Liliwin

Chapter Two

"The Goddess of War?" barked Baldulf, "Why don't we just call on the magical rabbit. Or the enchanted stag. They could surely crush our enemies." Sarcasm was thick in his voice, for Baldulf did not believe in the Gods. Olsafa turned her nose up at him. 

"Speaking ill of the Gods is dangerous," she whispered, yet her voice held strength as if she were yelling, "Do not forget that, Baldulf the Strong." Her glare penetrated his hide, and he shrank back a bit. Liliwin smirked. 

"Mother," muttered Caratacus, "I believe our strength lies in numbers and skill, not in the favor of the Gods." 

Her father had once been a strong believer, but all that had changed when Liliwin's mother had died. Something inside him had died with her, and Liliwin's baby brother, and his faith had suffered for it. 

To think, thought Liliwin. If my brother had only survived his birth, I might be the next shaman, and he would be the next chief. But the thought was a fantasy, wispy and thin as the wind. 

"I agree with seanmhair," said Liliwin, "I think having the might of Freyja on our side would not be a bad thing. What's the worst that could happen?" 

"We could anger her," spat one of the other elders. A woman of beauty and spite, Agnes Hearde was another chieftess hopeful. But Agnes would only receive the position if Liliwin were to die, as she was the adopted daughter of Liliwin's deceased uncle. Liliwin had to be careful around her, because she was cunning, and Liliwin suspected that Agnes was secretly planning her assassination. 

"Freyja has always been on our side," spat back Olsafa, "And something tells me she would be more than happy to do war with the Romans. They were the ones who seized her temple." Agnes bowed her head, unable to argue. 

"What will you need for the ritual seanmhair?" asked Liliwin, and Olsafa smiled gratefully at her. 

"I will need the help of two Maidens to conduct the rite. I shall gather the supplies myself. We will meet under the light of the full moon, in six days time. Caratacus," she said, motioning to Liliwin's father, the light of the dying fire illuminating his irises, "Do you still have the Holy Sgian?" 

"Of course," he said, quietly. 

And when Liliwin looked around the hut, at the village Elders, who weren't really elders at all, but skilled warriors, anger stirred in her gut. Because none of them thought her seanmhair's plan had any merit. Because they all thought she was as intelligent as a stone. 

The anger stayed with her as Olsafa dismissed the Elders, and Liliwin and her father were left in the hut. 

"Mother," said Caratacus, a pleading look in his eye, "please don't do this." 

Olsafa cackled, "Do what? Save your hides? Liliwin made a valid point, my son. We don't have the numbers to beat the Romans in combat." 

"But we know these lands, better than any Roman dog-" 

"Precisely. And the Romans know that. So do you not think they will make up for it with numbers? And weapons? And careful strategy? Caratacus, we don't stand a chance without Freyja." 

Liliwin bit her lip, and dared to meet her father's gaze. Fear and pain and regret lingered there. The eyes of a man who had watched many die. 

"Father," Liliwin whispered, in soothing, gentle tones, "Please, just-"

"We're all doomed," he muttered. The horror in his voice stopped Liliwin cold. And without another word, he walked out of the hut, and a dreadful silence fell upon Liliwin and her grandmother as his crunching footsteps faded into the hustle and bustle of the village.