“Without the consent of the Romans?” Cynric said scornfully.
“It is easy for you to jeer,” Eilan began, “but you must remember that we exist by sufferance of those Romans you are so ready to dismiss. We should at least consult with the Arch-Druid before we commit ourselves to something that might look like support for a rebellion.”
“With Ardanos?” Cynric spat. “Why not with the Legate in Deva himself? Maybe we should go to the Governor of Britain and ask his leave.”
“Cynric, I have risked a great deal for you and your cause,” Eilan reminded him soberly. “But I cannot risk the Forest House by taking in political fugitives without Ardanos’s leave.” A quick word sent her attendant running down the path towards the nearby house that had been built for the Arch-Druid.
Cynric said, “Eilan, do you know the fate to which you will be abandoning these girls?”
“Do you?” she snapped. “Why are you so sure Ardanos will refuse?”
“Regarding what?” said a new voice, and they all turned, Eilan frowning, Cynric flushed with anger, and Dieda pale with some emotion Eilan could not name. “Your woman encountered me just outside,” Ardanos explained.
Eilan pointed to the children.
“There is nothing I can do for Brigitta,” Ardanos said when she was done. “She was warned about what would happen if she claimed the right to rule. But she will not be harshly treated; even the Romans would not make that mistake twice in one century. As for the girls, I do not know. They could be trouble, later on.”
“But not yet,” said Eilan decisively. “And I will not hold children responsible for their parents’ crimes. Senara and Lia can tend them. If we give them new names and treat them like any other children they should be safe enough for a time. No one will think anything of it.” She smiled bitterly. “After all, I have a reputation for sheltering motherless children!”
“I suppose so,” said Ardanos dubiously. “But Cynric had better get well away. For where he is, I have noticed, trouble follows.” He glared at the young man, and Dieda went pale. “The Romans may not care about the girls, but they will certainly be looking for you!”
“If they try to interfere with me they may find more trouble than they bargained for,” Cynric said fiercely.
Eilan sighed, thinking that rather than a raven, he should have been called a stormy petrel. But she knew better than to argue with Cynric, or with Dieda. All she could do was to try and keep the peace a little longer. Sometimes it seemed as if the whole weight of Britain lay on her shoulders—and that all her kin were conspiring to keep it there.
Senara was summoned to take the children to their new quarters, and Eilan went on to her duties, leaving Dieda and Cynric to make their farewells. Later that afternoon, she heard weeping in the shed where they dried the herbs. It was Dieda.
The other woman started up, her eyes blazing, then seemed to deflate when she saw who it was. Although their relationship was no longer close, at least Dieda felt no need to dissemble. But Eilan knew better than to try to touch her or offer comfort.
“What is it?” she said.
Dieda scrubbed at her eyes with the corner of her veil, making them even redder. “He asked me to go with him—”
“And you refused.” Eilan kept her voice deliberately neutral.
“To live the life of an outlaw, always skulking in the forest, afraid of every sound, always wondering if tomorrow I would see him marched off in chains or slain by Roman swords? I could not do it, Eilan! Here at least I have my music, and work to do that I believe in. How could I go?”
“Did you tell him so?”
Dieda nodded. “He said that if I felt that way I could not truly love him; that I was betraying our cause…He said that he needed me…”