The Forest House (45 page)

Gaius felt like protesting that his Latin was no worse than that of Macellius; but it was true that Macellius had never had to speak to the senators of Rome. And it would do him no harm to learn the language of educated men everywhere, which would always be Greek. But the lessons did not go on for long. By the end of the summer Julia was pregnant and so queasy much of the time that the tutor was dismissed.

But by this time Gaius was conversing with the Greek house slaves whenever he had the opportunity, including Charis, Julia's chambermaid, who had herself been born on Apollo's own island of Mytilene.

One of the freedmen who worked for him had originally come to Britain as a secretary to a former Governor, and was glad enough to earn a few extra sesterces by correcting Gaius's accent and making him copy out the speeches of Cicero to improve his Latin style.

He was resolved that when Julia's child was born and she felt well enough to resume her lessons — if she ever did — he would have far surpassed her.

And so the winter passed. By their first anniversary, Julia's sickness had subsided. She did not protest when her father proposed that Gaius join a hunting party for boar in the woods north of Londinium, escorting a wealthy senator with interests in the wine trade who claimed to have undertaken the hazardous journey all the way there for the sake of the hunting. Licinius did not think a great deal of the man's skill, but admitted his political power, and flattered the man by assigning his own son-in-law to escort duty.

Julia, far from resenting his absence, was a little relieved to have him out of the house. Like most men, Gaius appeared to feel that any admission of difficulty was a plea for help. Since he could not help her, and indeed, was the cause of her condition, he was inclined to react with annoyance if she mentioned ill health or anxiety. Her father was not much better, and she had too much pride to unburden her heart to the slaves.

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And so, on the morning Gaius left to go hunting, Julia sought the temple of Juno. Her maid Charis complained about walking all the way, but ungainly as she had become, Julia was sure the jolt of a wagon or the sway of a litter would have made her queasy again.

Nor did she mind when the eunuch who watched the door told her she must wait until the priestess should have time for her, for the interior of the temple was dim and cool after the brightness and dust of the street outside, and she was quite content to sit there for a time, gazing up at the painted statue.

Domina Dea . . .she prayed,
I thought it would be so easy. But the slaves gossip about women who
have died in childbirth when they think I cannot hear. I'm not afraid of that, Goddess, but what if
my baby should die? What if I am like my mother, who bore only one child who lived beyond a
year? My father has political power and Gaius can fight battles. But the only thing that I can do is
give them a legitimate heir.
She pulled her veil across her face so that no one could see that she was weeping.
Help me to deliver a healthy son . . .please, Goddess, please!

She started as the eunuch touched her shoulder, then wiped her eyes and followed him to the inner chamber, ignoring the nagging pain in her lower back.

Juno's high priestess was a woman of middle years, her face painted to look younger, whose hard eyes silently priced Julia's jewels and gown. But she greeted Julia with an effusive warmth that sparked lively caution in the girl.

"You are worried about the birthing." The woman patted her arm. "And it is your first, so it is only natural that you should be afraid . .."

Julia pulled back a little, eyeing her warily. Didn't the woman understand that it was not for herself that she feared?

"I want a son," she began, and coughed at the wave of scent as the priestess bent closer.

"Of course you do. And if you make an offering, the Goddess will help you."

"What kind of animal should I buy for the sacrifice?"

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"Well, dear —" The woman looked down at her rings. "We really have enough of that sort of thing. But they are building a lavish temple for Isis down near the wharfs, and it would be a pity if Juno should be left looking like a poor relation. Surely she will give you what you want if you offer a generous gift to her shrine."

Julia stared at her, understanding all too well, and rose heavily to her feet. "Indeed," she said dryly. "I must go now, but I thank you for your good counsel."

She turned on her heel, wishing she had the height to make an impressive exit, and stalked from the room, leaving the priestess gaping behind her. As she crossed the threshold, the ache in her back became a stabbing pain that for a moment took her breath away.

"My lady —" Charis reached out to help her.

"Go summon a chair for me," Julia told her, supporting herself against a pillar. "I believe I will ride home after all."

Gaius did not return to Londinium until late in the evening, having seen to it that the distinguished guest got the trophy he wanted, and taking leave of him with some relief. When he came in, he discovered all in chaos; for during his absence, Julia had gone into premature labor and borne him a daughter. He received the news from Licinius, who said all had been over for an hour or two, and Julia was asleep.

It was time to toast the birth of his first child, said Licinius, holding out a dusty clay flagon with a Greek seal. It was all too clear, Gaius thought, that his father-in-law had already been celebrating.

"I do not know how to thank you for this great gift," he said somewhat drunkenly. "I have always wanted to be a grandfather; and if the child is only a daughter, well, I do not mind that; Julia has been as good a child to me as forty sons, and she brought you into our family. No doubt that your next child will be a boy."

"I certainly hope you are right," Gaius said. It would not be his fault if she did not, since he had begotten one son already.

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"I put this wine away when Julia was born, to be drunk when my first grandchild was born," Licinius said, removing the seal. "Drink with me, my son; and don't spoil it by putting too much water with it."

Gaius had had no supper and would much rather have had a cup of ale with a bowl of beans or a roast fowl, but with the household in such disarray he'd be lucky to get some cold bread and meat if he could corner one of the household slaves. He resigned himself to going to bed half drunk, and joined Licinius.

"To your daughter," Licinius said. "May she be as good to you as Julia has been to me."

Gaius drank and then the old man proposed a toast to his son.

Gaius blinked and sputtered, and his father-in-law elaborated, "Surely you will have a son next year."

"Oh, yes, of course."

But as Gaius lifted his goblet it was of Eilan and the son he already had that he was thinking. By now the boy would be a year old. Was he walking? Had the fuzz of dark hair turned to gold?

And then of course they had to drink to Julia; if the serving woman had not come in at around that point to say he might see her, Gaius would have been very drunk indeed. Grateful for the interruption, he followed the woman to the bedchamber.

Julia struck her husband as very small, small and pale. Tucked in her arms was the tiny swaddled form of the child.

Julia looked up at him and began to cry. "I'm so sorry. I did so want to give you a son - I was so sure . .

."

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Made generous by the thought of Eilan's son, far to the west, he stooped and kissed her. "Don't cry," he said. "We will have a boy next time, if the gods wish it."

"Then you accept her?"

The slave woman picked up the child and held it out and they all looked at him expectantly. After a moment Gaius realized what he was supposed to do and took the baby, rather awkwardly. He looked down into the crumpled features, waiting for the tide of tenderness that had overwhelmed him when he held his son. But his only emotion was amazement, for it seemed to him impossible that something so tiny could be real. He sighed.

"In the name of my ancestors I claim this child as my daughter," Gaius said loudly. "Macellia Severina shall be her name."

Just after Beltane, Bendeigid sought audience with the Lady of Vernemeton. By this time Eilan had settled into her role as High Priestess, but it still seemed strange that her own father, a powerful Druid, should seek permission to visit her. Yet she sent an equally formal reply that she would gladly receive him, and when he appeared in her outer chamber that afternoon, she made ready to give him a cordial welcome.

Truth to tell, Eilan did not feel all that cordial. She could not help but remember that it was her father's refusal even to consider her marriage to Gaius that had placed her in a position in which, while she had comfort and honor, had also made her a stranger to her own son. She made certain that Gawen was out of sight and hearing for the afternoon. Bendeigid at least would know that Mairi had not borne another child, and Gawen was getting to look more like his father.

She set out a pitcher of fresh water, newly drawn by Senara from the Sacred Well, and indicated to Huw that he could let her visitor come in. It gave her a certain pleasure to have her bodyguard looming over them. His bulk made even her father, who was a big man, seem small. She had thought that to be the recipient of such dog-like devotion would make her uncomfortable, for Huw had gratefully transferred his loyalty to her as soon as she emerged from her ritual seclusion and began to go about again, but he never intruded. He was simply there, and she gradually came to appreciate his usefulness in getting rid of visitors, or, as now, to overawe them.

"How may I serve you, my father?" she said coolly, remaining seated. Her tone was the same as she would have used to any highly placed Druid. Indeed, his time in the North had changed him. He was still a powerful man, but the comfortable solidity she remembered had been worn away until he was all sinew
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and bone.

Bendeigid stopped short, eyeing her oddly. What was he seeing, she wondered? Not the daughter he remembered, for certain. The face she saw when she looked into the Sacred Pool had lost its girlish roundness, and suffering and responsibility had given a certain air of watchfulness to her shadowed eyes.

But perhaps those subtle signs of maturity would be less striking than her golden ornaments and the crescent between her brows.

Although she had pushed the sheer veil of fine, dark blue linen back from her face, its folds were draped about her head and shoulders. She had continued to go veiled in the fashion Dieda had adopted to aid in the deception; and by the time it might have been safe to go without it, she had grown used to its protection. It seemed to lend an air of authority; certainly, it added to her mystery.

"I only wanted to pay you my respects, daughter - or should I say Lady," replied the Druid. "It has been long since we met. I wanted to be sure that you were well . . ."

It has taken you long enough,she thought grimly. But she could see that the past few years had not been easy for him either. It was not entirely Huw's bulk that made him seem smaller; his hair had gone completely gray and there were new lines around his mouth and in his brow. He had always been stern, but now purpose burned in his eyes like a dark flame.

Bendeigid accepted the silver-bound wooden cup she handed him and sat down on a bench. Eilan took her seat in the great carven chair.

"Surely that is not the only reason you have come here, my father," she said calmly.

"Lhiannon was old." He looked into his cup and then back up at her. "I can well understand that she did not wish her country torn by war - and that may be why the Goddess has counseled peace for the past few years. But now there is a new time and a new priestess. Did you not know about the battle the Romans call Mons Graupius? Have you heard how the Votadini lands are become a desert in which a few survivors scratch for a living where once was a thriving tribe?"

Eilan lowered her gaze away from his. Indeed she had heard of the battle, from one who had fought in it, and Gaius had told her how that winter the starving survivors had come to the gates of the fortress to be fed. It was true that the Romans were the invaders, but she knew it was the defeated tribesmen who in
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despair had fired their own villages and slaughtered their animals to keep them out of Roman hands.

"Voice of the Goddess, tell me - the tears of captive women fall down like rain and the blood of our slain warriors shrieks from the ground, why does She not hear them? Why has the Goddess not answered our prayers, and why does the Oracle still counsel us to keep this miserable peace?"

He surged to his feet, reaching out to her, and Huw took a heavy step into the room. Eilan drew a long breath to conceal her astonishment and gestured the man away. She had always assumed that her father was deep in the Arch-Druid's counsels. Was it possible that he did not know how Ardanos had been manipulating the Oracle all these years?

"Surely my father knows I speak only such Oracles as are given to me," she said soothingly.
If he
knows, then I have told him the truth
—
and if he does not, then I have told him nothing he does
not know.

Indeed, what she had said was a greater truth than even Ardanos knew, for although Ardanos translated her answers to questions as he saw fit, when the Goddess filled her and she spoke directly to the people, it was the Goddess who agreed or disagreed with the policies of the Arch-Druid as She chose. So far, at least, Her counsels had been sufficiently peaceable that he had not questioned them.

Bendeigid rose and began nervously to wander about the room. He said, "Then I must entreat you to pray to the Goddess to avenge us. The spirits of the women of Mona still cry out for vengeance."

She frowned. "Has Cynric sent you to say this to me?" She knew that Gaius had taken him prisoner, and saved his life and freedom by making him one of the hostages, but did not know what had happened to him after that.