Daughters of Fire

by Barbara Erskine

  ‘You dare to tell me what the gods want?’ Peggy sneered. ‘I don’t know who you are, but this is none of your business! Drink it!’ She was pointing the knife at Hugh again.

  Hugh raised the mug to his lips. It smelled sweet, but then mead always was, with behind it a bitter herbal undertone. Even the aroma made him feel unsteady. He lowered the mug without tasting it, staring out across the falls, mesmerised by the thunder of water on the rocks below.

  Peggy smiled. ‘It’s good, isn’t it.’ She turned to Steve.

  Nodding, he took another sip.

  Meryn glanced at Hugh. Venutios was standing immediately behind him. As Meryn watched, the two figures blended into one.

  ‘Hugh!’ Meryn stepped closer. ‘Move away from the falls.’

  Hugh didn’t hear him. It was Venutios who shook his head. ‘This woman wants to perpetuate Medb’s spite. She has to die. She can be a sacrifice to the gods.’ His voice blended with the thundering of the waters behind him.

  Meryn edged closer. ‘The gods forbid this! The omens are wrong!’

  ‘Sacrifice?’ Steve looked up. He took another sip from the mug.

  Behind them the moonlight swirled in the spray.

  ‘Venutios! I forbid this!’ Meryn moved closer. His voice was formidable against the roar of the falls.

  Venutios held his gaze. ‘Medb died with a curse on her lips. She made promises which need to be broken!’

  ‘No. Listen to me! This is forbidden!’ Meryn was very close to him now. ‘This woman is not a suitable messenger. She is tainted.’

  Peggy looked round at him. She seemed confused. The knife wavered in her hand. The moonlight on the water was dazzling. The moment had come and she was ready. With a smile she stepped towards the edge of the path.

  V

  Carta kissed Vellocatus on the forehead as he lay unconscious on their bed, covered with furs to keep him warm, then she walked out through the great gates in the rampart walls. Vivienne would helpVellocatus. She would save him in exchange for a sacrifice. She would make everything all right again. She ignored the warriors who ran after her and the flames that rent the night sky to the north. She ignored the distant steady beat of a deerskin drum. Her eyes were fixed on the path at her feet. She had to reach the place of sacrifice.

  ‘Come back, now! We have to close the gates!’ Someone caught her arm. Someone else was forcing her to turn, dragging her back inside as the huge oak gates were swung closed and barred.

  She stood staring round, dazed. The whole tribe were there, huddling in the shelter of the ramparts, hundreds of people, wide-eyed, afraid. With their livestock and as many of their belongings as they could carry, they had been streaming in from their smallholdings and farms in the dales and on the moors and deep in the forest, up the hill towards the fort since Venutios’s army had been spied marching inexorably southwards towards them.

  ‘Come back to Vellocatus, lady. He needs you.’ Gruoch and her Druids were there inside the stockade too, though the Carvetii would never harm the Druid college or any of its members.

  ‘Venutios is here!’ The words, laden with fear, were spreading like wildfire around the fort.

  ‘Set up the ghost fence. The spirits of our ancestors will save us,’ Carta implored Gruoch.

  The woman shook her head. ‘Not possible. Our ancestors will not guard us against our own brothers and our sons. These are our own people, Carta. Venutios is one of us!’

  Slowly Carta climbed the steps to the top of the ramparts and stood looking out across the fells towards the forest. In her head she would transfer herself into the form of a bird, an owl to fly silently over the trees in the darkness so that she could still reach the great falls, the place of sacrifice. In her vision she would oversee it all. Vivienne was waiting. The priestess of the falls was ready.

  In her dream she flew through the curtains of birch and yew and juniper and the tangle of undergrowth gliding downwards, until she could hear the roar of the water; smell it; sense its clean invigorating excitement. Her sacrifice would be to the goddess, Vivienne, but also this time to Camulos, the god of war. All was ready. The ceremony planned, the victim chosen and waiting by the great hungry falls. When at last she folded her wings and came to rest, feeling the rock tremble beneath her talons, she could see Peggy clearly. She was sitting with Steve on the rocks, right on the edge of the drop. In the moonlight the spray shone like silver, lighting the whole scene. Steve was lolling backwards; she could see his mouth open; was he laughing or screaming? She couldn’t hear because of the thunder of the waters.

  Venutios was watching, and with him a Druid priest.

  Peggy! Stop! Don’t!

  That was what she wanted to say.

  The goddess, cold and implacable, stopped her.

  She could hear the sound of a horn, the deep note reverberating above the roar of the water. The note of the carnyx.

  She felt herself grow cold.

  Her voice, when she spoke again to Pat and James on the dark limestone slabs, was her own.

  ‘Venutios was there. He arrived at Dun Righ before she witnessed the sacrifice and she knew this time he would kill her. If the gods would not help her she had no alternative but to send for Gaius again,’ she whispered. ‘In her despair, without Vellocatus to help her, she sent for Gaius and in the depths of the fire she watched her messenger ride south.’

  The Brigantian, well aware of his mistress’s watching eyes, demanded to see Gaius with such urgency that the legionnaire in the outer office bade the muddy, ragged, unshaven man wait and he sent word to Gaius at once. He was in attendance on the Governor.

  ‘Cartimandua bade me find you. She needs you and your men, Roman. Venutios is at her gate again and this time he means to kill her.’

  Gaius frowned, tempted to turn the man away. One glance at the man behind the desk told him otherwise.

  ‘As always she is our last chance to hold the north at bay, Gaius. Without her the whole northern frontier will be at Venutios’s mercy. We cannot afford the distraction now of all times.’

  Even so, they could not spare a legion. A wing was mustered at once from the garrison at Deva and marched into the teeth of the wind.

  Carta ordered her army to attack Venutios at dawn. It poured out of the gates, the men holding their banners before them to drive him from her walls.

  She watched them go, then she withdrew to the royal house to sit with Vellocatus. His wound had turned black. The strongest herbs could not mask the smell of the putrid flesh as he lay tossing and turning with fever.

  Gruoch and her Druidesses redressed the wound as best they could. Only the gods could save him now.

  As the battle raged on the distant fells, only a handful of men remained to guard the fort and the women and children who remained there, and half of them secretly welcomed the coming of Venutios. Whilst Carta sat weeping at her husband’s side the great gate opened a crack. Into the darkness of the compound a band of Carvetian warriors, a file of shadowy figures in the darkness, crept into the heart of the township. No one saw them come. No one opposed them until with shouts and yells of triumph they raced between the houses, brandishing their swords. Two of Carta’s guards were cut down where they stood and the night sky flared as burning torches were tossed onto the heather roofs of the houses.

  Carta did not move. If she heard anything she gave no sign, holding Vellocatus’s hand. ‘Soon you will be better, my love!’ She sponged his forehead gently. ‘I will make everything all right. Do not fear.’

  The screams and shouts outside grew louder and now she could smell the burning as Gruoch ran into the room. ‘My queen, the house is on fire. You must come. We’ll move Vellocatus. You can’t stay here.’

  ‘You can’t move him.’ Carta stood up. ‘It would kill him.’

  ‘It will kill him if he stays!’ Gruoch pursed her lips. ‘You will die, my queen!’ Gruoch was desperate.

  ‘Leave me. The gods will protect us.’ Wisps of burning heather blew in thro
ugh the doorway. The roof was sodden from all the rain but in places the fire, fed by the pitch on the burning torches, was taking hold. They could hear the crackling above their heads.

  ‘I will fetch men with a stretcher for him!’ Gruoch whirled round and disappeared through the doorway.

  ‘Such a fuss, sweetheart!’ Carta knelt beside the bed.

  Vellocatus reached upto her and touched her face. ‘Go,’ he whispered. ‘Leave me. I’m dying anyway. Please go.’

  ‘I would never leave you!’ She bent to kiss him as Gruoch reappeared in the doorway. Behind her strode three Roman soldiers. They had defied all the odds to reach Brigantia in time. ‘There. He’s there.’ Gruoch gestured at the bed. ‘Please save him.’

  Two of the men carried a litter. The third was Gaius. ‘Out, now.’ He seized Carta’s wrist. ‘My men will bring your husband!’

  He pulled her to her feet as a clump of burning heather dropped almost on top of them. There was a roar as the roof went up. ‘Now!’ Somehow he had her in his arms and ran with her out of the entrance, into the open air. Behind them the two men had thrown Vellocatus onto the litter. They had barely managed to emerge as the roof collapsed. All around them the Romans were fighting and the Carvetian warriors had fallen back. A few of them were running for the gate. Others were being hacked to pieces where they stood. The men with the litter ran with it towards the guest house near the wall, which was untouched by fire. As they carried Vellocatus inside, Gaius followed with Carta still in his arms. Only when they were inside did he set her down. Behind them two soldiers stood guard at the doorway.

  ‘Vellocatus!’ Carta flung herself down beside the litter which had been put down on the floor. ‘Sweetheart, are you all right?’ He did not answer. ‘Vellocatus?’ Her voice broke. The hand which had been hot with fever was ice cold. ‘My love. My life.’ She bent to kiss his forehead.

  Gaius stood back with a sigh. He folded his arms. Behind him one of his men approached and saluted. ‘They’ve gone. The fort is secure, sir. They thought there were more of us than there are.’ He gave a grim smile.

  Gaius nodded. ‘You did well. Leave us now. I fear the king is dead.’

  The man glanced at the man on the floor and the weeping woman and nodding, he withdrew.

  ‘The goddess will save him.’ Carta looked up at Gaius and smiled through her tears. ‘He’s only asleep.’ She bent to Vellocatus again, her lips brushing his forehead. Suddenly she caught sight of the brooch on his mantle and with an exclamation of disgust she tore it off. Climbing to her feet, she ran outside and hurled it into the burning ruins of the round house. For a moment she stood watching as the walls of the building collapsed over it. When she returned she paused in the doorway as though seeing Gaius properly for the first time. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘I came as you asked, Great Queen.’ He frowned. Strangely she had never looked more beautiful to him in spite of her dishevelled gown, her soot-stained face, the tears. Great Queen. The words were ironic in the shambles of the burned-out fort with the roar of battle only some half-mile away.

  ‘He will be all right?’ ‘She seemed completely disorientated as she stared down at the dead man on the litter at their feet. ‘Look.’ She put her hand into the fold of her cloak and pulled out a small golden knife. ‘The sacrifice is being carried out as we speak.’ She smiled again. ‘A life for a life. The gods will spare Vellocatus if they receive another in his place.’ She raised the knife as though about to stab the empty air.

  Gaius found himself shuddering. Catching her wrist, he forced the knife out of her hand. ‘Vellocatus is dead,’ he said softly. ‘It is too late.’

  She stared at him. ‘No. He sleeps. The goddess is going to spare him. She has promised …’ She looked bewildered.

  ‘Your goddess does not want more sacrifice.’ He tucked the knife into his belt. ‘Human sacrifice is banned under the Empire. Surely you know that?’ He had seen no sign of the intended victim. ‘Surely enough men have died today to satisfy even one of your bloodthirsty gods!’

  ‘We are not part of the Empire.’ She managed a reproof through the tears. ‘Our gods are still strong, Gaius Flavius Cerialis, and I need to send them a messenger. Someone who will go willingly. You have my knife, but it doesn’t matter. Someone else will sacrifice for me, tonight.’

  Standing away from him, she raised her arms and threw back her head.

  Vivienne!

  Gaius quailed at her scream.

  Vivienne, take the sacrifice I send you and give me back my love!

  By the falls, Peggy stood up and held out the knife. The blade shone silver in the moonlight.

  Steve was staring at her and he giggled. ‘You look mag-nis-i-fent! Have some!’ He waved the plastic mug towards her, spilling drops of mead across the rocks. None of them noticed the owl on the branch of the yew tree nearby, watching the scene with unblinking eyes.

  Vivienne!

  Did anyone else hear that desperate scream? Meryn frowned. He could see Venutios clearly; see him smiling. He was between the falls and Medb, silhouetted against the flash of white foam from the water below the path, and the moonlight on the spindrift.

  Gaius touched Cartimandua’s shoulder gently. ‘You must collect any belongings that can be salvaged and summon your companions. It is not safe for you here. You are completely unprotected. There are other war bands in the area. We can’t hold them off for long. Not this time.’ He stepped back to allow her to leave the house in front of him. When she didn’t move he put out a hand, and then an arm around her shoulder. ‘Say goodbye to him, then come. We have to leave. We will send Vellocatus to the gods before we go.’

  She shook her head. ‘My warriors will return.’

  ‘Your warriors have been wiped out, Carta.’ His voice was gentle. ‘There is nothing for you here. Venutios has won for now.’

  ‘No. My people will support me.’

  He grimaced. As far as he could see her people had gone. Even the Druidesses had fled as his soldiers searched the township for remnants of the Carvetian attackers. The Governor was going to be furious. The last bastion of the client kingdom had gone with her influence. Now there would be open war with Venutios all along the northern borders.

  ‘I must take you somewhere safe, Carta. I’m sorry. You cannot stay.’ He shook his head, desperately sorry for her. ‘This is the end. You are no longer queen.’

  VI

  Viv stirred. She frowned. It was cold and dark. The moon had disappeared. Pat was sitting on the cold stone slabs near her; beside her stood an elderly man. ‘What’s happened? Why are we here?’ Viv scrambled to her feet. ‘I have to go! I have to stop her!’ Someone had put a coat round her shoulders and she tore it off, throwing it onto the ground.

  ‘Viv! Wait!’ Pat grabbed at her but Viv had gone, scrambling over the rocks into the darkness. Not knowing where she was going she pushed through trees and shrubs, slid down through the mud and over rocks and stones, feeling brambles tearing at her arms and legs, drawn by the sound of water. As she reached the top of the falls the moon broke through the cloud and as the darkness drew back, she saw the figures on the path below her.

  Steve was sitting on the edge of the path, one leg hanging over the edge of the rocks above the thundering water. He was swaying slightly, smiling, the empty beaker dangling from one hand.

  ‘Peggy?’ She heard the tall man standing near him call out. ‘Can you hear me? Stay there. Don’t move.’ Peggy was standing on the very edge of the path, her arm outstretched. The blade of the knife in her hand caught the moonlight, a silver flash in the darkness. Viv gasped. This was her fault! She had created this scene in her dream. She looked desperately from one to the other as the stranger stepped closer to Peggy. ‘Do you want your son to die, Peggy? Listen to me!’ He was only a couple of feet from her now. ‘Put down the knife and tell him to move away from the edge. This is not what the goddess wants!’

  Hugh was there, not far from Steve, his clothes drenched by the spray.
Except it wasn’t Hugh. It was Venutios. She could see his tunic, the fur cloak, the necklace of bears’ teeth around his neck. And suddenly she knew who this stranger was. This was Meryn. This was a Druid.

  Moving forward, she stepped into the moonlight near them. ‘Medb!’ she screamed. ‘Venutios! This man is a Druid! You have to obey him! He speaks with the gods!’ She brushed the hair out of her eyes, leaving a streak of blood from the bramble scratches across her face.

  Hugh stared at her. ‘Cartimandua?’ She couldn’t hear him. The roar of the falls drowned out every sound.

  Meryn moved another step towards Hugh. Viv could see his swirling cloak of sacred Druidic feathers, the staff in his fist as he raised both hands in a wild invocation and for a moment she quailed.

  ‘The goddess does not want more blood!’ he called. ‘Venutios! Leave this man. Go now. I have battled with stronger men than you and won. You will obey me! Your people need you in another world. You have no place here. Medb has no place here. Nor Cartimandua.’ He swung and faced Viv, holding her with his piercing gaze. ‘It is over. Your story is told! In the name of all the gods - go!’ His words rang off the rocks around them. Viv felt the power of his gaze as a physical blow in her solar plexus. He was holding them all in the web of power between his upraised hands.

  Viv gazed at Hugh. She was seeing double. She saw a shadow detach from his body. For a moment the figure of Venutios stood beside him, completely separate. She saw his face clearly, his tattoos, saw him lift his hand in her direction and with a sudden shock she felt her eyes fill with tears.

  ‘Venutios!’ It was Cartimandua who let out the wailing cry of farewell. Sadness and regret engulfed her. Then Venutios was gone.

  Viv knew that Cartimandua too had left at last as she raised her head, aware that Hugh had put his arms around her. She stared at Meryn. ‘You sent them away. I saw you! Your cloak of feathers! Your staff!’ He was wearing an old checked shirt and jeans.