The little ones will be glad to know their mother is safe, thought Eilan, remembering how unnaturally silent they had been. But why? Was it possible that Macellius desired peace between Rome and the Britons as much as she?
“If this is true I am glad to hear it,” she said, “but what do you want of me?”
“I should think it would be obvious, lady. These girls must not become a rallying point for some future uprising. Brigitta herself is not important, but in times of tension, any pretext will serve.”
She said, “I think you may rest easy on that point; if they were among the maidens of the Forest House no political use would be made of them.”
“Not even when they are grown?” he asked. “How do we know that they will not be given to men who will try to rule the Demetae by right of marriage to the Queen?”
He was right to wonder she thought. It was exactly the sort of thing that Cynric would try. “How would you avoid it?”
“The best way is to have them fostered in loyal Roman homes; and when they are grown, find them good solid husbands with Roman sympathies.”
“And that is all that would happen to them in Roman hands?”
“That is all,” Macellius replied. “My lady, you cannot believe that we make war on babes and little children?”
She was silent. That is exactly what I have been brought up to believe.
“Is it your will that we shall always be paying for atrocities committed by others? On the sacred island, for instance?” said Macellius, as if he could hear what she was thinking.
That is what Cynric believes, but the decision is mine. And it is I whom the Goddess must tell what to do. For a few moments longer Eilan was silent, seeking the inner stillness in which she could hear.
“It is not,” she said, “but I would lose the trust of my own people if I appeared too eager to believe you. I have heard Brigitta’s daughters are both still too young for anyone to think of marriage. They have been through a great deal. Surely it would be more merciful to let them stay wherever they are a few months, or even a year, until the furor has died down. By then everyone will know how you have treated their mother. Passions will have cooled, and there will be less outcry if people learn they are in your hands.”
“And will they then be given to us?” Macellius said, frowning.
“If all is as you say, I swear by the gods of my tribe that they will.” Eilan set her hand upon the torque around her neck. “Prepare to receive them in your house in Deva at the Feast of the Maiden next year.”
His face lightened, and Eilan’s breath caught as she saw on his lined face Gawen’s flickering smile. If only she could tell him who she was, and show him his grandson, safe and strong!
“I believe you,” Macellius said. “I can only hope that the Legate will believe me.”
“Vernemeton is hostage for my honesty.” She gestured around her. “If I betray it, we are within easy grasp of his hand.”
He said, “Lady, I would kiss yours; but your guard is eyeing me most suspiciously.”
“You cannot do that,” she said, “but I accept your good will, my lord.”
“And I yours,” Macellius said, and bowed once more.
When he had gone, Eilan sat for a time in silence, wondering if she had betrayed her people or saved them. Was it for this that the gods had worked to bring her here? Was it for this she had been born?
Caillean returned from the Summer Country late the next day, looking tired but elated. When the older woman had bathed, Eilan sent Senara to ask if she would take her evening meal by Eilan’s fire.
“How that child has grown!” Caillean commented as Senara went out to fetch the meal. “It seems just yesterday she came here, and now she is the same age as you were when I first met you, and almost as beautiful!”