Page 18 of Queen of the Hollow Hills

The night passed pleasantly enough. The chieftains talked of the winter to come, but their worries seemed quelled. Alys and Venu did not speak to one another, each keeping company with others around them. I felt sorry for Venu. Alys had never wantedhim, and now that she had him, she was not interested in learning who he really was. My heart ached for him.

Late that night, when the hall was beginning to quiet and the others looked ready for bed, I rose. “Brigantes,” I called. “Our festivities have come to a close. I wish you all safe travels and a quiet and peaceful winter. May the twin goddesses watch over you all and all the Brigantes.”

The others gave a cheer and then slowly prepared to depart, wishing one another farewell one last time.

I turned to Cormag. “I will take the servants’ way up to the chambers. I am tired beyond reason and do not wish to make conversation.”

“Should I come?”

I glanced at Brodi, Damhan, and Aedan, who were gathered and looking like they wanted to drink and talk late into the night. “Linger with the others, if you wish. I will be asleep as soon as I close my eyes anyway.”

Cormag chuckled. “I’ll find you soon.”

“Don’t let Aedan talk you into another bet. He’s been known to cheat,” I said loud enough for the young chieftain to hear.

“My queen!” Aedan said with mock offense.

I chuckled and turned back to Cormag. Setting my hand on his cheek, I smiled, then turned and made my way from the hall, glad that the night was over. As I went, I looked over my shoulder at Venu. He was leaving the hall, his men with him. His wife walked before him with the other ladies, laughing and joking and ignoring her husband completely.

With a heavy sigh, I scanned the room for Corva. Not seeing her, I set off.

My hand went to my stomach. The ceremony and pageantry were finally done. It was time for me and the future of the Brigantes to rest.

CHAPTER 6

Islipped from the hall and through the kitchens, grabbing one last blackberry tart as I made my way up the back stairwell. The servants bowed or curtseyed to me as I went. When I was a girl, I often used the stairwells to avoid unwanted chatter in the halls when things were too loud or too busy. The narrow hallways led to all sections of the fort, creating a maze of their own, built partially into the mountain itself. Off the hallways, narrow cracks in the cave walls disappeared into unseen caves.

A cool wind blew from within the mountain as I passed one such place at a junction in the stairwell. To my left, a crack in the rocks where the fort and mountain met was one of several natural caves we used as larders for the kitchens.

“Cartimandua,” a soft voice whispered from within.

Dim light shimmered from the small brazier that burned inside. In a shadow reflected on the wall, I saw the shape of something like a man.

My breath caught.

“Cartimandua, come. Come into the shadows,” the voice whispered.

I touched my chest where the Cailleach has placed a heart of stone.

“Come…” the voice hissed.

I turned from the stairwell and made my way into the larder. It was cool there. Baskets and wooden bins full of goods, made ready for the winter, filled the place. I passed through a narrow passage into the back of the space where the cave wall bent toward the ground and slim cracks in the rocks, too small for an adult to pass through, breathed cold air. I saw movement away from the light of the single brazier that burned at the back of the cave.

Sensing I was not alone, I paused. “I am here,” I whispered, my heart beating loudly in my chest.

“Queen of the hollow mountains, beware. In fires born amongst marble halls, darkness whispers to purple-draped madmen of the riches beyond Ocean. Do not pause to dream, crow queen. Build your nest of bone, for men’s greed knows no bounds. Around you is darkness, death, and false hearts.”

“What false hearts? Whose?”

“You must be watchful to protect what is yours—ours—queen of the misty mountains. Protect the hollow hills. Protect us all.”

“I honor you, but do not play with words. Tell me what you have foreseen so I may better stamp out the fires.”

But the one who had spoken was gone, and I was alone in the shadows again.

Death. False hearts. And purple-draped madmen.

The last I understood well. Although Corva was already establishing my network of spies, I was too ignorant of the giant beyond our shores. I needed to learn more. My Latin was passable but weak. My knowledge of the Roman gods and manners was limited. Whatever was coming, I needed to be ready.

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