Eilan’s voice shook. “Did you come only to gloat over my shame, Dieda?”
“Strangely enough, I did not.” Dieda put back her veil. “Eilan, in spite of all that has been between us, I wish you well. You are not the only one who is alone. I have had no word of Cynric since he went north, and he has sent no word to me. He cares for nothing but the fate of the Ravens. Perhaps when this deception is over I should go north instead of to Eriu and become one of the warrior women who serve the goddess of battles.”
“Nonsense,” said Caillean tartly. “You would make a very poor warrior, but you are a gifted bard.”
Dieda shrugged helplessly. “Perhaps, but I must find some way to atone for serving Ardanos’s treachery.”
“Do you truly call it so?” asked Eilan; “I do not. I have had time to think, living here, and it seems to me that the Lady has allowed this to happen to Her Priestess so that I may understand the need to protect all the children of this land. It is peace, not war, that I will work for when I return.”
Dieda looked down at Eilan. She said slowly, “I never had any wish for a child by Cynric or any other man. And yet I think that if I were bearing a child to Cynric, I might feel as you do.” Her eyes were glistening with tears and she dashed them angrily away. “I must return before busy tongues have time to spin too many tales. I came only to wish you good fortune; but it seems that even here, Caillean has forestalled me.”
She turned, pulling her veil over her face once more, and before either of them could find words to reply, was gone.
Every day, it seemed, the light lasted a little longer. The branches blushed with returning sap and the swans began courting in the marshes. Though winter storms might still come to lash the land, there was a sense that spring was coming. The men who worked the land took down their plowshares from the rafters, and the fishermen began to caulk their vessels, and the shepherds stayed out all night on the cold hillsides with the lambing ewes.
Gaius rode out, listening to the sounds of new life all around him, and counted the days. It had been Beltane when he and Eilan lay together, and since then nine moons had passed. She would be giving birth soon now. Women died in childbirth sometimes. He watched returning waterfowl unraveling across the sky and knew that whether he married Julia or not, he had to see Eilan once more.
The higher he rose among the Romans, the more he could do for Eilan and their child. If it were a son, perhaps Eilan would let him raise him. She certainly could not keep him in the Forest House. It did not seem so unlikely; his mother’s people had been willing enough to give him up completely into his father’s hands.
As he rode back to the fortress his thoughts went round and round. It would be hard to tell her that they could not be married, at least not yet. If Julia did not give him a son, well, he sometimes thought divorced couples were more common than married ones in the Roman world. When his position was assured perhaps they could marry; at least he could give his child a good start in the world. Would she believe that? Would she forgive him? He bit his lip, wondering what he would say to her.
But mostly his heart beat hard simply at the thought of seeing Eilan again, even at a distance; just to know that all was well with her.
Of course, there was still the problem of how he was going to get in to see her. At length he realized that he would have to trust to the gods to help him.
The Legate who commanded the Second Adiutrix Legion had retired the preceding winter and it was just at this moment that his replacement arrived Gaius knew that his father would have more than enough to do helping the new Commander settle in. When he announced he was going off for a few days’ hunting, Macellius hardly had time to say farewell.
It was at the festival of the goddess the Britons called Brigantia that celebrated the end of the winter that Gaius rode once more past the Hill of the Maidens, just at that time when the young men dressed in costumes of straw and carried an image of the Lady from house to house to give Her blessing in exchange for cakes and ale. But here, he had heard, the priestess who was the Voice of the Goddess came out to proclaim the coming of spring to the people. In the wood outside the village Gaius changed into the British clothing he had brought along. Then he joined the others who were gathering to await the priestesses. From conversations overheard around him, he learned that this year the crowd was bigger than usual.