“How will I know?”
Caillean laughed, not unkindly. “You were present when your sister’s second child was born. How much do you remember?”
“What I remember of that time is the raiders, and how you carried fire,” Eilan said meekly.
Caillean smiled. “Well, I think it will not be long now. Perhaps you will deliver on the Feast of the Maiden — your hands were busy this morning, and such restlessness is often seen when a child stirs in readiness to be born. And I have brought you a gift, a garland of white birch twigs, sacred to the Mother. See – I will hang it above your bed that it may bring you good fortune at Her hands.” She rose and drew the wreath from her bag.
“The gods men follow may seem to shun you, but the Goddess cares for all Her daughters who stand where you stand now. After the festival I will come again, though it will be no pleasure seeing Dieda in your place there.”
“How delighted I am to hear your opinion,” someone said from the doorway, the sweetness of her voice intensifying the sting of her words. “But if you do not like me in the role of High Priestess, surely it is a little late to be saying so!”
A figure heavily veiled in dark blue was standing there. Eilan’s eyes widened and Caillean flushed angrily.
“Why have you come here?”
“Why not?” Dieda asked. “Do you not think it gracious of the High Priestess to visit her fallen kinswoman? All of our dear sisters are aware that someone is living here, you know, and have concluded it is me. I will not have a shred of reputation left when I eventually ‘return’.”
Eilan’s voice shook. “Did you come only to gloat over my shame, Dieda?”
“Strangely enough, I did not,” Dieda put back her veil. “Eilan, in spite of all that has been between us, I wish you well. You are not the only one who is alone. I have had no word of Cynric since he went north, and he has sent no word to me. He cares for nothing but the fate of the Ravens. Perhaps when this deception is over I should go north instead of to Eriu and become one of the warrior women who serve the goddess of battles.”
“Nonsense,” said Caillean tartly. “You would make a very poor warrior, but you are a gifted bard.”
Dieda shrugged helplessly. “Perhaps, but I must find some way to atone for serving Ardanos’s treachery.”
“Do you truly call it so?” asked Eilan; “I do not. I have had time to think, living here, and it seems to me that the Lady has allowed this to happen to Her priestess so that I may understand the need to protect all the children of this land. It is peace, not war, that I will work for when I return.”
Dieda looked down at Eilan. She said slowly, “I never had any wish for a child by Cynric or any other man. And yet I think that if I were bearing a child to Cynric, I might feel as you do.” Her eyes were glistening with tears and she dashed them angrily away. “I must return before busy tongues have time to spin too many tales. I came only to wish you good fortune; but it seems that even here, Caillean has forestalled me.”
She turned, pulling her veil over her face once more, and before either of them could find words to reply, was gone.
Every day, it seemed, the light lasted a little longer. The branches blushed with returning sap and the swans began courting in the marshes. Though winter storms might still come to lash the land, there was a sense that spring was coming. The men who worked the land took down their plowshares from the rafters, and the fishermen began to caulk their vessels, and the shepherds stayed out all night on the cold hillsides with the lambing ewes.
Gaius rode out, listening to the sounds of new life all around him, and counted the days. It had been Beltane when he and Eilan lay together, and since then nine moons had passed. She would be giving birth soon now. Women died in childbirth sometimes. He watched returning waterfowl unraveling across the sky and knew that whether he married Julia or not, he had to see Eilan once more.