Read Online The Lion and the Lark by Doreen Owens Malek - Free Book Online Page A

marrying couple, but since there were no fruits or flowers available they settled for pine garlands and wreaths made of fallen yew leaves and discarded nuts.  This gave the hut a somber, wintry air, which was matched by the grim faced Iceni leaders as they stood in a semi-circle, waiting for the Romans to arrive.
         Bronwen was dressed in her finest garments as befit the ban-chomarba , female heir of the tribe, on her wedding day.  She wore a full length linen tunic, belted at the waist with a golden chain, and around her neck a golden choker, or torc, which met at the base of her throat in the form of two hands clasping.  Her striped woolen cloak of vibrant colors was draped over one shoulder and fastened with a golden brooch.  Her rich red hair was braided into a circlet around her crown and then looped through the wreath of mistletoe on her head to fall down her back.  Her father and the vergobrets ,  or lawgivers, of the tribe, stood before the fire with the Druid who would perform the ceremony.  Also present were a man and a woman in costume.  The man was dressed in green and holding a golden staff to depict the chief god Lug (whom the Germanic Celts, or Gauls, called Wotan or Odin), a warrior magician, and the woman was wearing a horse’s head carved from an oak tree and painted to symbolize Epona, the goddess of fertility. 
         The rest of the Iceni were massed outside, waiting in the paths between the drifted snow.
         When the Romans arrived the Celts parted ranks silently to let the newcomers pass.  Claudius, accompanied by Scipio, Ardus and Cato, was dressed in his full uniform, his weapons belted at his waist.  His gold embroidered garnet tunic and gold faced leather breastplate and skirtguard bespoke his rank.  Hobnailed boots were laced up his calves and the scarlet cloak fastened at the back of his shoulders swept down almost to his heels.  His golden helmet with chinguard and crest of red feathers obscured his dark hair, and as he entered the hut behind Scipio he glanced toward the hearth and saw the girl.
         He missed a step and Ardus almost crashed into him.
         “What is it?” Ardus hissed in his ear.  “Are you all right?”
         Scipio turned and looked at Claudius.
         “Fine,” Claudius muttered, taking a deep breath and advancing again. He removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm, not trusting himself to risk another look at her until he was standing motionless at her side.
         She was staring straight ahead, affording him a view of her delicate profile.  She seemed serene except for the pulse he could see beating hectically at her temple, which gave her away.
         Was she just nervous, or had she had recognized him too?
         The white robed Druid stepped forward and began to intone the formula for one of the eight forms of Celtic marriage, that arranged by contract for mutual advantage.  As the priest spoke the rhythmic syllables, meaningless to him, Claudius tried to absorb this new turn of events.
         He had been dreading this moment, when his duty would force him to wed some unknown barbarian woman in defiance of his own custom or desire. He had never imagined that the girl he had encountered that late summer night near Scipio’s house, the girl he had been seeking by day and dreaming of by night, would be his bride.
         The Druid stopped talking and the woman wearing the cow’s head brought forth a loaf of brown bread and a bag of salt.  The Druid accepted these offerings, and the long sword which the man-god proferred ceremoniously.
         The Romans eyed it warily, but remained in place.
         The Druid said in his own language, “We teach that the gods must be honored, no injustice done and seemly behavior always maintained.”
         All the Celts present bowed their heads.
         “Truth in the heart, strength in the arm, honesty in speech are the principles of our people,” he