The WIglaff Tales (The Wiglaff Chronicles Book 1)

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The WIglaff Tales (The Wiglaff Chronicles Book 1) Page 13

by E. W. Farnsworth


  Mornow said thoughtfully, “The short, fat one does take a particular liking to big, strong warrior women.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Boadicea didn’t want to hear about that. It doesn’t really matter. She can take care of herself.”

  Wiglaff rubbed his head before speaking. “Do you have any more of that willow bark? I feel a headache coming on.”

  While Mornow fetched bark for Wiglaff and Boadicea ran through the villages towards home, Alma went straight to the hut where she stayed during her last visit. She loitered outside for a while, and then she went inside. She put down her large scroll box and heavy bag of chemicals and rested against the back wall. She fell sound asleep. Hours later near midnight, the two men who had been following Alma slipped into the hut where she was sleeping with their weapons at the ready. They were about to roust Alma awake to rape and possibly kill her, but they hadn’t figured on Boadicea discovering them in the attempt.

  Aware of Boadicea’s presence in the hut, the tall man nevertheless continued trying to rape Alma while the short one turned and licked his lips at the prospect of raping a woman warrior. He was distracted by the sound the tall man made when Alma’s knife found his heart. Boadicea wasted no time slicing the neck of the disconcerted fat man from ear to ear with her knife. The man fell to the floor, grabbing futilely at his neck and bleeding everywhere.

  Boadicea hauled the tall man off Alma and extended her hand to help the woman stand. Alma was trembling as she accepted the warrior woman’s hand. Once on her feet, she was calm and regained her usual composure.

  “Where did those two come from?” Alma asked, trying to brush the blood off her clothing.

  “They followed you all the way from the Wall,” Boadicea answered. “You did well taking care of the tall one. You might have been able to kill the fat one too. We’ll never know.”

  The two women laughed genuinely. Neither was feeling shaken up at all by their experience. “I’m glad you came to help. I really didn’t know what I was going to do after I knifed the tall man. He fell on me and pinned me down. The short one could have had his way with me while using the tall man’s dead body as a foil.”

  “Well,” Boadicea said with a smile. “We finally have something in common.”

  “I suppose you’re right. What are we going to do with this mess of bodies and blood?”

  “We’ll wait for a few minutes until we’re sure no one else was awakened by the commotion. Then we’ll drag the bodies into the forest and bury them.”

  “You arrived just in time. Did you have a premonition that something was going to happen, or was I just lucky?”

  Boadicea did not want to answer that question because she would have to mention Mornow. She dissembled, “You’re the priestess of Mercury. Figure it out. In the meantime, I’ll loan you some warrior clothing. Your rabbit skins are going to have to be cleaned of blood before you wear them again.”

  That evening after the two women had buried the would-be rapists’ bodies in the woods, Winna came to the hut to talk. Her women warriors had witnessed the burial of the two men in the forest.

  Winna received both women’s accounts of the rape attempts with equanimity. “I’m glad things turned out well for both of you. I’ve no idea why those men followed you, Alma, all the way from the Wall. We spotted them trailing you and hoped to discover their intentions sooner or later. Can you think of any reason that you were followed?”

  Alma thought for a moment before she answered. Hers was a complicated world full of lying and deceit. Trying to ascribe motives meant tracing a labyrinth of possibilities. The long arm of imperial power might make anyone a tool.

  “I’m not trusted by everyone in the Roman camp. Caracalla’s men have the greatest reason to want me punished because I foiled their plot, thanks to the information I gleaned from Mornow. Of course, the Emperor’s or Empress’s people might have wanted to kill me just for having been given an audience with the Emperor.”

  “The picture you’re painting is not pretty. Your Romans are vicious people.”

  “These are evil times. Death is dispensed on a whim. The information I imparted was dangerous. The Emperor himself said he was glad I spoke the truth. I shudder to think what might have happened if I had fabricated a story about how I discovered the truth about the miscarriage and the plot.”

  “So the Emperor knows about Mornow?”

  She nodded and confessed, “Yes, and I had to tell him and my own people about everything that happened.”

  “Were you believed?”

  This question caused Alma once again to reflect for a moment before she responded. It was a good question, but the answer was not simple.

  “I was absolutely not believed at the first telling. Then the Empress’s miscarriage occurred after I divulged the prophecy of it and Caracalla’s plot was denied, though it really was happening. After that, my credibility was heightened in some quarters. I frankly don’t know whether my entire story or any part of it was believed.”

  “So it goes with truth, Alma. As I advised when you left to go home, telling the truth is only part of the equation. The listeners have to understand that you speak the truth for it to have any efficacy. So we have built a relationship whereby you can come and go. I want to discuss what valuable information we can impart to your masters so they’ll be satisfied. Of course, you’ll have to give us good intelligence too. What can you tell us that we don’t already know?”

  Alma thought again for a moment before she replied. She knew she could not dissemble. She also knew that telling Winna intelligence she could use to attack the Romans might be traced back to her and thus imperil her life. Further, she wanted to see Mornow again. She ached when she thought of him. She knew she was obsessed, but she could not restrain herself.

  She said, “As a priestess serving Mercury, I practice black arts of magic and practical rituals.”

  “How can that possibly be useful for us Caledonians?” Boadicea asked with a sneer, clearly impatient and desiring information that was more substantial than Roman religious rites. Winna raised her hand to caution her niece.

  “We haven’t heard what she has to say, Boadicea. Let’s not be too hasty in judging the value of what she knows. Alma, continue, please. But don’t trifle with us. You know the penalty for lying.”

  “Winna, Mercury is god over many things. One of those is separating gold from gold ore. To do that Mercury’s metal is required. I know how to make that beady, liquid metal. I also know how to use it to leach gold from quartz and separate the gold from Mercury’s metal afterward by heating without becoming affected by the fumes.”

  “I’ve heard that explorers have mapped the location of mines throughout Britannia. How much do the mines have to do with Rome’s presence in our land?”

  “I brought a gift that can give the answer to that question. It’s a manuscript by the Roman historian Tacitus. I’d like to share it with someone who could understand the technical language. Who do you think should see this manuscript and discuss it with me?” Having made her pitch, she waited patiently for either Winna or Boadicea to understand what she was asking.

  “Alma, I think you’re up to some devious trick to see my cousin Mornow again. Tell me I’m wrong.” Boadicea was incensed, but she knew that only Wiglaff and Mornow had the technical background to understand Alma. She was also jealous that the priestess knew secrets she could not possibly understand.

  “So Mornow is one who would understand me. Is there anyone else?”

  Winna assessed Alma for a moment. Then she made an irrevocable decision. “Alma, yes, two other people might understand you. Given that you’ll probably have to practice your arts as a demonstration that what you say is true, you’ll need to be located in a place where that can happen. Wait here with Boadicea for two days while I consult with people. If I can arrange the discussions you want, you must be ready to move immediately and stay where I take you for as long as it takes for you to be understood. Is that pos
sible, given your charter as a spy?”

  “I think so. The only problem is that my telling secrets will put me in danger of retribution from my god and his people. Rome’s supremacy is in large part due to the mysteries I will divulge to the right people.”

  Winna departed right away to Wiglaff’s cavern. Meanwhile, Boadicea took Alma into the woods and encouraged her to practice martial techniques with her. Because Alma now wore Boadicea’s clothing, the two looked like sisters, one clearly domineering over the other. Boadicea came to understand Alma as she taught her how to survive off the land. Alma was better at tickling trout in the stream and snaring hares with lines than Boadicea. Alma was patient and sensitive. Boadicea was superior in strength and endurance and always would be because of her build. The more they worked together, the closer the women became. They were not friends, exactly, but as companions they tolerated each other’s foibles and eagerly learned from each other.

  Boadicea was almost sad when Winna returned because she interrupted her time alone with Alma. Winna met the two young women in the hut. Her face was serious as she gave Alma her message.

  “I can have you led, blindfolded, to a place where you’ll have everything you’ll need to prove your assertions. If you succeed, you’ll live. If you fail, you’ll be killed. Do you understand?”

  “I understand. The terms are no different from those I accept as a priestess with access to the dark secrets of processing gold from quartz. Will someone help me carry my manuscript scrolls and my vials of Mercury’s metals? I’m not sure I can mange carrying those while blindfolded without falling and breaking something.”

  “Boadicea will be your companion in your travels. She’ll assist in any ways you require.”

  Boadicea screwed up her face at the thought of being Alma’s servant for the passage, but she nodded her acquiescence.

  “When do we set out?” Alma asked.

  “I see no need to wait,” Winna said. “They’re waiting for you in the cavern. When you arrive there, you’ll demonstrate what you know. Boadicea, you know where to take Alma. Try to be nice to her during the journey.”

  Boadicea placed a blindfold over Alma’s eyes. She tightened and checked it to be sure the woman couldn’t see. Then she picked up Alma’s packages and handed her a leathern tether by which she would be following her.

  Winna whispered in Boadicea’s ear, “Two of my women warriors will be escorting you at a respectful distance. Don’t worry about your safety.”

  Boadicea was about to say that she needed no assistance, but then she thought about the two rapists and remained silent. The women walked on the clear path that led like a maze through the villages to the mountain where the cavern lay. They talked nonstop to pass the time.

  “Alma, what I don’t understand is why your mother, a Caledonian, married a Roman.”

  “You’d have to know my mother and my father to penetrate that mystery. He was a bookish soldier, attached to a Millenarian as his secretary. My mother was a chieftainess of one of the southern clans. She fell, badly wounded in a skirmish. She would have been given the coup de grace except that my father intervened with his superior. He nursed my mother back to health and, in the process, talked with her about his vision of civilization. His vision was so unlike anything she had ever heard, she was enchanted.”

  They walked, Baodicea occasionally looking at the woodland scenery that spread to the horizon on all sides. Alma continued, “One thing led to another, and I was conceived. My father married my mother and saw to it that I was raised as much Caledonian as Roman. Through his connections, he arranged for me to become a priestess of Mercury because, he said, that god was closest to the kind of religion Caledonians practiced.”

  “So as a priestess, you became adept at turning quartz into gold?”

  “I wasn’t initiated in that mystery right away. Actually, I was talented in fund raising. People tended to give more money when I officiated in ceremonies than when I didn’t. The head priest sent me to wealthy citizens, including Senators, to solicit money for the Temple. Those people had so much money; they were looking for causes that could give them what they didn’t have—luck, children, and more money. I used my father’s vision for Rome and my mother’s knack for getting what she wanted and put them together. It wasn’t long before I was used to solicit money for things beyond Mercury, but the Temple was the conduit for that money.”

  “I get it. You were used to hide money through your Temple.”

  “You’d make a great Roman politician, Boadicea. That’s exactly what happened.” Alma was fully aware of the way the system worked. She knew she and her religious associates were being used in this way. There was nothing she could do about the corruption except to be true to herself and her profession.

  “Were you in Rome at the time?”

  “Yes. My parents were transferred back to Rome so my father could become a centurion. My mother never liked Rome because she was considered an outsider and a barbarian there. She hated the deceit and treachery of everyone, right up to the Emperor. At the earliest opportunity, my father applied for a position on the Wall. He received his promotion as a reward for assuming a hardship duty on the frontier. My mother was delighted, except for one thing.” Alma hesitated, wondering whether she had gone too far with her account.

  “Don’t stop there,” Boadicea said. “What one thing bothered her?”

  “My father told her that things had changed since his last posting near the Wall. The attitude in Rome was now that all Caledonians who didn’t surrender should be exterminated.”

  “What?” Boadicea stopped in her tracks and stared at Alma in a state of shock.

  “You heard me. The Emperor was being pressured by the Senate either to stop the expansion of the Empire where it was or take the most expedient measures to clarify the terminuses or boundaries at the extremities. Some felt there was no advantage in letting a naturally independent people become part of the Empire. They’d never adapt and accommodate. So the secret edict came out to kill everyone who resisted.”

  “I never knew that it was Roman policy to exterminate us. How did your mother avoid being targeted?” Her voice sounded outraged about the policy, but she narrowed her eyes in suspicion about Alma’s mother’s survival in spite of the policy.

  “She couldn’t avoid it. Fortunately, I was still secretly bringing in money to finance the war. Important people counted on me. My efforts kept my mother alive, though my father was importuned to put her aside for his own political advancement. He was determined that I should be trained for any eventuality. So he hired tutors for me to learn the sciences. Those studies complemented my work as a priestess, so I was admitted to the coterie of religious people who’d been initiated in the black arts. At the same time, my father’s enemies saw an opportunity to put me in harm’s way by making me an imperial spy. They argued that I was the only Roman citizen who knew the Caledonian languages and customs well enough to serve. I guess they were right.”

  Boadicea was now disgusted at the thought of Alma’s working against her own people. She was confused and needed clarification. “So you worked against your own people, knowing the objective was genocide?”

  “You must recall that I was from two different peoples, only one of which was Caledonian.” She did not say this in a defensive manner. She said it in a matter-of-fact way, as this has simply become part of her everyday life.

  “This is complicated. I hate ambiguity and confusion.”

  “That’s what the exterminators always say in Rome. Most of them are unintelligent and afraid. Please don’t take offense when I say that civilization cannot exist with only black and white, pure and impure. That way lies tyranny and dictatorship. It was Julius Caesar who first sailed to Britannia. From his vision everything that’s happened here followed.”

  “We’re left with the joining of many opinions that have combated for over two hundred years since Caesar died. That’s what my father says.”

  “Your father woul
dn’t be the shaman Wiglaff, would he?”

  “What makes you think that?” She was wary now, and her hand moved instinctively toward her weapon, as though preparing to fight.

  “It’s not from anything you said or did. From my perspective, you’re nothing like the shaman. When you allude to what your father said, I notice another sensibility talking. Winna mentioned his name when I was here last.”

  “I’m more my aunt’s child than my father’s.”

  “Let me see, that would make Winna your father’s sister. If I’m right, Winna is Wiglaff’s sister. I’m also guessing that Mornow is Winna’s son, and Mornow is Wiglaff’s nephew.”

  “What if all you say is true?” She was still on full alert, wondering why Alma was pursuing this line of questioning.

  “Then I’ve come to the right place after all. And you’re taking me to the cavern where everything will become clear to me.”

  “Sometimes, I think I should end your life immediately.” Boadicea said this with such menace that Alma stumbled and had to regain her balance.

  “You won’t kill me.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “We’ve grown close, almost like sisters. Besides, I’m going to marry your cousin.”

  “This has gone much too far. What are you saying?” Boadicea was surprised at this point and asked her question in an intimidating way.

  “I’m going to marry Mornow. I saw it in a vision in the Temple of Mercury. There‘s no mistake. You’re taking me to him. We’ll mate, and my many children will call you aunt.” She said this with calm assurance and authority.

  Boadicea was fit to be tied. “I knew you had designs on my cousin! I’ll tell him everything. He won’t get near you. You’ll see.”

  “Relax, Boadicea, I’ve told you what is destined. Ask Mornow if it’s true. When he investigates, he’ll see the same things I saw. Speaking of destiny, your name is taken from the history scrolls, a great warrior queen of Britannia.”

  Boadicea did not notice the change in subject from Mornow to her name. “Boadicea is not only from musty old scrolls. She’s from a long branch of my family. I was named for her because as an infant my father saw the martial spirit in me. He said the same spirit flowed through my aunt and all the way back to Boadicea. I don’t know much Latin, but your name means calm or moderating, perhaps even peace-making. By the mystery of names, we’re polar opposites.”

 

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