Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley,Diana L. Paxson
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Romance, #Religion, #Fantasy, #Adult, #Historical
"I knew some of them, yes," said Gaius, thinking of Cynric. Considering the conditions of Cynric's birth, he did not wonder that he had joined a secret society dedicated to revenge. In similar circumstances, he thought, he might have felt much the same.
"Somehow or other I must find my sister's child. Hadron's foster brother is one of the auxiliaries, as I said, and he has no wife to whom he could consign a female child, which leaves me the girl's nearest relative. Can you think of me as the guardian of a little girl?
I have not seen the child since she was in swaddling clothes; I suppose she must be eight or thereabouts."
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"First you have to find her . . ." said Gaius slowly. Cynric might know where Hadron had gone with his child. And in the process Cynric, who knew what it was to be separated from his beloved, might be able to help him see Eilan.
"Can you really help me?" Valerius slowed. They were almost at the Prefect's offices now, and the secretary was well aware of Macellius's disapproval of any contact between his son and his mother's people.
"Perhaps . . ." Gaius said cautiously. "I might know someone who could inquire for you."
He had heard that Cynric had been summoned south to ride with the legionaries who had been despatched to punish the raiders who had burned the house of Bendeigid. It had amazed him at the time, but revenge made strange bedfellows. The word was that Cynric was now working with the auxiliaries as a guide and interpreter, Gaius wondered if he had changed his mind or if he still belonged to the Ravens.
If he tried to contact Cynric through army channels, his father would hear, but he was bound to see the young Briton sooner or later, hanging around the taverns that served the fortress.
"May Bona Dea bless you!" Valerius reached out to clasp Gaius's hand. Then the door opened, and both men stiffened to military attention.
Only a few days later Gaius, making his way through Deva's crowded marketplace, saw Cynric standing head and shoulders above the crowd. His curls had darkened somewhat, and his face now bore the beginnings of a beard. Gaius shouted, saw Cynric frown, decide this young officer was no one he knew, and prepare to move on.
Gaius swore and thrust through the crowd to face him. "Wait, man - don't you know me?" He stopped, tensing as the blue gaze descended and darkened. Surely the lad wouldn't hold his own deception against him now, when he too was serving Rome! "I think I still owe you a drink for hauling me out of that boar pit," he said companionably. "There's a wine shop here; let's try its wares."
Gaius drew a breath of relief as Cynric's frown changed to a rueful grin. "I remember you now," he said, adding, "but I don't suppose your name is Gawen. What do I call you, Tribune?"
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"As a matter of fact," Gaius said, "my mother named me Gawen and called me so until the day she died.
I told you the truth as far as I dared. But in the Roman town I bear my father's name: Gaius Macellius Severus. My mother was a woman of the Silures; I bear the cognomen Siluricus after her."
"If I had known this at the time I would have killed you," admitted Cynric. "But a lot has happened since then. I'll drink with you, Roman, or whatever you may be."
In the dusty darkness of the wine shop, Gaius said, "I was sorry when I heard of the burning of your house; I could hardly have been more distressed if my own kin had been killed by those Hibernian bastards. I am glad that your father was not hurt, and more sorry than I can say that your mother died."
"She was my foster mother," Cynric remarked, "but for her sake I thank you. We have a saying in the North that blood binds for three generations, but fosterage for seven. And indeed my foster father's wife was as good to me as if I had been born to her."
"She was a gracious lady indeed," Gaius agreed. "And for your sake I grieve for her." If he had married Eilan he would have welcomed this man as a brother. And yet, by accident of birth, he and Cynric had been on opposite sides of this struggle until now. At least others than Romans commit outrages, he thought. "I saw the ashes of your home, but my father sent me north immediately thereafter. Perhaps I struck a blow or two on her behalf against those Caledonians. I was glad to hear that the Hibernian raiders were punished."
"At least I, too, got to strike a blow for them. That was the first time in my life I was not ashamed of the Roman blood in my veins." Cynric went on. "I think that Beltane when you guested with us was the last time we were all happy together. All who survived are scattered now."
"I was at the Hill of the Maidens this last Beltane," Gaius said carefully. "I saw Dieda, and Eilan your foster sister, there. I was glad to know she had survived."
"Aye," Cynric said shortly. "She is in the Forest House, a priestess of the Great Goddess. As for Dieda, she is Eilan's kin, but none to me. Nor likely to be, if she stays there!"
"I have a friend in the Legions -" Gaius said then.
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Cynric laughed. "Well, I am not surprised at that-"
Gaius shook his head. "His sister married a Briton, and was cast off by her kin. They had a daughter, but the sister's dead now, and they say her husband is on the run. My friend wants to find the little girl."
"On the run . . ." Cynric said thoughtfully. "Why are you asking me?"
"Because they say he was one of those who fly at midnight —"
"Many birds fly at midnight." Cynric gazed into his wine. "What was the man's name?"
"Hadron," said Gaius. "His wife was called Valeria."
"I know little of birds," said Cynric, "but I can ask around."
"Could they have taken the child to the Forest House? Would your kinswomen know?"
"I could ask," answered Cynric.
I
would rather ask her myself,
thought Gaius, but he did not know how to say so. And how did he know that Eilan even wanted to see him again? If she was happy in the Forest House, would he be only breaking her peace to try and see her there? He had done his duty to Valerius. Should he make some excuse and disappear again?
He realized that he had been silent too long when Cynric refilled his cup from the jug of wine and shoved it back at him.
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"There's more to this than a lost child," said the Briton. "What did you really want to say?"
"I must see Eilan again," Gaius burst out suddenly. "I swear I mean her no harm. I only want to know she is happy there."
For a moment Cynric stared at him, then threw back his head with a roar of laughter that turned heads all over the room. "You're in love!" he laughed again. "I should have recognized the symptoms. Isn't my own girl locked away behind those very walls?"
"But you're a kinsman," said Gaius seriously. "They'll let you talk to her. Can you arrange something for me?"
"Why not?" Cynric grinned. "I've never seen any reason to keep the priestesses all penned up. That's like something you Romans would do. Dieda won't see or speak to me since she went in there, but my foster sister is not a prisoner. I will see what I can arrange for you." He drained his wine cup. "Be at the edge of the path leading to the Forest House three days from now, an hour after noon."
As Eilan waited in the woods near the Sacred Grove in the unusual brightness of the early summer sunlight she was surprised to find that she was trembling. At first, when Cynric had spoken to her of a meeting with Gaius, it had seemed like the answer to an unusually fervent prayer. But she soon realized that the most dangerous thing in the world is an answered prayer. Her chances of keeping the meeting a secret were slim indeed. And no one would believe her if they were discovered.
In the end she had gone to Caillean for advice.
"There is nothing that you can do, since you have bidden him here, but to meet him as has been arranged," Caillean had replied. "But I am going to be within earshot every moment; so that if I am later asked I can swear that the two of you have exchanged no word that could not be spoken in the presence of the parents of either of you. Do you accept that?"
Eilan had bowed her head, then turned to go. In truth, she was even a little relieved. If she must speak to him in the presence of the priestess; there would then be no question of his asking of her anything . .
.dangerous.
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"Wait," Caillean had said. "Why did you bring this to me? Surely you could not imagine that I would approve!"
"I am doing nothing that betrays my vows." Eilan faced the other woman directly. "But I know how idle tongues can embroider a tale. I believe that you would advise me as you thought right, whatever you might feel!" And then she had turned once more, and gone. But she remembered with some satisfaction the flush of color that had stained the other woman's cheeks.
And so she waited, knowing that with the implacable watcher she had nothing to fear. If she had earlier been asked whether she was afraid of Gaius she would have unhesitatingly answered no; but as the shadows shortened, she became frightened, then terrified.
"Oh, Caillean." She turned to the other woman, who sat upon a stone at the edge of the clearing, working on a piece of embroidery. "What am I going to say to him?"
"Why should you ask me? I am hardly the person to advise a maiden on her dealings with a man,"
Caillean replied with a sardonic smile.
Eilan sighed. As time passed she realized that it would take a while for him to come all the way from Deva. But as she waited, she found her hand stealing into Caillean's.
Was she meddling in an affair which was, after all, none of her concern? No, she told herself firmly. It was clearly her duty to find out all she could about the child's surviving relatives. Thus fortified, she waited; and her heart began to pound when at last she saw his shadow upon the path.
It was the first time she had seen Gaius in the uniform and helmet of the Roman Legion; she was struck by how well it became him. He seemed taller under the crimson crested helmet, and the color set off his dark eyes. He came into the clearing and stopped short. If he was surprised to see two women instead of one, it showed only in the momentary flicker of his eyes. Saluting them, he lifted the helmet from his head and tucked it under one arm.
Eilan found herself staring. She had never before had more than a momentary look at a Roman officer in full uniform; and it emphasized the differences between them.
And yet,
she thought,
by their laws we are
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all Romans.
It was like a revelation to her.
He looked at her and smiled, and suddenly all the things she had meant to say to him vanished from her mind.
Gaius shifted his gaze from Eilan to the older priestess, wondering what on earth he should say. He had never once envisioned that their meeting would be attended by a third party. He had not chanced angering his father and risking the wrath of hers, to exchange a few guarded remarks in the presence of a veritable dragon.
But as he met Caillean's amused glance his anger cooled. If Eilan was a Vestal Virgin or the nearest thing to one to be found within the British Isles, he could hardly blame her for wanting a witness who could attest to her unbroken vows. He wondered how he could make it clear, she was as sacrosanct to him as a Virgin in the temple of Vesta. He remembered how overwhelmed he had been by her trust when she sat beside him at the Beltane fire, how touched by her innocence.
Caillean, of course, was another matter; he could tell at once that the older woman would not have trusted him - or both of them - out of her sight, and for Eilan's sake he was indignant. But he guessed that the priestess had been brought up on tales of Roman outrages. To the women of the Forest House the very fact that he was a Roman and a man was enough.
And the truth was that if Caillean had not been there, he might have kissed Eilan; she looked very enticing in the pale linen dress that set off the gold of her hair. He thought the garb must be some kind of standard dress among the priestesses, for Caillean was wearing the same kind of draperies, though hers were dark blue and unbecoming. Both had little curved daggers hanging from their girdles.
After a moment Eilan began to tell him about the girl in the house of the priestesses, not very coherently, but he knew at once that this must be the child of Valerius's sister. "But this is amazing," he exclaimed. "I think this must be the same girl I came here to speak about to you, the niece of my father's secretary.
How old is she?"
"The Goddess must be guiding us indeed," said Eilan. "I do not think she has passed her tenth year."
"Oh, well, she is not old enough to be marriageable," he said, for Roman law did not permit the marriage of a girl under twelve. He added lightly, "That's good; otherwise Valerius would probably feel in honor
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bound to make some arrangement. Now he'll just have to marry someone else to have a home for her."
"That is not necessary," said Eilan. "The girl is well and happy where she is, and you may tell him so."
Gaius frowned; he knew that for Valerius, who came of a good old family, it would not be considered suitable that a kinswoman should live away from the family's protection. But Valerius had no other family to take care of the girl now, and perhaps Eilan's insistence that she would personally watch over the child's health and safety would be enough for him.
After all, in Rome, it was the greatest possible honor for a little girl to be taken into the temple of Vesta.
For as long as she retained her ritual position she was treated like a queen, or an empress at least.
Somehow he would make Valerius understand.
He realized that he was still making ineffectual remarks about the little girl, whom he had not even seen, when he saw Caillean glaring at him. They had already said everything they could legitimately say to one another, and were beginning to repeat themselves. It was time to say goodbye.
He paused, eyeing Eilan wistfully. He supposed he would never have another opportunity to speak with her in even this much privacy. He would have liked to bid her a proper goodbye, but he could certainly not do that under Caillean's eyes. And he should probably not expose himself to that kind of temptation anyhow. But Eilan was still looking at him, a question in her eyes.