The Forest House (44 page)

After a few days her breasts ceased to ache and she knew that another woman would feed her little one now. Another woman would hold him close during the long night hours and pat the bubbles away and comfort him, would have the sweet labor of bathing the firm little body. Someone else would lean over his cradle and sing the lullabies her mother had taught her. But not Eilan. She could not - she must not -

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or all she had suffered to achieve was lost.

It was announced that the High Priestess was ill to cover the transition, and late one night Eilan was brought back to the Forest House and Dieda was spirited away, bound for further bardic training in Eriu as promised. By the time she returned, it was their hope that everyone would have forgotten there had ever been two maidens in Vernemeton who looked almost the same. With Cynric still a prisoner, it was clearly impossible for Dieda to go to him even if she had desired it. In the end, Dieda seemed reconciled to the prospect of learning from the bards of a land that had never been touched by Rome.

Only now, as she resumed her duties as Priestess of the Oracles, did Eilan realize how isolated she would henceforward be. Part of this was the result of the seclusion forced on Dieda as part of the deception, but it was also a result of her change in status. As was her right, Eilan honored Caillean, Eilidh, Miellyn and young Senara by choosing them as her primary attendants, but she saw little of the other priestesses except at the ceremonies.

From time to time in the past the Forest House had sheltered women or children like Senara who had need of care. It was therefore unusual, but not unheard of, to take in the young woman called Lia and the infant the Arch-Druid had brought to her to wet-nurse and install them in the roundhouse next to the herb sheds where visitors usually stayed. Nor was it even so surprising that Caillean should take the baby to the High Priestess, saying that she might be cheered by holding a young child.

After that first joyful reunion, Eilan wept copiously; for it seemed to her that Gawen, being nursed by Lia, had somehow become almost more Lia's child than hers. Nevertheless it seemed a miracle to her that Ardanos, even under duress, had kept his word. She wondered sometimes how Caillean had persuaded him, but did not dare to ask.

Naturally her partiality for the child caused gossip. But Caillean took the precaution of confiding to old Latis — in strictest confidence - that the child belonged to Eilan's sister Mairi, born of a father unknown, and had been sent here because Mairi was thinking of marrying again. Within a week the story was all over Vernemeton, as they had expected. But although there were some who believed the baby was Dieda's, no one appeared to suspect he was Eilan's. And with most of the women the boy soon became a pet.

Eilan felt guilt for the damage to the reputations of her sister and the girl who had been like a sister to her. But after all they had assented, however reluctantly. Worse was the torment of not being able to acknowledge her child. But she must not - she would not - and, as week followed week, confession became less and less possible.

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It seemed to Eilan that time went by very slowly under this uneasy reprieve; Ardanos had returned from Deva, and, almost gloating, reported that Macellius's son was married to the daughter of the Procurator in Londinium. She had known this must happen, but she could hardly keep from weeping, though she resolved not to in the sight of Ardanos.

She had to believe that both she and Gaius had made the right decision, but she could not help wondering about the woman whom she could not keep from thinking of as her rival. Was she beautiful?

Did he speak words of love to her, from time to time? Eilan was the mother of his first son; did that not count for something? Or was she forgotten? And if she were, how would she ever know?

But time went on — as it always does, no matter what shifts are taken to ignore its passing - and the festival of Beltane came upon her, when she must serve again as the voice of the Oracle.

Eilan had thought that she had resolved her doubts when she became High Priestess. Perhaps they were returning now because of the child. In the dark hours of the night she wondered if this time she would be punished for her blasphemy, though by daylight she reasoned that if she had lived through the first time, the Goddess was unlikely to be insulted now. If the Power she had felt during her initiation was a delusion, then she had given up Gaius for nothing. But if Ardanos did not truly believe in the Goddess he served, then it was
he
not she, who was committing the blasphemy. If she meant to continue in this role, it was essential to learn whether it was the Arch-Druid's interpretation or the Goddess Herself that was the lie.

As Eilan was preparing and purifying herself, it occurred to her that drinking from the golden bowl would be more dramatic done in the sight of the people, and resolved to speak of this to Ardanos when she saw him again. He readily agreed to the change, as if surprised that she should have thought upon the matter at all.

This time, Eilan herself mixed the herbs she would be drinking, and made certain substitutions, retaining those that would increase vision and leaving out the ones that detached the senses from the will. As a result she was vividly aware of the vast hush that descended over the assembled gathering. She could feel their reverence and expectation. From a purely public point of view she could understand it. She knew that the people responded to her beauty as they had never responded to Lhiannon's faded charm. But there must have been a time when Lhiannon too had been young and very beautiful. Had it never been any more than this - a drama staged by the priests of whom her grandfather was foremost? Surely the first time she sat in the Oracle's chair the Power that spoke through her had been real.

Eilan drank, and felt the familiar dip and lift of the trance state take her. Remembering how the potion had affected her before, she slumped in her chair with lids half-closed so that Ardanos would not see the
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intelligence in her eyes. And this time, when the Arch-Druid began his incantation she was aware that instructions were being interspersed into the spell. It was clear what was wanted -and why.

Now she understood why Ardanos wanted a Priestess of the Oracles who did not rely on inspiration.

She had heard him speak before of all the benefits to Britain that would come from the civilizing influence of the Romans. In fact she remembered his saying something like this on that evening in her father's house before she knew who Gaius really was. Well, at least the Arch-Druid could not be accused of inconsistency.

In her last meeting with Gaius she had learned enough to agree that - for now — Ardanos might even have the right idea. Used wisely, the Oracle could be a powerful tool to bring peace to Britain. So long as Ardanos was Arch-Druid, and so long as his policies were indeed the path of wisdom, perhaps what they were doing was not even so great a sin. But if Eilan were to be something more than Ardanos's instrument; she would have to understand what was going on in the world outside her walls. Potentially, the High Priestess of Vernemeton could exercise an influence that went far beyond her role as Oracle. By learning what her grandfather was doing, she had also taken on the responsibility for deciding whether or not to cooperate, and how far.

Eilan believed that something other than her own hidden will had spoken through her before. But no single human could carry the full power of a goddess. When a divine spirit possessed a body, it not only became accessible, but took on some of that body's limitations; it had to work with the material at hand.

Goddess, help me!her spirit cried.
If You are there, Lady, and not just my delusion, show me how to
do Your will!

Ardanos's invocation ended, but the expectation of the crowd around her was building. As the smoke of the sacred herbs billowed from the fires, Eilan felt a Presence building up behind her.

Lady, I am in Your hands.With a sigh, Eilan allowed control to slip away. She had the sensation that soft arms were holding her, but at the same time she knew that her body was sitting up, and the One whose power now flowed through it was fixing Ardanos with a radiant smile.

Grandfather,she thought,
be careful! Can you not see Who has come to you now?
But he had turned to the people, and was leading them in the invocation, and she knew he could not see. Her awareness turned inward then.
Goddess have mercy!
her spirit cried.
He works for the good of his people —

give him the wisdom to do the right thing - for the sake of us all!

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And in the silence of the place to which she had come, it seemed to her that there was a reply.

"Daughter, I care for all my children, even when they quarrel; and for all times, not only the one you are living through. My Light may be your darkness; and your winter the prelude to My spring. Will you accept this, that a greater good may come?"

"I will, but do not leave, me, for You are all I have,"she answered, and once more that Voice spoke within her.

"How could I leave you — do you not know I love you as you love your child?"

The Lady's love surrounded her. Eilan allowed herself to sink into it as into her own mother's arms. As if from a great distance she was aware of Ardanos's questions. She remembered the answers he had told her to give, but they no longer seemed important. Knowledge came to her; she knew what she said in reply, and yet the Self who spoke those words, this time in the language of the people, was not the Eilan she knew.

Eilan could not tell how long it went on. In that state where she rested now there was no time at all. And yet a time did come when she heard her own name called. She moaned and tried to turn away. Why should she return? But the cool air with which they were fanning her and the drops of water that splashed her face and hands could not be ignored. They drew her back into her body once more.

She shuddered and gasped, and suddenly she was herself, Eilan, once more, looking at the awed faces of the people around her with wide eyes.

Ardanos was instructing the people to depart in peace. There was almost a hint of smugness in the satisfaction that filled his smile.

He does not understand,Eilan thought then.
He thinks he did it all . . .
But if the Arch-Druid did not understand the power of the Goddess he said he served, it was not for her to enlighten him. She could only trust that the Lady knew Her own business, and would continue to watch over them.

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Gaius spent the first months of his marriage fighting the awareness that it was based upon a lie. He suspected that Julia was more enamored of being married than she was of him, but she was cheerful and affectionate, and as long as he was reasonably attentive, she seemed satisfied with his companionship. He could only thank the gods for the innocence, or perhaps the lack of emotional depth, which prevented her from realizing a relationship between a man and a woman ought to be a great deal more.

Licinius, who believed that a young couple should not be separated in the first year of their marriage, had arranged for Gaius to serve as an
aedile
in charge of government buildings in Londinium, which would give him some of the experience in public service necessary to advance his career. At first he had protested lack of background, and wondered if his father-in-law had got him the job simply so that Julia could continue to keep house for him, but he found that although his staff of slaves and freedmen could do the work, they needed the authority of a man of status to deal with the rest of the government.

Presently, he realized that a childhood spent listening to his father deal with the problems of maintaining a major fortress had prepared him for his new responsibilities quite well.

"Treasure the time you have with Julia now, my lad," Licinius would say, patting him on the shoulder, "for you'll be parted often enough in the future, especially if you're assigned duty in Dacia or some other post on the frontier." They both knew that the path of promotion led all over the Empire; a long-term provincial post such as Camp Prefect or Procurator was awarded only at the end of a career.

These were the crucial years, when the name a young man made for himself - and the contacts -

determined how far he would rise. Soon Gaius would need to spend some time in Rome itself; he found himself looking forward to it. Meanwhile he applied himself to understanding the workings of government in the smaller reflection of the capital that Londinium had become.

More quickly than he could have imagined, a year went by. From time to time disturbing news came from Rome. The Emperor had got himself elected to the office of Consul for the next ten years, and Censor for life in addition to the powers he already had. The patricians muttered darkly that it was a plot to gain control over the Senate, but did little more, for at the moment the army was quite happy with their Emperor, who had raised pay by one-third. As an officer Gaius could not object to that, but it was clear which way the wind was blowing. Even more than his predecessors, Domitian seemed to regard the remaining democratic institutions of Rome as outdated, and certainly inconvenient.

A few months after their marriage, Licinius had engaged a tutor -primarily for Julia, he said - so that she might learn to speak better Greek and more polished Latin, and Gaius, to his chagrin, was urged to share these lessons. "For if you go to Rome, it will be necessary for you to speak good Greek; and a more aristocratic Latin," he pointed out.

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Stung, Gaius had protested. From his earliest boyhood, Macellius had insisted that tutors should be engaged, and that he became as fluent in Latin as in the tribal Celtic language of his mother's kin.

"Plain Latin is good enough for me," he protested.

"No doubt it's good enough for an army camp," Julia argued, "but believe me, it would be better to speak to the Senate in Celtic than in that vulgar dialect of Deva."