Free Song for a Dark Queen by Rosemary Sutcliff

eyes that might have frightened a wiser man. ‘I am thinking that Imperial Rome may have good cause to take account of
this
Queen!’ she said.
    ‘Threats, from those without power, have a hollow sound.’ The Procurator tapped the scroll with his fingers. ‘There is more. Would you like to hear it?’
    ‘I would hear it, that I may know all that comes against the Horse People.’
    ‘Ah no, this does not concern the Horse People, only yourself and your daughters.’
    Behind her, I saw the Princesses move closer together.
    ‘I make no doubt you know already that your late husband in his will named the Divine Emperor as heir to his personal fortune.’
    ‘Half his personal fortune,’ said the Queen.
    ‘Ah, to be sure. But the Emperor makes no doubt that that was an oversight. You and your daughters will have enough, far more than enough, in your own right, even from the sale of your jewels if need be, to live quietly, as you will be living from now on. If it were not so, the Emperor would of course provide you with a small state pension. But he is extremely short of money just at present. The citizens of Rome require a great many circuses to keep them happy, and circuses are not cheap. Divine Caesar is convinced that your late husband did not leave him his whole fortune simply because he was not aware of this.’ His smile broadened, showing yet more teeth. ‘And so, rather than take offence at the oversight, he has resolved to take the will for the deed, and accept the whole. I am commanded to attend to all matters concerning the collection of his inheritance.’
    Boudicca went on looking at him. Then she said in that cool, almost gentle voice, ‘Your mother must have wept for shame on the day she bore you.’
    He made a tiny movement as though the farthest tip of a whiplash had flicked him. But still he kept his smooth official manner, and for the moment there was mockery in his tone. ‘Ah now, I cry your mercy, Lady! Remember I am but the Emperor’s Procurator, carrying out the Emperor’s orders.’
    ‘I do remember that,’ said Boudicca. ‘Little man, it is easy to remember.’ And then, ‘My Lord’s wealth was for the most part in horses and cattle, after the way of our people. Brood mares and half-wild colts and unbroken stallions. Have you brought enough herd riders with you to handle such a legacy?’
    ‘They need not all be run south in one drove; and for the first, a few herding slaves in part payment –’
    ‘Our herds are handled by free men of the people.’
    He made an impatient gesture. ‘These are trifling matters, to be dealt with at another time.’
    ‘Surely,’ said the Queen. ‘But the other thing that is in the Emperor’s scroll, the first thing, that is no trifling matter.’
    And all the while I was thinking, ‘This is not Boudicca, this creature of dream-bound calm. None of this is Boudicca.’ And I was cold afraid, and missed what came after, until the Procurator and his men were getting to their feet.
    Decianus Catus was saying, ‘Meanwhile the hour draws on to supper time. Will you give orders for meal and oil and wine to be issued to the Escort, and bid your slaves to show us to our sleeping places, that we may wash off the dust of the road, before we eat?’
    ‘Your Escort shall be fed,’ said the Queen. ‘Where is it that you and your fellows think to eat?’
    ‘This, that was your husband’s hall, will do well enough.’
    ‘As it pleases you. My daughters and I will eat in the women’s quarters.’
    ‘Ah no, to eat and yet lack the pleasure of female company, that is but half a meal. Where is your British hospitality? Besides, it may be that some of these matters of which we have spoken, trifling or no, may be sorted out more smoothly across the supper table.’
    ‘This also is an order?’ said the Queen.
    ‘It is.’
    ‘Another of the Divine Emperor’s?’
    ‘No, of mine, my Lady Boudicca.’
    She gave him back look for look. ‘You are not