"See that none escape," the Druid said. "Kill them and all their slaves
and followers. Let not one live to carry the news to Camalodunum."

"I shall be at the meeting place and march at your head," the queen
said to the chiefs; "that victory will be ours I do not doubt;
but if the gods will it otherwise I swear that I shall not survive
defeat. Ye gods, hear my vow."

The council was now over, and the queen mingled with the chiefs,
saying a few words to each. Beric was presented to her by his mother,
and Boadicea was particularly gracious to him. "I have heard great
things predicted of you, Beric. The gods have marked you out for
favour, and their priests tell me that you will be one day a great
champion of the Britons. So may it be. I shall watch you on the
day of battle, and am assured that none among the Iceni will bear
themselves more worthily."

An hour later the meeting broke up, and Parta and Beric returned
to Cardun, where they at once began to make preparations for the
approaching conflict. Every man in the tribe was summoned to attend,
and the exercises went on from daybreak till dusk, while the women
cooked and waited upon the men. Councils were held nightly in the
hall, and to each of the chiefs was assigned a special duty, the
whole tribe being treated as a legion, and every chief and fighting
man having his place and duty assigned to him.

In Camalodunum, although nothing was known of the preparations
that were being made, a feeling of great uneasiness prevailed. The
treatment of Boadicea had excited grave disapproval upon the part
of the great majority of the inhabitants, although new arrivals