“It’s, why it’s Gaius Macellius,” said Macro. “Sir, what are you doing here?”
“I should think it is rather my place to ask that of you,” said Gaius, releasing his breath. “They know in Deva that you are gone. What do you think will happen if they find out you came here?”
The man’s face turned gray-white. “You wouldn’t tell them, would you, sir?”
Gaius pretended to hesitate long enough for the men to shudder, then shrugged. “Well, I’m not your officer. If you head back now you shouldn’t get into too much trouble, not with all that’s going on in the town.”
“Sir, we can’t do that,” said the other man. “Longus is still in there.”
Gaius felt his heart sink. “You can’t help him by staying here,” he said evenly. “Go on, that’s an order. I’ll do what I can for your friend.”
His tension eased a little as he heard them crashing off through the trees, but even one legionary was too many if found where he had no business to be.
Moving as if he were leading a patrol back on the border, Gaius slipped across the open space to the wall. There should be a back gate somewhere – the wall was intended more as a symbol of separation than an actual defense. His hand touched the latch, and then he was easing into the open space where he had seen his son playing ball. Senara had chattered a great deal about her life here. The big building in front of him must be the House of Maidens. There was a dark patch behind the kitchen that looked like a good place to watch from. He crept towards it.
Someone else had thought so too. As he knelt, he touched bare skin. Someone yelped and there was a brief struggle before Gaius got the fellow pinned with a hand over his mouth.
“Longus?” he whispered. His captive nodded vigorously. “Your wager is off. Your companions have gone home, and if you know what’s good for you you’ll follow them.” Longus sighed, then nodded again, and Gaius let him go. But as the man crossed the yard, a door opened and lamplight spilled across the ground. Longus froze like a trapped hare. “Run, you fool!” Gaius hissed from the shadows.
Longus scrambled over the gate, but suddenly the place was alive with men in white robes. Druid priests! thought Gaius. What were they doing here? His hiding place would be revealed in a moment, for they were bringing torches. He began to edge around the building. Somebody swore in British behind him and he whirled, instinctively drawing his sword.
The man screamed as the blade went in and the others came pelting towards him. Gaius fought as well as he could, and he supposed he must have done some damage, from the brutality with which they clubbed and kicked him after superior numbers had finally brought him down.
“Well, Daughter, are you ready for the festival?” Bendeigid, arrayed in the ceremonial bull-hide cloak and the golden ornaments of the Arch-Druid over his white woolen gown, looked magnificent, but Eilan’s heart sank as she returned his salutation.
“I am ready,” she said quietly. The maidens had come as they did before every festival to prepare her. For the last time, her heart cried as they bathed her and set the sacred wreath of vervain on her brow. At least she would go the Goddess cleansed and sanctified.
For a moment he leaned on his staff, looking at her. Then he gestured to the priests and her women to leave them.
“Listen, child, there is no longer any need to dissemble. They have told me how Ardanos used to come to you, and the tricks he used to bind your will. I am sorry I accused you of betraying us before.”
Eilan kept her gaze lowered, afraid he would see the anger in her eyes. For thirteen years she had been High Priestess, mistress of the Forest House, the most respected woman in the land. Why was he talking as if she were still a child? But this was the loving father who had once said he would rather see her drowned than a Roman’s bride. She could not afford to antagonize him; in the confusion, it had been afternoon before Senara and Lia had been able to leave the Forest House with Gawen. She had to buy time for them to get well away.