Page 23 of Queen of the Hollow Hills

“She did not ask you to come,” Corva said, frowning at the note.

“No,” I replied. “She writes that the snow is deep, the winter is too cold, and because I am with child, she did not want me to risk it.”

Corva was not the only one who had bristled at the idea that Ystradwel had been seated as chieftain without me present. I should have also been at Cam’s funeral rites. It was unseemly that I had not been there.

I sighed. “I made one trip into the city to see if anyone had walnuts, and now the whole tribe is talking about my belly. Your little ones have caused me to be disinvited to ceremonies. I must say, I am very put out,” I told Cormag, giving him a mock scolding glance.

Cormag chuckled. “I am happy to accept that blame. But Ystradwel is right. The snow is four feet deep in the mountain passes,” Cormag said as he gazed out the window. “And youarestarting to get very round.”

Fabius, who’d been sitting in the corner of my workroom, preparing my lesson, looked up. “Are you feeling brave this morning, King Consort?”

I glared jokingly at Cormag.

“I am only saying, my blackthorn queen, that Ystradwel had good reason,” Cormag added.

“That may be,” Corva replied. “But no other Brigantes chieftains were in attendance. Others could have made the trek. And our eyes in Bell’s Harbor report the affair was more like a queen’s crowning than a chieftain's making.”

“Maybe she heard the story of what happened to Julius Caesar and did not want others around,” Fabius said absently, causing us to turn and look at him.

“What happened to Caesar?” I asked.

“Well, after he smashed about your little island, about sixty of his dearest friends invited him to a ceremony where he was assassinated. Twenty-three stabs in total.”

“That math does not add up. Perhaps I should have found a different tutor,” Corva told Fabius.

Fabius mock-counted on his fingers, then shrugged, making Corva shake her head.

“I understood he had been assassinated, but…” I said.

“See, it’s not good to attend all ceremonies, my queen. Just ask Caesar.”

“He got what he deserved,” Corva replied.

“Cheers to that, Priestess,” Fabius replied, lifting his cup in toast.

I sighed heavily. “I really wish I had found some walnuts.”

“As do we all,” Corva replied, sounding mildly exasperated. “We’ve heard of nothing else these last weeks.”

“I sent to Mydils. If any arrive by port, they are yours,” Cormag told me.

I sighed once more, making the others laugh.

“In the meantime, let us plan for Yule,” I said, trying to distract myself from my conflicted feelings over Ystradwel’s choices and my never-ending craving for walnuts. “In my grandfather’s time, he would open the fort and invite the people for a bonfire and games, but the fort outgrew the festivities, so no more parties were held save offering an ale cart and cakes at the city center. I think we can do betterifyou’ve left me any silver,” I told Corva.

“I have seen your vault, Cartimandua. You have no shortage of silver. And I do not think you will complain when you see your three new trading ships this spring.”

“Let’s make the arrangements. A festival to begin a new era. We will hold it in the new square in the expanded fort. All are welcome, near and far, and a new sword for any who brings their queen a bag of walnuts.”

“Is that an official proclamation, my queen?” Fabius asked.

I laughed. “The direst of any I have yet proclaimed.”

While I feltunsettled over the news of Cam’s death, Ystradwel’s reassurances and my crows’ eyes in Bell’s Harbor told me that while the Setantii still showed signs of difficulty accepting they were a client tribe, not a kingdom, there were no signs of a full-blown rebellion. At the least, that was good news. The winter would keep things quiet. Come spring, however, I would need to be watchful.

With everything else peaceful, I turned my attention to the Yule festivities. The festival would bring people to celebrate from far and wide. There would be bonfires, music, games, drink, and food.

Over the next week, I had wood brought in for the bonfires, sent men to string up garlands, saw to it that a pair of yule logs—one for the Cailleach, another for Brigantia—were carved, and had the kitchen working hard baking loaves of bread and cakes in preparation for the event.

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