Daughters of Fire

by Barbara Erskine

  Peggy stared at her, shocked. ‘Of course she is.’

  ‘No. She likes him. She finds him fun. That’s all.’

  ‘But I thought -’

  Pat shook her head. ‘If Viv is in love with anyone, I think it’s with Hugh. That’s the whole problem. That’s why they keep sniping at each other. Neither of them realises it yet.’ She stopped suddenly, seeing Peggy’s face, wishing she could bite off her tongue.

  Peggy had gone red. ‘She doesn’t love Steve?’ she repeated.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘But they’ve gone out together. They’re out together now.’

  ‘As friends. To look for Mr Steadman.’ Pat hugged her knees nervously. ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘No. You were right to tell me.’ Peggy’s face looked pinched and angry. ‘That changes everything.’

  ‘In what way?’

  For a long time Peggy didn’t answer. They sat in silence, the sound of the falls behind them, then she smiled again. This was a different smile. Cold and hard. ‘It makes it easier to deal with the situation. I will consult with the goddess. Go home. I’ll join you in a little while. Go and wait. When they come back we’ll be ready for them.’

  Standing up, she ducked back into the cave, leaving Pat alone.

  III

  ‘So, what was wrong? Why did you ring?’ Steve asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the house. ‘It sounded urgent.’

  ‘It was. I was scared. Pat and your mum were behaving so oddly.’ Viv shrugged. ‘I feel much safer with you here, Steve.’ She smiled at him and reaching out touched his arm gently. ‘I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have rung you. It all seems different in daylight, but the whole thing was getting on top of me. I felt really threatened.’ They turned up the lane, their feet slipping on the loose stones. Within seconds the farmhouse was out of sight. ‘Did you know your dad and mum had a row about the well?’ Viv went on at last.

  Steve nodded. ‘Dad has been threatening to fill it in for years. It’s such a special place. He doesn’t understand and Ma gets apoplectic about it.’

  ‘So he doesn’t worship the old gods like your mother?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you believe in them, Steve?’ She asked it cautiously, watching his profile as he walked beside her.

  He paused, staring out across the fells. ‘Yes.’ He didn’t look at her.

  ‘Does your father know?’

  He gave a wry smile. ‘Why court danger? No, he doesn’t. He thinks I’m a bit of a nancy boy, as he puts it, anyway, for studying history!’

  ‘That’s tough.’ She was silent for a few moments as they walked on up the track. ‘The old gods have never gone away from these hills, have they?’ She shivered.

  He shook his head. ‘Do they ever? They go underground. They wait for people to find them; they wait to be woken up.’

  They stopped again, staring out across the hillside, and after a moment she levered herself up onto the wall to sit, swinging her legs. ‘Living history.’

  He nodded. They were silent for a while, then he pulled himself onto the wall close to her. The stones shifted slightly. She glanced at him. ‘I’m going back to Edinburgh this afternoon, Steve.’ She saw his face fall and she reached for his hand. ‘It’s been great here, but I need to get away. Hugh turned up yesterday. I’m not going to hang around and wait for him to cause more chaos. Besides, I have decisions to make. I’ve been offered a job in Ireland.’

  Steve stared at her in dismay. ‘So you really are leaving?’

  ‘I don’t suppose I have any choice. I want to go on teaching; I want to go on researching.’

  ‘Hugh will be gutted.’ He tried to hide his own devastation.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘I do. Yes.’ He looked down at his feet. ‘Are you going back to your bloke?’ He pursed his lips.

  ‘Andrew?’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘No way. Anyway, he’s in Dublin. The job is down in the south-west.’

  Suddenly she found she was shivering again. She could feel the small hairs on the back of her neck stirring as the silence of the countryside flowed round them. She glanced at Steve. ‘We’ll still be friends, Steve. Won’t we?’

  He nodded sadly. ‘Of course.’ He grimaced. ‘What about Cartimandua?’ He could, he realised suddenly, see the shadowy figure of the woman standing there beside them. Feel her power. He shuddered violently. Viv was going nowhere until the Queen of Brigantia said so.

  Tears were pouring down Carta’s face as she stood looking down at the dog’s body, unable to believe that she was dead. Her beloved Moon, old and grizzled, had licked her hand the night before, a last kiss and farewell, and gone to lie on her accustomed mat. In the night her soul had fled to join that of her brother, Sun, in the lands of the ever young.

  Behind her Mairghread shook her head and sighed. Yet another blow; another friend gone. Gently she touched Carta’s shoulder. ‘I’ll call two men to carry her away.’

  Carta nodded bleakly. She couldn’t speak. Numbly she watched as the men came in and carefully lifted the giant dog on her mat. As they passed, Carta touched Moon’s head gently with her finger.

  ‘There will be another,’ Mairghread whispered. ‘A puppy to love you as much.’

  Carta shrugged. She shook her head. Later she would supervise the dog’s burial and send her on her way with her blessing. Now she had to find the strength to attend a council meeting.

  Miserably she let Mairghread help her dress. The room seemed so empty suddenly without Moon sitting watching the proceedings, ready to follow wherever she went, always there at her side, always loyal. Always loving.

  One by one automatically she drew on her bangles, then she paused at the sound of raised voices in the outer chamber. A moment later the curtain was pushed aside and a figure appeared in the doorway.

  Vellocatus was exhausted. Covered in mud and with a huge gash across his cheek, he staggered into the room and stood reeling as his eyes grew accustomed to the semi-darkness. Carta stared at him in horror. ‘What happened?’ She waved Mairghread away.

  ‘I have left Venutios’s service, lady. He is no longer my lord or my leader. He is not a warrior I choose to serve. I pledge my service and my life to you.’ He went down on one knee before her and took her hand.

  Dashing away her tears, she stared down at him. ‘Did you tell him this?’

  ‘Of course. I am a man of honour. I do not sneak away in the dark.’

  ‘He was your friend, Vellocatus.’ She stood looking down at him, her hand still in his. ‘As well as your king.’

  ‘He was once, lady.’ He held her gaze.

  Mairghread cleared her throat from the doorway. She gave Vellocatus a look of intense dislike. ‘The council is ready, my queen. The Druids will not be pleased to be kept waiting.’

  ‘Then go ahead of me and tell them I have been delayed,’ Carta retorted sharply. ‘Now,’ she added as Mairghread hesitated.

  The moment they were alone she gestured at Vellocatus to stand up and gently she touched his face. ‘Is that a sword cut?’

  He shrugged. ‘Venutios and I had a slight exchange.’

  ‘He fought his own sword bearer?’ She was shocked.

  ‘He called me a traitor for supporting you.’ He shrugged. ‘I was lucky to escape with my life.’

  ‘And where is he now?’

  ‘He has ridden back to Caer Lugus with Brucetos and the other Carvetian warriors. And he is vowing to be avenged against you, my queen, for the thousand wrongs he claims you have done. He is planning to depose you. He claims you are not fit to be high queen of Brigantia.’

  She stared at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to steady herself, aware of the young man’s gaze upon her. He glanced round the room suddenly. ‘Where’s Moon?’ He had never seen her without the dog before.

  She shook her head blindly.

  ‘Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry.’ He took her hand again and kissed it.
>
  She took a deep breath and managed to smile at him bleakly. ‘Come with me. You will have to repeat what you have just told me to the council.’

  The warriors and Druids listened gravely. Artgenos stood up at last, stiff and gaunt as he leaned on his staff. ‘You were foolish to divorce him, Cartimandua. The man is now an open enemy. And he has a large following. This finally will divide Brigantia.’

  ‘You would have had me stay married to a man who threatened me? A man who deliberately flouted my decision to form an alliance with Rome? A man who crossed me at every opportunity? A man who,’ she laid her hand for a moment on her stomach, ‘deliberately killed our child?’ She still would not allow herself to feel the pain of those words. Her eyes were hard as she looked round. ‘I can’t believe you - any of you - would support him!’ She paused, staring in turn into the face of every man and woman present. There was total silence around her.

  Artgenos sighed. The omens were bad; the information he had received from his spies worse. He could see darkness ahead. He turned his thoughtful gaze towards Vellocatus. Standing in front of the firelight, the man’s silhouette was ringed with blood.

  Steve was staring at Viv in silence as she sat looking across the vale. He could hear the church bells calling people to Matins from the village in the distance. Dressed in a sweater and jeans and tough boots and with no make-up, she looked the perfect hill walker out for an morning stroll. Except for her face. He shivered miserably. This was Cartimandua’s face. Strong, broad cheekbones, hard green-blue eyes, determined mouth and a voice ringing with power. This was the face of a barbarian queen. The face of a woman who ruled thousands of warriors and a dozen wild powerful tribes. The face of a woman who deep inside could still cry over her lost child, her dog, her lonely longing for a man; a woman who was about to make the greatest mistake of her life.

  ‘Viv?’ he said. There was no response so he had no choice but to listen in ever increasing wonder to what she was saying. ‘Go on,’ he whispered. ‘What happened next?’

  Dismissing her women, Cartimandua led Vellocatus into her private chamber. ‘We need to discuss Venutios’s next moves,’ she said soberly. She sat down near the fire and rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them.

  ‘He will attack.’ Vellocatus sat down at her feet. ‘He is too full of hatred to desist now; and he truly believes he is right.’ He glanced up at her.

  She reached down to touch his shoulder. It was an absent-minded gesture; a gesture little different from the way she used to lean over to fondle the ears of her dog, but Vellocatus seized her hand and brought it to his lips.

  For a moment she pulled away, shocked. Then she relaxed.

  She knew how much he was in love with her and for a long time she had known herself to be strongly attracted to him. Why not? It would bring them both comfort in their loneliness.

  With a smile she leaned down as he looked up at her and their lips touched. ‘My queen!’ He pulled her towards him and as she slid from her stool she found herself lying in his arms beside the fire. ‘You’ll be my downfall, Vellocatus!’ She smiled as she ran her hands across his chest. ‘You must not distract me. We have to plan battles, you and I.’

  He laughed out loud. ‘And so we shall, lady. Battles of love and ecstasy!’

  He was still in her chamber at dawn.

  Mairghread had listened with disgust to the sound of love-making behind the curtains of the queen’s chamber for as long as she could stand it. The Roman she could just about tolerate. He was a mere plaything. The king’s servant she could not. Drawing her cloak around her shoulders she walked out into the night in search of the Archdruid.

  *

  ‘Take him as your lover, if you must!’ Thin and brittle as a twig, but still powerful with the eyes of a hawk, Artgenos drew himself up to his full height as he stood opposite Cartimandua. They were alone now, under the ancient oak which stood by the stream. ‘But for pity’s sake, do not show him too much favour. Vellocatus was your husband’s shield bearer, his charioteer. Scarce more than a servant. Yet you treat him as a warrior and a counsellor. You ask his opinion at every turn. You act like a woman obsessed, and your people resent it deeply.’

  Carta pulled her mantle tightly round her shoulders. There were snowflakes in the wind which was screaming down the dale. In the distance she heard the lonely cry of a wolf.

  ‘Who better to advise me? He understands the way Venutios thinks. He knows what he will do.’

  ‘And what does he say he will do?’ Artgenos looked at her coldly.

  ‘Nothing. He will mutter into his beard and swear and drink more than usual and he will take out his resentment on the Selgovae or the Novantae and in time he will forget.’

  Artgenos let out a groan. ‘Do you really believe that? No, of course you don’t. You are not that naïve! He is at this moment mustering his warriors to attack you! He is calling the Selgovae and the Novantae to his banner against you and against Rome.’

  ‘He wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Of course he would dare! He knows he has only to lift a finger and half the people of Brigantia will flock to his side. You are losing them, Carta. Unless you are very careful and very strong he will win himself the high kingship.’

  She looked at him in silence, stunned. ‘He is nothing without me. Not even a king -’

  ‘He is king of the Carvetii and he has proved himself strong. By divorcing him you have taken from him the status of husband of the high queen, but that is all. And now he is determined to earn his own place at the head of our peoples.’ He sighed patiently, the sound losing itself in the whispering of the winter-day oak leaves over their heads. ‘The gods are not happy.’

  She smiled grimly. ‘They will be. Vellocatus tells me that Brucetos and his sons are travelling south. They plan to recruit support of some sort for Venutios in the land of the Cornovii.’

  Artgenos swung to face her again. ‘So, he has warned you of a specific planned attack?’

  ‘He warned me so I can intercept them.’ She smiled. ‘They have to come through my territories to reach the south. I will be waiting for them. With his brother as my hostage, Artgenos, Venutios will do nothing.’

  Vellocatus drove her war chariot and she stood beside him, her hair stiff with pine-scented hair resins imported from Hispania, her face painted as a warrior, a sword in her hand, her spears in the chariot beside her. At the head of her warriors she made a stirring sight. Wild with anger and excitement she shouted the men onward behind her as they confronted Brucetos and his followers. Two men died at her hand. Vellocatus impaled another on his spear and stabbed another to the heart. Thirty more died at the hands of her followers. Ten of her own men fell to Brucetos before he was captured with his sons and she took him back at last to Dun Righ in chains.

  ‘Don’t be foolish, lady.’ Brucetos was a brave man and had immense respect for her courage, more so, perhaps than his brother. ‘Don’t you see how your men will fall away if you fight Venutios?’

  She studied his face through narrowed eyes. ‘No one will have to fight Venutios if I hold his brother hostage.’

  He shook his head sadly. ‘How little you know him, Cartimandua. If anything this,’ he lifted his chained wrists and shook them over his head, ‘will provoke an attack all the sooner.’

  She laughed. ‘I doubt it. To make sure, I have sent south for help from the Governor of Britannia.’

  There was a stunned silence. Brucetos stared at her. ‘You have summoned Roman help?’ He was shocked to the roots of his soul. ‘And will you give me to them as you gave them Caradoc?’

  She shrugged. ‘Perhaps that threat will keep Venutios at a safe distance.’

  ‘Oh, lady.’ Brucetos shook his head. ‘How wrong you are.’

  IV

  Viv hadn’t spoken for ten minutes. Her eyes were closed. Steve slid down off the wall and stretched. At first he had been terrified by her words, then completely captivated. Now her stillness and silence frightened him again. ‘Viv?
’ He touched her shoulder lightly. ‘Can you hear me?’ She didn’t move and he rested the back of his hand against her cheek for a moment. Her skin was ice cold.

  ‘Viv? We must go on.’ He shivered. The sky was cloudless but the air on the hillside had grown chill. ‘Viv!’ He had watched her describe Carta making love; seen the passion and the longing in her face. He reached out again, his fingers just touching her mouth. She didn’t seem to register his presence. Leaning forward he kissed her gently on the lips. Still she didn’t react.

  ‘Come on, lady. We need to go.’ It was a whisper.

  She blinked. Then at last she moved. ‘Steve?’

  ‘You dozed off in the sunshine.’ He smiled at her fondly. She would never know about the stolen kiss.

  ‘I was dreaming. About Carta and Vellocatus.’ She sounded blurry, as though she was not quite awake. For a moment she didn’t move, then at last she slid off the wall beside him. ‘It was amazing.’

  ‘I heard you. You described them.’

  She glanced at him and he saw a faint blush rise across her cheeks.

  He laughed. ‘Yes. It was quite graphic. I’ve always been rather a fan of Vellocatus. He was a lucky man.’

  ‘Indeed.’ She looked away. ‘You’re right. We need to go. Is it far?’

  They were greeted at the gate of the cottage at the end of the dale by two ecstatic collies.

  ‘Am I glad you’re come to take the dogs back, young Steve!’ Dave was a tall wizened man in his early seventies, his face the colour of polished hazelnuts, his eyes piercing blue. ‘I’ve had the devil’s own job keeping them up here. When your Ma brought them, I told her they wouldn’t stay.’

  ‘Ma brought them up here?’ Steve looked at the old man, astonished.

  He nodded. ‘Said it would only be a couple of days she did.’

  Steve and Viv exchanged puzzled glances. Steve shook his head. ‘I don’t understand any of this.’