her arms. “Agricola is gone. The Celtic knot worked.”

  Brude held her snuggly. “Yes, and we will do our best to kill the next governor they send.”

  “I look forward to it.” Tanwen looked into her husband’s liquid, brown, smiling eyes.

  “I just rode in, so I will have a meal and a bath. I will speak to you later.” Laca turned and walked out of the wheelhouse, leaving the couple to their privacy.

  “Druidess, are you going to brew up some spells for the new governor?” Brude’s eyes held both a glint of humor and the vivid gleam of passion.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his smoldering gaze as she pulled her tunic dress off and tossed
it on the floor. “Let us brew up something else right now.”

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading The Warrior and the Druidess. I hope you enjoyed the trip back to Scotland 1st century AD and got a taste of life in a Pict tribe. As you probably guessed, I find the Picts incredibly fascinating.

  It was originally titled Druid Bride but people liked the title The Warrior and the Druidess better so I changed it. Of course the Picts and the Celts would have called Tanwen a Druid. But I use Druidess to communicate that she is a woman so modern day readers can immediately identify her as the heroine of the story.

  I hope the The Warrior and the Druidess swept you away from the pressures and worries of the real world and brought some needed magic and romance to your life. The book is rich with historical fact and legends of the ancient Picts of Caledonia (Scotland). And on the following page I share some of that detail with you in author notes.

  I wanted to thank you again for reading my book, The Warrior and the Druidess. Readers like you make writing worthwhile.

  Thank you so much,

  Cornelia Amiri

  CelticRomanceQueen.com

  CelticRomanceQueen@gmail.com

  Author Notes:

  The Warrior and the Druidess is about the Picts. I love the Picts. My grandmother’s maiden name is Fife, which is a Pict word, it was one of the Pict Kingdoms, and I like to think that I have Pict blood in me though I don’t know for sure. You have probably realized there is a great deal of historical accuracy in the book.

  The Pict tribes inhabited and ruled over Caledonia (Scotland). There is a lot of mystery and controversy about the Picts. There were many things that were different about them compared to the tribes of England and Ireland.

  These are some things we do know: The Picts permanently tattooed themselves. The poet Claudius Claudianus said, "Venit et extremis legio praetenta Britannis, Quae Scotto dat frena truci ferronque notatas Perlegit examines Picto moriente figuras.” Which means, His legion, which curbs the savage Scot and studies the designs marked with iron on the face of the dying Pict. That is why the Romans named them Pictti which means painted. That is where we get the name Pict from and they were also called the Cruithni. We don’t know what they called themselves.

  We know nothing of their language thought it does appear to have been different than that of the English and Irish Celtic tribes. It is a lost language, although a team from Exeter University believes symbols on the Pict standing stones show characteristics of written languages instead of just images or designs. But to date no one has deciphered them, if the symbols are indeed a written language.

  Another thing that is different about the Picts is they were a matrilinear society so Pictish kings were not succeeded by their sons, but by their brothers or nephews or cousins as traced by the female line.

  The Romans never conquered the Picts or their land. In fact in 122 AD during the rule of emperor Hadrian a wall named after him was built to keep the Picts out. Yes, the mighty force of Rome not only never conquered the Picts, they hid from them behind a big, brick wall.

  By 410 AD the Romans had completely pulled out of Britain and guess what happened then. The Picts started climbing over the wall and raiding as well as increasing their piracy along the British coast. And that was when Vortigern hired the Jute War Lords Hengist and Horsa and the age of the Saxons in Britain began. But that’s a whole other story. I actually wrote about that in the box set Swords and Roses and the individual books, The Celtic Fox and The Celtic Vixen.

  Some recent Pict discoveries were made in 2015, when archaeologists excavating a remote sea stack near Stonehaven believe they discovered a Pict fort. Also archaeologists from National Museums Scotland and Aberdeen University’s Northern Picts Project unearthed more than 100 pieces of late-Roman and Pictish hacked-up silver, coins and jewelry. The find includes a Pictish silver chain and a carved stone depicting a sea eagle. Items from the hoard are on display at King’s Museum, Old Aberdeen Town House, High Street, Old Aberdeen.

  As I said, I love the Picts and I am thrilled to have transported you back through the mist of time with my writing so you could get to know a little bit about the lifestyle, the beliefs, the bravery and the beauty of the noble Picts. The Romans called them savages but you and I know better.

  Please sign up for my Newsletter to get the latest information on my new releases and my free book releases here.

  Get your eBook autographed here.

  Please visit my website, my facebook page, my twitter and my pinterest.

  About the Author:

  Drawing on her love of a happy ending, Cornelia Amiri, who also writes as Maeve Alpin, is a mulit-published romance author of twenty-eight published books. Cornelia is inspired by her muse, Severus the Cat, who always lounges beside or (when Cornelia is not looking) on top of her laptop. Severus and Cornelia live in sultry Houston, Texas, as do her son and granddaughter.

  Other books

  by Cornelia Amiri: who also writes as Maeve Alpin

  A Woman of Intellectual Means

  To Love A London Ghost

  The Ghost Lights of Marfa

  Conquistadors In Outer Space

  As Timeless As Stone

  As Timeless As Magic

  The Brass Octopus

  Dance Of The Vampires

  Vampire Highland Fling

  Ever So Bonnie A Vampire

  One Dance With A Vampire

  Vampire Valkyrie Ball

  Some Vampires Shimmy

  Need Fire - box set

  Swords and Roses - box set

  Reach

  Moon Goddess Wife

  Pendragon’s Obsession

  Timeless Voyage

  Druidess

  Druid Bride

  Prince Of Powys

  The Celtic Fox

  The Celtic Vixen

  The Scottish Selkie

  Queen Of Kings

  Peace Love Music

  A Fine Cauldron Of Fish

  The Wolf And The Druidess

  Reviews at Amazon are always appreciated.