Free The Warrior and the Druidess by Cornelia Amiri Page A

horses. The rode at a gallop behind Brude. Then, at their rear, Huctia, Gethin and the other foot warriors ran toward the camp of the 9 th Legion.
     
    * * * * *
     
    A dry wind whipped Tanwen’s hair about her face as she took the well-worn dirt path to the top of the green hill. She raised her arms to the night sky.
     
    “Hail, Goddess Andraste.
    War is in your heart,
    and you are in
    the heart of warriors.”
    Her arms tingled as the energy of the goddess streamed through her.
    “Onward to battle.
    In your wake,
    our enemies quake.”
    An inner heat pulsated from her toes to her fingertips to the top of her head.
    “Come Forth, Andraste,
    undefeated battle heroine,
    mounted on Maten,
    galloping across the sky.”
    The vitality of the goddess flowed in her.
    “Hear my call.
    On magic stallion,
    fly to me,
    goddess of victory.”
     
    She leaned her head back and let the goddess form her words as she chanted a sleeping spell to cast the Roman guards into a deep slumber.
    “Drift away.” Images of Roman sentries dropping off to sleep filled her mind. She was but a breeze circling around the legionaries. “Deep, deep, deep in sleep.” Though they were far away, she magically surrounded them and lulled them. “Sleep, Roman sentries, sleep.”
    The virile energy which had jolted through her now vanished. Dizzy and spent, she sat down on the ground, crossed her legs in druid fashion then breathed deeply to restore her stamina. Brude and his men would slay the slumbering guards with ease and take the fort by surprise. She’d given Brude the advantage he needed, calling for the justice and vengeance of the goddess’s long ash spear. Now, she but waited for him to return alive and whole.
    She closed her eyes and concentrated on the image of Brude’s full smile, which lit up his entire face, with its evenly spaced features and magnetic eyes that her soul dove into. She could gaze at him forever. She whispered aloud to the wind, “Brude, I love you.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    The nude Pict warriors rode and ran into the dense forest that bordered the fort. Those on horses dismounted. They gathered around Brude, along with the warriors on foot.
    “Here, under the cover of bush and bracken, we will hide until night conceals all in darkness. Then, we attack. “Brude watched over the warriors of the confederated army of northern tribes as they climbed up trees and hid behind trunks, their flesh bare like the other animals of the woods. Only they were deadlier than the beasts. Brude set his mind to think like an animal, for he had to kill or be killed. He would run as fast as a galloping horse and attack with the viciousness of a female boar. He would tear into his enemies like a wild wolf and strike as silently as a snake.
    The massacres at the druid learning center on Ynys Mon kindled his rage.  The Romans had slaughtered sacred peacekeepers, holy men and women. He recalled stories of women, even maidens who had not yet reached womanhood, raped by gangs of legionaries and auxiliaries. Women and children were captured and enslaved by Romans, shackled in heavy chains and then shipped overseas. Dogs were not treated as cruelly as the Romans treated his people.
    With his blood lust boiling and a war scowl on his face, Brude led his men through the forest. He and his warriors stepped so lightly, their footsteps fell silent. The men near nut trees and berry bushes picked nuts and fruit and then dispersed them to the others. They all munched like squirrels, more to pass the time as they waited than to stave off hunger.
    Thoughts of Tanwen filled Brude’s mind as he squatted behind the trunk of an ancient oak. The confidence by which she held her head high and her piercing, eyes lent strength and bravery to her beauty, enhancing the delicate features of her face. Thoughts of her legs, her hips, her breasts, all slender yet curvy, scorched his blood and powered his heart into a pounding rhythm. But to wake up to the same woman each