“I’ve had time and enough to acquire it,” said Dieda. Her gaze slid to Eilan. “It seemed half a lifetime I was away.”
Eilan nodded. She felt herself to be a century older than the girl Lhiannon had chosen as her successor five years ago. But there was a petulant twist to Dieda’s mouth. Did she still resent being sent away?
“It has been long enough for half a dozen new girls to come to us,” she said evenly. “A promising group—I think that most of them will eventually take their vows.”
Dieda looked at her. “And what had you in mind for me?”
“Teach these girls as much as you can of the skills you have learned!” Eilan leaned forward. “I don’t mean only hymns to make our rituals more beautiful, but the ancient learning, the lore of the gods and heroes as well.”
“The priests will not like it.”
“They will have nothing to say about it,” said Eilan. Dieda’s eyes widened. “These days the chieftains buy Latin tutors for their sons and teach them to recite Virgil and appreciate Italian wines. They are doing their best to turn our men into Romans, but they do not care what women do. The last sanctuary for the old wisdom of our people may be here at Vernemeton, and I would not have it lost!”
“Things have changed indeed since I went away.” For the first time, Dieda smiled. Then her eyes fixed on something beyond Eilan, and her expression changed.
Gawen was running towards them with his nurse trailing behind him. Eilan’s hands twisted in the folds of her veil as she fought the compulsion to reach out and take him into her arms.
“Moon Lady! Moon Lady!” he cried, then stopped and peered up into Dieda’s face. “You’re not the Moon Lady!” he said disapprovingly.
“Not any more,” Dieda said with a strange smile.
“This lady is our kinswoman Dieda,” Eilan said through stiff lips. “She sings as beautifully as any bird.”
For a few moments the boy looked from one to the other, frowning. His eyes were the same changeable hazel as Eilan’s, but his hair was dark and curling like his father’s, and he would have the same broad brow when he was a man.
“My Lady, I’m sorry,” Lia said breathlessly, catching up with him and reaching for his hand. “He got away from me!”
Gawen’s lower lip began to quiver and Eilan, recognizing the signs, gestured to the nurse to let him be. I suppose we have spoiled him, she thought, but he is so little, and I will lose him so soon!
“Did you want to see me, my heartling?” she asked softly. “I cannot play now, but if you come to me at sunset we will go down and feed the salmon in the Sacred Pool. Will that make you happy?”
Solemnly Gawen nodded. She reached out to touch his cheek, and her breath caught as he grinned and the dimple suddenly appeared. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he darted back to his nurse and let her lead him away. The day seemed to darken when he had gone.
“That is the child?” Dieda said in the silence after they had disappeared. As Eilan nodded, fury flared in her blue eyes. “You are mad to have him here! If he is discovered we are all lost! Have I spent four years in exile so that you could enjoy the pleasures of motherhood as well as the honor of being High Priestess?”
“He does not know I am his mother,” Eilan whispered brokenly.
“But you can see him! They did not kill him, or you! You owe that to me, O holy Moon Lady of Vernemeton!” Dieda began to walk up and down, vibrating like one of her own harp strings.
“Have some pity, Dieda,” Caillean said sternly. “The boy will be fostered out in a year or two, and no one knows.”
“Whose child do they think he is then?” Dieda spat over her shoulder. “Poor Mairi’s, or perhaps mine?” In their faces she could read the answer. “So. Now that I have finished your exile, I will also have to bear your shame. Well, when they see me with the boy perhaps that rumor will die. For I warn you, I do not like children at all!”