Page 10 of Queen of the Hollow Hills

“Gentlemen, you are welcome to Rigodonum this Samhain,” I told them, gesturing for them to be seated. “We have sent Brigantia to her rest, and soon, the long winter will be upon us, and we will not meet again until bright Brigantia awakens. Now is the time for us to plan for the winter. This season has brought much change to the Brigantes, and we have suffered, yes, but the wheel turns. So, we persevere. For now, let us break our fast,” I said, gesturing to the food on the table, “in honor of the new year and then make our plans.”

“Here, here,” Andoc called.

The others knocked their fists on the table and sat once more.

“Aye, Cartimandua, how like your father. You do not leave us waiting with hungry bellies while we talk on and on,” Chieftain Andoc said, giving me a warm smile.

“I would have you well-fed and happy before we come to any hard conversation,” I replied with a grin.

“Let us hope there is none,” he replied with a wink, then turned to Cormag. “You look well, Crow.”

A light smile danced across Cormag’s lips. Cormag had been uncertain about how the others would receive him, but the arrival of the Votadini in our war had turned the tide and won the Brigantes’ appreciation and respect. Since then, the chieftains had warmed to my husband.

“How can one be anything but well in the halls of Rigodonum?” Cormag replied lightly.

Andoc chuckled.

Cormag waved one of the kitchen boys down, whispered to him, the lad running off and returning with a pot of honey, which he sat before me.

I flicked my gaze momentarily to my husband and gave him a grateful smile. Cormag lifted my hand and placed a kiss thereon. I smiled, then turned back to fix my plate. When I did so, I felt another’s eyes on me. My glance shifted a moment down the table to Venutiux, who was looking at Cormag.

There was a look of—was it jealousy?—somethingin his expression. When he saw me, he turned away.

I turned back to my plate, setting cheese and meat thereon and trying not to smother everything in honey.

Six months ago, I was all but sure I would wed Venu. Now, I sat, pregnant, beside my Votadini husband. Venu’s father and brother were dead, and his defeated tribe was now Brigantes. Eddin’s name and lands had also been restored—by my hands. I knew that the gentle spirit that lived secretly with Venu, the one I loved, was in pain. I only hoped his marriage to Alys had offered him some solace. But in truth, the pair did not seem happy. But of course not. Alys had married him because he was a prince with a handsome face. Now that he was a defeatedman… Apparently, he did not shine so brightly with the title of chieftain.

My brow furrowed when I thought of it.

I looked back at Venu, but he was talking with his retainers once more.

Sighing, I turned to Corva, who was watching stoically from behind me.

“Will you not eat?” I asked her.

“After.”

“We are among friends here,” I told her.

She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure?”

I rolled my eyes at her and turned back. A short time after we began, Brodi and Damhan joined us, Fergus and the Votadini’s two other massive dogs along with them.

“Our apologies, Queen Cartimandua,” Brodi told me. “We took the dogs to the lower fields to hunt, and Fergus decided it was a game of chase. It took us an hour to summon him back.”

Cormag smiled at his hound, scratching his ears with the rough pat the dog seemed to love. “You are late, Fergus,” he said, but Fergus merely passed him by on his way to me. Setting his head in my lap, the dog whined sweetly, so I patted him. Tail wagging, he then joined Brodi and Damhan’s dogs, who were comically named Scratch and Beef. The little pack, which had already identified one of the kitchen lads as a food source, went to badger the boy who led them away for something to eat.

“I think you have won Fergus from Prince Cormag, Queen Cartimandua,” Brodi said with a laugh.

“He only likes me because I slip him food.”

“Perhaps you did not know, Queen Cartimandua,” Lord Artoci, who had taken over as chieftain of the Tectoverdi in the wake of Gallmaul’s death, called to me. “The ancient sigil of the Tectoverdi is a hound just like Fergus. It’s your father’s blood that calls to the beast.”

“And here I thought it was meat scraps,” I replied.

The others chuckled.

We passed the meal in pleasant conversation, with Andoc, Cormag, Brodi, Damhan, and the others around us conversing about the best hunting hounds. Cormag shared with the others how the Votadini trained their dogs, to which Andoc and the others listened with great interest. But the conversation turned more serious when the meal was finally done and the plates cleared.

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