Free Highland Raven by Melanie Karsak Page B

papers.
    “Calculating our projected harvest compared to last year’s and determining if we will have enough to get us through next winter,” Epona said, her brows furrowing.
    I looked at her papers. They looked like scribbles to me.
    Epona saw me. “Tomorrow, after dinner, you and Ludmilla will begin your lessons in writing.”
    I nodded affirmatively and scarfed down the rest of my dinner. Almost immediately, I began to feel drunk from the food. Sid’s eyes also drifted.
    “Go to bed, girls,” Epona said with a laugh.
    Thankful, Sid and I departed.
    Outside, Sid pulled me into an embrace. Her body was a frail thing, her bones jutting out sharply from just below her skin. But she felt warm and so familiar.
    “So what was your name when I was Boudicca?” I whispered in her ear.
    “Aife,” Sid whispered back. “But more importantly, your friend…always and forever. So, goodnight, Raven Beak,” she said, tapping me playfully on the nose, then headed back toward her house.
    I smiled as I watched her go then went back to my own little house. Inside, Ludmilla was already sleeping. I crawled into bed beside my puppy who now wore a small wreath, a protective amulet, around her neck. I was curious but far too exhausted to examine it. Besides, my mind felt like it was bursting. One day I was sitting, bored, at the hearth beside Madelaine. The next day my world was full of magical tidings and old, forgotten things: I was a reincarnate of the warrior queen Boudicca, but I was called Cerridwen by the magical Wyrd Sisters who had shown me my King. A month before I had lamented that I couldn’t do embroidery; now I was firmly in the hands of the Goddess. The thought of it filled me from head to toe with nervous passion.

Chapter 9
     
    For the next few weeks , I worked with Uald in the smithy. Since court dresses were too cumbersome, I wore my travel breeches and cut my night dresses at the waist as a tunic. The first few days my arms ached. As I continued to work, however, my body got used to the feeling. All my life I’d been kept from men’s work, but now I could see. I loved it, and so did Uald. In fact, Uald surprised me one morning when instead of instructing me to pound steel, she handed me a sword, but not just any sword, a claymore.
    I lifted the heavy weapon. The metal hilt felt cold in my hands, but I liked the feel of the weapon. I’d always wanted to learn the ways of the sword, like the warrior queens of old, but I wasn’t allowed. It was thought too vulgar for a woman to wield a weapon. Sunlight glinted off the blade. I swished the sword back and forth. Boudicca. Was it true? Were the visions memory or madness? I had always been imaginative, that was certain, but those who followed the old ways believed a spirit lived many lives. Yet visions sometimes spoke of madness, and my head hummed oddly when I thought of it, like I was hearing muffled voices, as if time had thrust itself out of joint. I gripped the steel and closed my eyes. I was not mad. I had remembered Boudicca’s world, the feel of my body and the warmth of my blood. It was time to practice my skills again.
    “I think that claymore weighs more than you do,” Uald said with a grin. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got,” she added. Giving the short sword she was holding a spin, Uald stood ready.
    I lifted the sword clumsily and swung it from side to side, trying to get the feel of the weapon. It was very heavy, but I loved it.
    “Ready?” Uald asked.
    I nodded.
    “Just try to block me. Move the sword in my path.”
    I nodded again, and Uald made the first lunge. She was so fast that it caught me by surprise. I didn’t have a chance to move in time. Moments later, I was looking at Uald down the length of her blade.
    “Dead,” she said, pulling her blade back. “Try again.”
    I grinned at her, held the sword, and waited.
    Uald lunged again. My instincts worked against me. I wanted to block but my body moved clumsily. She then feinted.