Druids (33 page)

“We shall win them back with strong new songs!” I boasted to Tarvos.’ ‘We may even be able to rebuild the Order to its former size, as it was when Menua was young.”

“How many druids does a tribe need?”

“As many as it takes,” I told him mischievously.

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The Bull shrugged. “Druid humor,” he said. “What do you think caused the decline in the numbers in the first place?”

“Perhaps the cause lies with the wheel of the seasons that turns and turns and changes ail things, so that ancient ages become new and ancient wisdoms are forgotten only to be rediscovered, the necessary cycle of death and birth.”

Tarvos scratched his bushy head.’ ‘I don’t understand. But then, I’m a simple man.”

When I repeated my thoughts to her, however, Briga understood.

Teaching was only a part of my function, of course. In the autumn I must oversee the slaughtering, first propitiating the spirits of the animals. Then there was the storing of grain and the harvesting of the precious mistletoe, part of an endless round that must correspond to natural cycles and be performed according to proven traditions. We took from the earth and we gave back, we worked with sun and rain and the spirit of life. At the hub of all this activity was the chief druid, maintaining the harmony.

I learned to live on very little sleep.

Sometimes I went to the grove alone. There, like an overheated man sinking into a pool of cool water, I immersed myself in the tranquility of the trees until I was refreshed.

I needed all my strength when Sulis returned from Cenabum to tell me there was no hope for Nantorus.

“He can never be elected king again, Ainvar. We did everything that could be done for him, but he is old beyond his seasons. The spear in his back must have damaged his lung; his breathing is ruined. It’s surprising he’s lived this long, really.

“Now that I’m back, I suppose you want me to resume teaching Briga?”

“Not yet,” I replied. “Not yet.”

Another task was added to my endless list: I must find a new candidate for king, and do it secretly, without alerting Tasgetius.

While my head was turning over this new problem, word came from the south. Vercingetorix of the Arvemi uigently requested my advice and counsel. Could I come to Gergovia?

I went back to Sulis and told her she would resume Briga’s instruction after all, and possibly take on some other hopeful healers as well. Grannus, Keryth, and our other druids would divide the rest of the neophytes among them in my absence. “But don’t send Briga to Aberth,” I cautioned Suits most particularly. “She isn’t ready for him.”

When I returned to my lodge to begin preparing for the journey

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southward, I found Tarvos waiting forme. “I’m glad you’re here,” I told him briskly as I started rummaging in the chest for traveling gear. “I’ll want you to be prepared. We’re going to Vercingetorix as soon as my responsibilities allow.”

He said something behind my back, which I thought I must have misunderstood. ‘ *You what?” I asked him over my shoulder.

“I said I can’t wait any longer, Ainvar. So l\a asking you now. Set a price on her and I ‘11 pay it.”

•• T ET ME UNDERSTAND this, Tarvos. You want to buy I LakutuV I turned to face him, knowing I sounded as .L^astonished as I must have looked.

L

His lips tightened until his drooping moustache quivered. “I want her to live in my lodge. But she can’t just come to me, she isn’t a free person. So I’ll buy her.”

I sat down abruptly on the carved chest. “Warriors don’t keep slaves. Bondservants perhaps; never slaves.”

“Neither do druids.” The Bull faced me with his head lowered, like his namesake. I would have sworn he flared his nostrils.

My own flash of anger surprised me. * ‘You don’t have to worry about her. Surely you know I’ll always see that she’s cared for.”

“You don’t have any need of a woman in your house, Ainvar, you ‘re never here anymore, The chief druid before you never kept a woman anyway. If Lakutu was mine I could give her her freedom, and then I could even . , . even many her,” he muttered, his face reddening.

“Marry!” I echoed stupidly.

“She would be willing.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me.”

I was past astonishment. “How could she tell you?”

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“We talk.”

“But she can’t speak our language.”

“I’ve taught her some words.”

My imagination presented me with a vision of the two of diem chattering away happily to one another while I was away toiling in the service of my people.

With a pang of jealousy, I realized Tarvos had taught Lakutu what I could not.

“She’s still a sick woman,” I aigued halfheartedly.

“She’s getting much better, you just haven’t noticed. Sometimes we go for walks. I’ve taken her as far as the river, she tikes niat. Please, Ainvar. She’s nothing to you. But to me …”

I could not bear the light in his eyes. “I’ll think about it,” I promised. Then I almost ran from the lodge.

I would not be able to go to Rix before Samhain at the earliest. I must conduct the rituals ending and beginning the cycle of seasons, and I must also address Gaul’s druids at the annual convocation in the sacred grove. I wanted to remind them of the Roman threat as Menua would have done, and encourage them to think of tribal unity rather than divisiveness. Only if we stood together could we hope to resist Caesar-

“One man leads the entire army intent upon overrunning our lands,” I told them. “One man. One head. We too shall need one man, one head, rather than many leaders going in different directions. The Roman pattern is to split up tribes and then roll over the fragments. Remember the history you have learned; think on it.”

While my warning still echoed in the grove, I prepared to go to Vercingetorix.

Once more Tarvos met me at the door of my lodge. * ‘Have you decided about Lakutu?” he asked bluntly.

“Are you going to the south with me?” I countered.

“It depends.” He stood his ground, feet braced wide.

I, who scorned appeasement, tried to make him laugh. “I ‘m a druid, not a trader, Tarvos. Must we bargain?”

He just looked at me.

“Take her then,” I shouted, breaking before he did. “Take her and be done with it! You don’t have to buy her, I give her to you

as a present.”

“Will you make marks that say she’s mine, the way they do in the Province?”

The Bull was aptly named. I had never realized he was so

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stubborn. “Anything you want,” I replied. “Is there any particular language you’d like it written in?”

My attempt at sarcasm was unnoticed. “I don’t know about things like that,” he said.

So I found a piece of soft calfskin and laboriously scribed on it, with fabric paint, words giving one Lakutu, dancing girl, to one Tarvos, warrior. The language I used was the remnant of Greek I had learned from Menua; I would not use Latin. When I presented Tarvos with the scroll, he made no pretense of reading it, but thrust it into his tunic and grinned like a hound.

Feeling that something more was needed to complete this rather strange ritual, I said to Lakutu—more as a matter of form than an attempt at the communication I had never achieved—“I shall give you some possessions of your own to take to your new lodge. It is the custom of our people.”

Her eyes met mine shyly. “Of my people, too. But only among royalty. You make me royalty. I thank you.”

I was wordless.

Tarvos filled the silence. “I told you I’d taught her our language.”

“I thought you meant … a few words only … I never dreamed. …”

Tarvos looked at Lakutu. “I did,” he said.

Until our vines matured, I could not share a cup with them, but I poured the three of us generous quantities ofbariey beer and we celebrated so thoroughly I almost missed saluting the sunset. When Tarvos left he took her with him.

The lodge was unbelievably empty—

A gift, Menua had once told me, should be something you want for yourself, or it is not worthy to give.

When we left for the land of the Arvernians, Lakutu waved farewell to Tarvos from the door of his lodge, not mine.

As I made my way southward with my retinue. I heard that Caesar was on the move again; against Ariovistus. He had condemned some of the drafted Gauls in the Provincial army as cowards because they were reluctant to fight the German king. A slaughter was in me offing. Afterward, who would Caesar turn upon next?

At least we had the seasons for our allies. Winter was upon us;

Caesar might manage one good fight before surrendering to ice and mud and going into winter camp, and in that time Rix and I would meet and plan.

When I reached Gergovia, I was welcomed with great cere—

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mony to the lodge of the king. Bronze trumpets were blown to announce me. I rather liked it; Tarvos was unimpressed.

Tribal kings live well, but the prosperity of the Arvemian royal stronghold was exceptional by any Gaulish standard. The king’s persona! lodge was immense, large enough to house several families, and possessed two vast stone firepits, one at either end of the oval structure. There were numerous benches covered with fairs, and carved tables holding bowls and cups of bronze and silver and copper. The lodge was so large it boasted private sleeping compartments separated from the rest of the house by carved wooden screens. The least important of the king’s servitors—and the lodge swarmed with bondservants—wore rings and brooches of enameled openwork that would have ransomed a prince’s daughter.

The gleam of gold was everywhere. Around his neck Vercingetorix wore a gold tore as thick as an infant’s wrist.

But he was, in many ways, the same Rix. His grin was as irresistible, his hooded gaze as compelling. “I’m glad you’ve come, Ainvar. I wasn’t certain you would—an important man like the chief druid of the Camutes.” His laughter was gently mocking.

I matched the mood. “When the King of the World summons, who am I to resist?”

After we had feasted together and shared wine, we became more serious. Rix sent his servitors out of earshot, to the other end of the lodge, so he could ask me, “Have you heard the latest news of Caesar?”

“Rumors on the road. What news have you?”

“He’s met with Ariovistus. The German refused to go to him, so they agreed on a place midway between them. Ariovistus was blustering and hostile, according to my Boii informants.”

* ‘You are as well informed as a chief druid,” I told him.’ ‘And I thank you for passing your information on to me-”

“I wanted you to know what I know, in case I needed to call upon your head.”

“As you have done.”

‘ *Yes. It’s this matter of Ariovistus, Ainvar. He insisted that his people had won the land they hold in Gaul in fair battle, and that

it is no concern of Caesar’s. Caesar countered by demanding that no more Germans be brought across the Rhine. He said that if Ariovistus would agree, there could be friendship between him and Rome, but otherwise Caesar would punish the Suebi for their many outrages against his allies among the Aedui.”

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I massaged my tired calf muscles with my hands. “I can’t imagine Ariovistus was willing to accept any conditions laid down by Caesar.”

“Of course not, he was furious. He declared there could only be war between them, and the skirmishing has already begun. Ariovistus has drawn together an army from several allied Germanic tribes with which he means to occupy Vesontio, the principal town of me Sequani. The last I heard, Caesar was on his way to head them off. I’m waiting for more news now.”

‘ ‘Why did you send for me at this time?”

“Because since spring Caesar has broken the Helvetians and, unless I’m much mistaken, will soon have crushed Ariovistus. But there’s no sign of his armies returning to the south. I hear he is building heavily fortified winter camps, permanent bases, in every area he has thus far penetrated in Gaul. There can no longer be any doubt that you were right in your assessment of his plans. The next step is, what do we do about it?”

We were sitting together beside the fire, lolling at apparent ease on fur-cushioned benches, with brimming cups in our hands. But there was nothing relaxed about either of us.

I considered. “Send word at once to the kings of the tribes of free Gaul. Request them to attend a council meeting here, Gergovia is central enough. But don’t call it a council of war. Just summon them now, before the outcome of Caesar’s campaign against Ariovistus is known to alL If you wait until Caesar is celebrating another impressive victory, they may be too intimidated by him.”

“Do you think they’ll come?” Rix asked, his voice calmly curious, his eyes on the flames.

“Most of them. And some of those who hold back will come galloping along soon enough, once they begin suspecting the oth-ers might be plotting behind their backs. We’ve all grown very suspicious of one another here in Gaul. Make it work for you.”

Rix turned to face me. “You’ll stay here and sit beside me in the council?”

“Right by your ear,” I promised.

Mounted messengers sped from Gergovia at dawn. One does not summon kings by shouting on the wind.

While waiting, I explored Gergovia in the company ofHanesa the Talker, who was delighted to see me. He told everyone we met, “The king and I took Ainvar with us to the Province, you

know. Ah yes. And now he’s chief druid of the Camutes, the most gifted Keeper of the Grove ever to be bom in Gaul. 1 always knew

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he had extraordinary gifts, I think I was aware of them before anyone else actually.’ *

I pretended not to hear. Kings require excess; druids do not.

As we walked through the laneways and across the few open spaces of the sprawling fortress, which held hundreds of lodges and was home to thousands, I watched for some trace of German mercenaries. I found none. Of course, what Rix might be doing in the borderlands was another matter. I did not ask him outright;

I did not want to force him to lie to me.

But the danger of having Germans among his followers continued to prey on my mind. They would draw Caesar to attack him more surely than gold or cattle, and I had an uneasy feeling thai I had never convinced him of that danger.