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 – 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.
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?