Time Raiders: The Avenger

by P. C. Cast

  He thought for a moment, and on his pale, translucent face she saw the jolt of surprise as he remembered the events that had led to his own death. “No.” His voice was rough with emotion. “We’d become separated.” His eyes widened and he began looking all around them. “Is she here? Has Boudica fallen?”

  “No!” Alex assured him. “I haven’t seen her. I don’t think she’s been killed.”

  Aedan sighed in relief and relaxed his frantic search, but then moved toward Alex, speaking earnestly. “The Roman phalanx is too much for us. We can not stand against the legions’ combined might.”

  “I know,” she said softly.

  “They will defeat us!”

  “I know,” Alex repeated.

  Aedan stopped walking. “The goddess has shown you our defeat?”

  “The Romans will win this battle, and this war,” she said, not answering him directly.

  “I do not want to leave her. I have been by my queen’s side since Prasutagus charged me with her protection from his deathbed.” Aedan looked back in the direction of the battlefield. “I had hoped that someday, when this war was over and we were free of Rome, I could be more to Boudica than just her sworn warrior.”

  Ah, Alex thought, that was why I got such a weird, overprotective vibe from him. Aedan loves Boudica! That would make it difficult for him to move on to the Otherworld. He’d want to stay and keep serving her and hoping that one day—

  And with a start, Alex realized the warrior could still be of service to Boudica, though only indirectly and generations removed.

  “Aedan, I have to get to Suetonius.”

  That snapped the warrior’s attention back to her. “The Roman general—why?”

  “I have been commanded to retrieve Boudica’s medallion piece—the one the tax collector took from her torque. Will you lead me to Suetonius?”

  The ghost’s face took on new animation. “If you return the medallion to Boudica, will it change the tide of the battle? Will it protect the queen?”

  It would have been easy to lie to him, to allow him to hope just a little while longer, but she couldn’t. She was Andraste’s priestess, and she would not lie.

  “No, Aedan. Nothing can save our queen today. Soon, she will join you in the Otherworld, but I can promise you that the medallion piece needs to be retrieved to save future generations.”

  “I will give you aid, Priestess,” he said.

  “Thank you, Aedan.” She paused and, remembering how Caradoc had killed a chicken and given Catus’s young assistant its blood, added, “I don’t have anything to sacrifice to reward you with blood.”

  He shook off her words. “My reward is serving Boudica in some way, even after my death.” Then the ghost’s form wavered and he disappeared.

  Filled with nervous frustration, Alex could do nothing except sit on her horse and wait.

  “Caradoc! Wait! We must stop!”

  Caradoc heard the echo of a girl’s voice between the crashing of underbrush and the blowing of his horse, and he pulled the gelding up and turned to face the others, who were lagging terribly behind.

  When had they fallen so far back? Caradoc peered through the forest behind them. By the trident of Condatis, these woods are dense!

  Breathing hard, the girls’ horses finally caught up with Caradoc. “Girls, I know this is difficult, but we must—” He broke off as he realized Blonwen was not behind them.

  “Caradoc, Una has to tell you something,” Mirain panted.

  “Two things, actually,” her sister said.

  “They can wait.” Caradoc kneed his horse around the girls. “Blonwen! Blonwen!” he cried.

  Una’s small hand reached out to grab his tunic as he passed by her, and he jerked his horse to a halt, turning a black look on her.

  The child didn’t so much as flinch. She simply said, “First, Blonwen isn’t behind us anymore. Second, your mother is here.”

  Chapter 27

  “M y mother is here?”

  Caradoc was trying hard to look stern, and before the Romans did what they had done to her, she might have been scared by such a look. But now Una really wasn’t scared of much. Actually, she’d decided she didn’t ever want to be scared again in her life. So instead of being afraid, she just nodded and said, “Yes, your mother is here.” She pointed to the right, where Caradoc’s mother was sitting on a fallen log, smiling warmly at her.

  “Una, we don’t have time for games. How long has Blonwen been gone?”

  Sweet child, say exactly this to my son—‘The scar in the shape of a horse’s hoof on your backside says your mother is here, and she knows where Blonwen has gone.’

  Una smiled back at her. “I’ll tell him.” Then she looked from the ghost to Caradoc, and repeated her words.

  Caradoc’s eyes widened in surprise. “Have you always been a Soul Speaker?”

  “No, she hasn’t.” Mirain spoke up. “Just since the goddess marked her today. Una, would you ask the spirit if I’ll be able to talk with the dead once I’ve been accepted into the goddess’s service, too?”

  “Mirain, she can hear you. She’s right here.” Una pointed again.

  “I know that. I wasn’t sure if it was polite to speak directly to her. And don’t be so high and mighty!”

  “Where is Blonwen?” Caradoc broke in before the two really started bickering.

  She has returned to the field of battle to confront Suetonius, Caradoc’s mother stated. Tell him, child.

  “I shall!” Una said brightly. “Caradoc, your mother asks me to say that Blonwen has returned to confront Suetonius.” Then her bright look faded. “That’s bad, though. She’s all alone and—”

  Not for long, the ghost interrupted. That is why I have come to you. I will guide you to safety while Caradoc joins Blonwen.

  “Oh! That seems a good idea,” Una said, smiling again.

  “What?” Caradoc and Mirain said together.

  “Well, your mother says she’s here to lead us to safety so you can go back and help Blonwen.”

  “I really wish I could see her,” Mirain muttered.

  “Truly?” Caradoc didn’t waste time attempting to peer through the veils of reality to see his mother. Instead he studied Una’s face, trying to read the truth there.

  Yes, truly, the spirit said before the child could answer. Tell him I will lead you to the old shepherd’s hut on the south side of the Dobunni hills.

  “She’s going to lead us to a shepherd’s hut on the south side of the Dobunni hills,” Una reported faithfully. She threw her sister an apologetic look. “I am sorry you cannot see her, Mirain. Her tunic is very pretty, even though I can see through it.” Her attention skipped back to Caradoc. “Do you really have a hoof-shaped scar on your bum? Can I see it?”

  Caradoc seemed to grind his jaw before answering. “No, you cannot.”

  “Una, you shouldn’t ask things like that. It isn’t proper. Mother would be displeased with you, and I can’t imagine the goddess would be happy, either.”

  “Oh, I am sorry, Caradoc,” Una said.

  Time is wasting, child. Caradoc must help Blonwen. Tell him he has to be there so that she is forced to do what she must.

  “That’s sounds mysterious,” Una said.

  “What?” Caradoc and Mirain asked together.

  Una sighed. “She wants you to go because you have to be there so that Blonwen is forced to do something.”

  “What is it I must force her to do?” Caradoc tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the frustration from his voice.

  Una looked questioningly at the spirit.

  Only Blonwen has that answer.

  “She says Blonwen is the only one who knows.”

  Caradoc blew out a long, agitated sigh. “Mother, are you sure I may leave the girls? The queen charged me with their safety. I am oath sworn to protect them.”

  You are blood of my blood and I shall carry out your charge until you return.

  “She says that she can take your charge becau
se she’s your mother,” Una paraphrased, getting tired of repeating every single thing the ghost said.

  “Then I accept your offer, Mother.” Caradoc smiled wistfully in the direction Una kept looking. “If you care for them half as well as you cared for me, my oath will be fulfilled.” He met one girl’s gaze and then the other’s. “Be brave. I promise to return.”

  “We’re not afraid,” declared Mirain.

  “Bring Blonwen and Mother back with you,” Una said.

  “You have my word that I will do my best.” Caradoc wheeled his horse around and started fighting his way through the forest.

  Eilwen stood, and with a sweeping gesture that took in all of the forest, she cried out, Spirits of the old ones, I do thank you for answering the young priestess’s need, but you must now allow my son to pass. In Andraste’s name, I command it!

  The forest shivered, as if a giant had blown his breath through the trees, and when all was still again the woods had returned to their normal appearance.

  Eilwen smiled up at Una. Now I will take you to one of my favorite places, but we will travel more slowly than the druid led.

  “Good, I was tired of going so fast.”

  “What did she say?” Mirain asked.

  “That we can slow down now,” Una told her sister.

  “That’s probably because Caradoc and Blonwen are going to be sure Suetonius and the Romans will be defeated, so we’re in less danger now,” Mirain said.

  “And Mother will come for us soon,” Una added, clucking to her horse to follow Eilwen.

  Eilwen remained silent and kept her face turned from the children so that they wouldn’t see her tears of grief.

  The general is just through there. On the other side of these rowan trees is a ridge that abuts to them. Suetonius and his personal guard are there, overlooking the battle.

  Alex wiped her dripping face with the sleeve of her tunic. Aedan had led her up the increasingly steep and rocky hill for the better part of an hour in a hike that would have kicked a marine’s ass. Thankfully, hiking was on her daily list of to-dos at the tallgrass prairie, so even though she was sweating, her breath was steady and she was invigorated instead of exhausted by the exercise.

  “So if I step out from those trees, he will see me?” she asked the spirit.

  He could, though his attention is trained on the battle.

  Well, she could take care of that. She gulped, not wanting to dwell on the fact that she was soon going to get naked in front of a bunch of Romans, and try to grab a guy’s necklace, and then disappear before he grabbed too much of her.

  Priestess? Did you hear me?

  “Oh, no. Sorry.”

  I said you cannot battle Suetonius alone. It is madness.

  She smiled ruefully. “Well, I have been called crazy before.”

  I do not jest, Priestess.

  She sighed. “You don’t need to worry about me. See this?” She held up her arm so he could see the ESC cuff. “It’s magic.”

  Truly?

  “You have my word on it. So don’t worry.” Alex paused, and then spoke the words she sensed he needed to hear before he would move on. “Your service is done now. There is nothing more you can do here. Andraste’s meadow waits for you. Your Boudica will join you there soon, on that you have my word.”

  Impulsively, Alex walked to the first tree in the rowan grove that flanked the battle ridge. “Aedan, what was your father’s name?”

  The spirit startled in surprise. “He was called Tearlach, Priestess.”

  Alex raised her spiral tattooed palm and pressed it against the rowan’s bark. “Hello, magical tree,” she said softly. “I need to call a spirit from the Otherworld to me.” The warmth that danced around the spiral circle in her palm was answer enough. She smiled. “I am Blonwen, Soul Speaker of Andraste, and I summon from the Otherworld the spirit of Tearlach, father of Aedan.”

  The now familiar veil between worlds parted, and a man stepped through the opening. He was tall and blond, as was his dead son, and he looked around in confusion until his gaze found Aedan.

  “Son? It is you?”

  “It is, Father,” the warrior answer in a choked voice.

  “Was it an honorable death? Did you serve the queen?”

  “I vow that I did,” Aedan said.

  The older spirit nodded. “Then I am proud of you, my son.” He looked at Alex. “Soul Speaker, I answered your call. Is there a task you would have me perform?”

  “There is, even though I don’t have any payment for you. I ask that you guide Aedan to the Otherworld. He has served his queen and her people well.”

  “Soul Speaker, there is no payment required for such a task.” Tearlach held his arm out to his son. “Come with me, Aedan, to where there is no pain or regret or sadness, and the meadows of Andraste are eternally green.”

  Aedan went to his father and embraced him.

  Alex ignored the tears that were leaking down her cheeks and said, “May Andraste’s love greet you, Aedan, and may you finally get your heart’s desire when your queen joins you in the goddess’s meadows.”

  Just before they stepped through the veil together, he looked back and bowed his head respectfully. “Thank you, Priestess….” And the two spirits disappeared.

  Wiping her cheeks, Alex thanked the rowan, and then began focusing herself. “Now, Alexandra Blonwen Patton,” she said aloud. “It’s time to get this job done.”

  Resolutely, Alex stripped. She laid her clothes neatly over a rock, close to the edge of the woods. She didn’t actually expect to be able to get back to them before she pressed the ESC crystal, but it made her feel better to think it might happen. Hell, anything was better than thinking about popping back to Flagstaff and the middle of the lab naked.

  “So I won’t think about it,” she said.

  Soon she was naked except for her ESC cuff, just as she had been when she and Caradoc traveled to the Otherworld and she pledged herself to Andraste.

  Caradoc…

  Alex bit her lip and blinked hard. Crying was stupid. It didn’t help for shit, plus Aedan had already made her bawl once, and if she wasn’t careful she’d look red-eyed and snotty-nosed—which was not the look needed to lure Suetonius away from his men.

  “The sooner I do this, the sooner I’ll be able to come back, find Boudica, get the other piece of the medallion and then decide what to do about Caradoc. My husband.” The word husband had such a magical sound to it. “I’ll make it work—somehow.”

  Alex returned to the rowan. This time she pressed her naked body against the rough bark—not in a sexual way, but as if she was being embraced by a loving mother. “Please help me to know the right thing to say, and then give me strength to do what needs to be done.”

  Alex walked through the rowan grove to the edge of the trees. Just as Aedan had described, there was a ridge that abutted to the grassy place beside them. Alex stayed in the rowans’ shadows, assessing the situation.

  Suetonius was easy to recognize. He was the tallest and most muscular of the men and his cape of scarlet was as unmistakable as his silver breastplate. He was just a little below her, easily within climbing distance. Half turned away from her, he had his eyes fixed on the battle below.

  Following his gaze, Alex looked down at the battlefield. Death and destruction spread below them. The Celts were hurling themselves at the legions’ phalanx. The tall, woad-painted warriors were fighting bravely, rushing the shield wall of the Romans as they shrieked their battle cries. But it was obvious to Alex that there was no way the Celts could win. Yes, there were substantially more of them, but they were too vulnerable. The style of warfare the Romans had forced them into was going to be their destruction.

  It wasn’t going to be fast, though. There were simply too many Celts. The wall of Romans was moving forward, but more slowly than Alex had thought. She knew that eventually they would, as a single force, rush the fleeing Celts, trapping them between their swords and the families that unknowingly b
locked their escape. But now it almost appeared to be a brutal stalemate, where pawns were being killed and immediately replaced by other players.

  As if he was reading her thoughts, Suetonius’s deep voice carried to her on the wind. “The barbarians should have been dispersed by now! On what are our soldiers waiting? The appearance of Jupiter himself? As if a god would bother with this rabble!”

  “My lord! The field is thick with barbarians. They outnumber us many times over.”

  Suetonius glanced at the officer who stood to his right. Then, almost more swiftly than Alex’s eye could follow, the general backhanded the man across the face.

  “If we need more men to exterminate the rabble, then you shall join them.”

  The blow had knocked the officer to his knees, but he stood quickly, saluted and rushed away.

  Supposedly to join the fighting, Alex thought. Wow—this Suetonius is a total asshole! But now he’s an asshole surrounded by three instead of four men.

  She was readying herself to step out of the shadows and call to him when Suetonius strode to the very edge of the craggy precipice and shouted down at the legions below. Alex had to stifle a shocked gasp at his magically amplified voice, but it seemed to come as a surprise only to her and the Celts, who were faltering in the battle and stepping back in wonder.

  Conversely, the Romans who weren’t in the front line of battle just paused and looked attentively up at their general, as if him speaking with an invisible megaphone was the norm.

  Centaurians are a ferocious race with vast powers…. The thought surfaced in the memories planted in Alex’s mind.

  “No kidding,” she muttered to herself. And then Suetonius began to speak.

  “Romans! Ignore the racket made by these savages. There are more women than men in their ranks. They are not soldiers—they’re not even properly equipped. Stick together. Throw your javelins, then push forward. Knock the rabble down with your shields and finish them off with your swords. Think of the booty and women that await just down this valley. Win quickly and I will forfeit my share, and instead divide it amongst you. You will be rich men!”

  The legions’ answer was more of a snarl than a battle cry, and they went back into battle with redoubled ferocity.