‘Was he captured?’ asked Prydain.
‘We don’t know,’ said Heulwen. ‘Many were taken prisoner and lie in chains within the Cerrig. We can only hope he is still alive.’
‘So what do you want from me?’ asked Prydain.
‘Prydain, I know it is a great ask but we need your knowledge to try and help us free him.’
‘What can I do that your own warriors cannot achieve?’
‘We have no warriors,’ said Heulwen, ‘we are a peaceful people and our men are poets or studiers of the stars. If Taliesin is indeed a prisoner, we will need to find a way to free him. Do you remember the few days we spent together fleeing the aftermath of Caer Caradog all those years ago?’
‘I do.’
‘Well you told me then that you were once imprisoned in the Cerrig. You know the layout of the fortress and can help us find him.’
‘Heulwen, I was there for hours only. I’m not even sure if I recall the layout.’
‘No man forgets his prison,’ said Heulwen, ‘no matter how short the sentence.’
‘Even if I do recall the layout, how do you intend to overcome a garrison of Romans? Surely not by force of arms?’
‘With this,’ said Heulwen throwing a bag of coins onto the table. ‘The Romans have a taste for gold so we have melted down the Torcs of our people to form the discs they crave. Every man has his price and if we can bribe a few guards perhaps we can free him.’
‘But why do you need me?’ asked Prydain.
‘Because you know the ways of the Romans,’ said Heulwen, ‘and the bargain may need translation.’
‘I can’t,’ said Prydain. ‘I am needed here, with my own people. The winter has been harsh and despite the thaw, it will be difficult until the sun once again warms our skin. Besides, my days fighting Romans are done. If they threaten the lands of my mother then I will fight but until then, I will concentrate on feeding our children.’
An awkward silence fell at the table before Heulwen spoke again.
‘Prydain, I didn’t want to do this but I must remind you of the pledge you made.’
‘I fulfilled my oath,’ said Prydain, ‘by placing him in your hands. My part is done.’
‘Prydain, I take no pleasure in pursuing this but the future of the Silures also relies on the survival of Taliesin.’
‘In what way?’
‘If we can’t return him to his people, then I fear the Deceangli will tear themselves apart, leaving the route open for the Romans to campaign south and if that happens, it is only a matter of time before the Ordovices fall to their swords. After that the Silures are the only ones stopping the Khymru from falling. There is more to this than just the survival of one boy, our nation could well be at risk.’
Prydain turned to Kegan.
‘What say you?’ he asked.
‘Heulwen makes sense,’ said Kegan, ‘but the decision is yours. Your contribution to this clan has been great and without you our life would be much harder but the responsibilities are not yours alone. If your heart reaches out to this quest then go with our blessing. If not, then there is a place here for you and when I die, you will become chieftain. Either way there is no shame, only honour. Take some time for it is a dangerous feat you contemplate.’
Prydain looked between them all before speaking again.
‘Many years ago my mother needed help and there was nobody there to come to her aide. Subsequently she led her life as a slave in Rome and died at the hands of a monster. If somebody had heeded her call, she may have lived today. My home is here and I have pledged my life to the Silures yet I cannot ignore the plight of this boy. His father and I faced many trials together and when he died in my arms at Caer Caradog, I pledged I would see his son safe to manhood.’ He turned to face Heulwen. ‘I will honour that pledge, Heulwen. My sword is yours.’
Heulwen’s hand crept forward and covered Prydain’s own on the table.
‘Thank you, Prydain. I will be forever grateful.’
‘Then so be it,’ said Kegan, standing up. ‘The decision is made. Heulwen, you will get some rest while the preparations are made. You will leave in the morning.’
‘No, we must leave immediately,’ said Heulwen. ‘There is no time to lose.’
‘The loss of one day will not hinder you unduly,’ said Kegan, ‘just ensure you are better prepared. Prydain will make suitable arrangements and you will leave at first light. In the meantime, Cara will make up a bed so you can get some sleep. From what I can gather, rest is going to be in short supply in the forthcoming days.’
Heulwen looked toward Prydain for support.
‘Kegan is right,’ he said. ‘This quest is not to be taken lightly and I need time to prepare.’
Heulwen nodded silently in acceptance.
‘Come with me, Heulwen,’ said Cara. ‘The rest is the business of men.’
----
Kegan and Prydain left the hut and wandered across the village.
‘You do realise that the chances of success are limited,’ said Kegan. ‘The Roman influence has spread like a plague and they have spies everywhere. It will be difficult to even get to the Cerrig and even then, the chances of him being there are slim.’
‘I know,’ said Prydain, ‘but I must try.’
‘Then take some men,’ said Kegan. ‘The spring is almost upon us and times will get easier for our hunters.’
‘No, Kegan. They will be needed here.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Kegan, ‘besides, they have warrior’s appetites. You will be doing us a favour. Without your men, our food will probably last until next summer.’
Both men laughed.
‘I see what you are doing, Kegan but this task is mine alone. I will not lead our men toward a fate I do not control. Their swords may be needed here.’
Kegan stopped and faced Prydain.
‘These past few years you have become like a son to me, Prydain. I accept your need to meet your pledge but know this. The gods will be deafened by my prayers until the day you return.’
‘I am honoured, Kegan and if the gods are willing, I will return before winter to share that store of good wine you have hidden beneath your bed space.’
‘You know about that?’ asked Kegan with surprise.
‘Everyone knows about that,’ laughed Prydain.
‘Then on the day you return, we will show it the light of day and there will be revelry the likes of which this clan has never seen before.’
‘Then there is no doubt I will return,’ laughed Prydain, ‘for even the gods will wish to see that day.’
‘I will let you get on,’ said Kegan, ‘but will say my goodbyes now.’
‘Why not tomorrow?’
‘It is never good for a clan to see the tears of a chief,’ said Kegan and held out his arm.
Prydain paused before grabbing Kegan’s arm and pulling him in to a manly embrace.
‘I care not for comments of fools,’ he said. ‘I will miss you as a father and if the gods will it, I will return to make you proud of me.’
Kegan’s eyes filled up and he nodded silently before breaking the embrace and making his way slowly across the village.
----
The following morning saw Prydain up early to see to his horse. He rode through the village and stopped before the hut of Kegan. Cara led Heulwen out but as expected, there was no sign of Kegan.
‘He’s gone hunting,’ said Cara.
Prydain nodded with understanding.
‘Are you ready, Heulwen?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Heulwen, ‘though after the food Cara has made me eat, I feel I may need a plough horse to carry me.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Cara. ‘Porridge and Cawl is just what you need to set you up for a long ride.’
‘Thank you, Cara,’ said Heulwen, kissing the old woman on her cheek. ‘Your hospitality has been wonderful.’
‘You just stay safe, my girl,’ said Cara, ‘and be gone before you start this old woman crying.’
Heulwen kissed Cara again before mounting the horse.
‘Goodbye, Cara,’ said Prydain, ‘and remind that old man of yours that I will hold him to his promise.’
‘What promise?’
‘Ask Kegan,’ said Prydain and kicked at his horse’s flanks to lead the way.
----
They hadn’t travelled more than a mile when Prydain pulled up and looked behind him.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Heulwen, reining in her horse beside him.
‘We are being followed,’ said Prydain.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’
‘Who do you think it is?’ asked Heulwen.
‘I have a good idea,’ said Prydain, ‘but we will see soon enough.’ A moment later, three men came riding over the hill and galloped toward him.
‘And where do you think you are going?’ asked one.
‘To the Cerrig of the Deceangli,’ said Prydain.
‘Without us?’ asked the second man, ‘how forgetful of you.’
Prydain looked around the faces of the three as Heulwen looked on in bemusement.
‘Do you know these men?’ she asked.
‘I do,’ said Prydain, ‘they are my fellow warriors and closest friends. I did not forget you, Cullen. I thought hard about asking for your aid but there is a chance I will not be returning this time. The dangers are great and the task is mine alone.’
‘We live every day with danger,’ said the second man, ‘since when has that stayed our hand?’
‘I know, Taran but the burden is mine. I made a pledge and honour demands it is paid. You do not owe me anything.’
‘It matters not,’ said Taran. ‘We are coming with you and nothing you say will change our minds. We have our weapons and supplies so all we need from you is the nature of the task.’
‘A task that may be the end of us all,’ said Prydain.
‘And that is why we are here,’ said Taran. ‘With us your chances are slim but alone they are non-existent. We are coming with or without your agreement. Four swords are better than one.
‘Listen to him, Prydain,’ said the third rider, ‘for our minds are set. We understand that the Khymru is at risk and is this country no less ours?’
‘Of course it is,’ said Prydain.
‘Then it is agreed,’ said the big man. ‘This party now has four swords.’
‘Five,’ said Heulwen, pulling aside her cloak to reveal a side dagger.
‘A pretty toy, lady,’ said Taran.
‘Yet one that can cut a Roman throat as efficiently as any sword,’ answered Heulwen.
‘Enough,’ interrupted Prydain. ‘If we are to succeed we need to work as a fist, not an open palm. Heulwen, this is Taran, the best swordsman I have ever seen and the handsome one there is Cullen. Whilst he is also an excellent swordsman, his main weapon is his silver tongue. Watch him for many a lady has fallen for his honeyed words.’
‘A pleasure to meet you, Miss,’ said Cullen, taking her hand to kiss it gently.’ Owen was right, you are indeed fairer than the most beautiful flower.’
‘Back off, Cullen,’ said Prydain. ‘You have only just made acquaintance and already you cast your bait.’
‘Good to make your acquaintance, Cullen and Taran,’ said Heulwen before turning to face the biggest man. ‘And you are?’
‘I am Gildas, Lady,’ he said, ‘and fear not for I will keep these two brigands in check.’
‘And do you have a silver tongue?’
‘Me? Oh no, Lady. My heart is taken by one back in camp.’
‘So why are you so keen to leave her?’ asked Heulwen.
‘Let’s just say that though the homecomings are sweet, the goodbyes are sweeter still,’ said Gildas. ‘But enough banter, do we ride or do we talk like washer women at the wicker?’
‘You are right,’ said Prydain. ‘There is a long way to go.’
‘I hear the Romans run riot in the north,’ said Gildas. ‘Perhaps there will be chance to blood our blades.’
‘Our aim is to return a boy to his tribe,’ said Prydain, ‘nothing more. Once we have him we will return at full speed to our own lands.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Gildas. ‘So what are we waiting for?’
‘Nothing,’ said Prydain. ‘Lead the way, Gildas.’
Gildas spurred his horse to a trot and the other four riders followed him, each unsure what the next few days would bring but equally quiet in their determination to succeed.
----
Chapter Six
The Lands of the Iceni
Boudicca stared into the dancing flames of the camp fire. Her dress was lowered to her waist and Heanua was gently rubbing ointment from the Shamen into the many wounds across her back. Beside her, Lannosea was busy cutting a sheet of linen into strips for fresh bandages. All around, the many camp fires stretched away into the darkness, providing circles of welcoming warmth throughout the forest like a swarm of fireflies. Yet all those who sought their comforting heat knew they were safe from prying eyes as the nearest enemy patrols were at least a day’s ride away and could not see into the blanket of protecting Iceni darkness. Heanua helped wrap Boudicca with bandages before snuggling in to her side, just happy to enjoy the closeness of her mother, a pleasure rarely enjoyed. A figure approached and spoke quietly.
‘Boudicca,’ said the guard, ‘the Shaman seeks audience.’
‘Let her through,’ said Boudicca.
The mystical woman entered, her body stooped through age.
‘Shaman,’ said Boudicca, ‘I trust you have good news.’
‘I do, great Queen,’ said the Shaman, ‘the fever has broken and Rianna is lost in the sleep of the exhausted.’
‘Good news indeed,’ said Boudicca.
‘We have laid her in one of the carts,’ said the Shaman. ‘She will need to rest but the gods smile on her.’
‘At first light we will sacrifice a bull to their glory,’ said Boudicca. ‘Pass the word to the people. Our messengers have returned from the clans with promise of support and today I have received a pledge from the Trinovantes. They have long suffered Rome’s will and are straining to throw off the shackles. Tonight you and your acolytes will partake of the devil’s cap and reveal your dreams. If they are true, then tomorrow we will step out from the shadows.
The Shaman bowed and left the tent.
----
The following morning saw Boudicca walking out of the forest accompanied by her closest advisors. Behind her, hundreds of her own clan followed, spread across the forest edge like a wave upon a shore. For a second the sunlight caught her eyes, and her hand flew up to shade the early morning glare but within seconds it fell away again, a shocked response to the sight that lay before her. In the valley below, thousands of warriors stood silently in the sunshine, waiting for the appearance of the woman whose plight had united them as one. Along the high ground hundreds of carts lined up, each carrying supplies and the families of those who had answered her call. Throughout the mass she could see the banners of all the Iceni clans and in the distance she could see seas of red tunics, the preferred colours of the Trinovantes.
Immediately below her, clan leaders looked up at her, each holding the banner of his own clan. Iceni, Trinovantes and Cornovii were prevalent but there were also clans from the Durotriges, Catuvellauni and Dobunii, each leader testament to their own tribe’s weariness of Roman rule.
As she appeared, a great roar rose from the throats of ten thousand men, all cheering the warrior Queen. For what seemed an age the cheering continued and Boudicca was shocked to see all the clan leaders bend their knee before her. Heanua tapped her on the shoulder and pointed toward a cart on one side. Boudicca looked over and saw Rianna sitting on the tail gate.
Rianna raised her fist, first placing it over her heart before raising it in salute to her friend. Boudicca copied the gesture before turning to face the impressive army before her. She held her hand high until eventually silence fell.
Again the crowd roared and this time Boudicca did little to quieten them. She turned to one of her warlords.
‘Pass the word for the clans to ready their steeds and sharpen their swords,’ she said. ‘Before the sun is at its highest, we will take the first steps toward regaining our lands. Gather the clan leaders for council at the far crags. I will attend shortly.’
The warrior nodded and ran from her. Boudicca summoned the nearby Shaman.
‘Attend me,’ she said and walked over to the wagon where Rianna still sat. ‘Rianna, my heart is glad to see you well.’
‘I am as weak as a puppy but the witches have done their work well,’ said Rianna.
‘It was to their advantage that you lived,’ sneered Boudicca.
‘You have never paid them much respect,’ said Rianna, ‘yet allow them personal attendance. I have often wondered about this.’
‘They are often scaremongers who bode ill for their own purpose,’ said Boudicca, ‘and I have little time for such talk.’
‘Then why humour them?’ asked Rianna.
‘My views are not shared by the majority,’ said Boudicca, ‘and my people fall upon the Shamen’s words like geese on the corn. Better that I direct their ramblings than banish them, for that would only feed subversion.’ Both women looked toward the old crone as she arrived.
Roman III - The Wrath of Boudicca Page 6