Song for a Dark Queen Read Online Free Page B

deep with fine wolf and deerskin rugs against the icy draughts that whistled along the floor; for the wind was rising, and would be blowing a full gale from off the sea by dawn. And standing at the foot of the bedplace, the women took the silver moon headdress from Boudicca, and stripped her naked, then flung a cloak round her against the cold; while the young braves did the same for Prasutagus the King. And then it was time for the last ceremony of all. For drinking the Bride Cup of apple wine and honey and certain herbs. And Boudicca looked to her women, for Rhun to bring it to her. But before the old nurse could make any move, Prasutagus crooked a finger to Cadog, his armour-bearer, and the boy stepped out from the shadows,bearing a cup that was certainly no Bride Cup of the Iceni. A cup such as I had never seen before; and strange, very strange.
    It was a glass calyx, I judged of Roman workmanship; but I had seen Roman glass before, none like this; an inner cup held within an outer; yet the outer was indeed no cup at all, but an interweaving tangle of figures that seemed to stand clear away from the glass behind them. Later, when I came to know it well, and had more than once held it in my hands, I knew that the figures were strange indeed; half-man and half-horse, with struggling girls caught among them, and all linked and laced together with the twisted branches of trees, and that they touched the inner calyx nowhere but at the rim and the base. Surely, even among the Romans, there must be some who have the secret of magic-making. That night, I knew only that it was strange and beautiful, and that it was green. The dark, lifeless and lightless green of forest depths in late summer.
    Prasutagus took it from his armour-bearer, and held it to Boudicca. She looked, but made no move to take it. ‘What is this?’
    ‘Your Bride Cup,’ he said.
    ‘It is no cup of mine.’
    ‘It is now,’ Prasutagus said in his level voice. ‘It is my third Bride Gift to you.’
    And his voice was gentle, but the set of his mouth was that of a man who will wait a very long time, but will not in the end be denied.
    There was silence. No more laughter in the Royal Chamber, only the soughing of the rising wind across the thatch, and somewhere the mocking cry of an owl. And in the heart of the silence, I watched the battle ofwills between those two. And I knew what it meant to Prasutagus that she should drink the Bride wine from that cup of his giving. She was among her own kind in her own world; he was the stranger, coming in from outside. For two years he had been broken and trained like a chariot pony, and had not found it easy, even as I had said to Boudicca in the apple garth. He was nothing in his own right, only because he had been chosen to marry with the Queen. He was young and proud, and to make the matter worse for him, he loved her. Therefore he had given her this third gift; the most beautiful thing that he could find, a lover’s gift; therefore he was determined that she should drink the Bride drink from it. In this one thing he would be her Marriage Lord indeed.
    At last, Boudicca gave a little sigh, and put out her hands to take the cup. She held it so lightly, looking down into it, that for a moment I wondered if she were going to deliberately part her hands and let it fall and shatter on the flagged floor. But she raised it and drank. And as she did so, the full magic of the cup appeared; for as the light of the pine-knot torches caught and shone through it, it flamed from its dark shadow-green into shadowy fires, glowing with the furnace colours of a winter sunset over the marsh. There was a murmur, a breath of startled wonder, from those of us looking on. But Boudicca made no sign, only drank, and gave the cup again to Prasutagus. His hand enclosed hers for an instant as he took it back; then he drained the cup and turned to give it to Old Nurse, who was hovering near. And again, now that it had lost the torchlight, it