Finally he was free to seek Eilan out once more. But the face of the Fury he had seen at the Midsummer festival came between him and his memories, and it was the face of the girl he had met at the hermit’s the year before that went with him into sleep at last.
Twenty- Seven
In the middle of February the storms gave way to a period of fair, clear weather, brisk but sunny. In sheltered spots early fruit trees began to put forth buds and the branches grew red with returning sap. The hills were melodious with the bleating of new lambs, and the marshes resounded with the calls of returning swans.
Eilan looked at the blue sky and realized that the time had come to keep her word to Macellius. She was waiting in the garden when Senara answered her summons.
“It is a fair day,” Senara said, clearly wondering why Eilan had called her away from her duties.
“It is that,” Eilan agreed, “a fair bright day for performing an unwelcome duty. But you are the only one I can ask.”
“And what is that?”
“Brigitta’s daughters have been here for a year now, and it is time to send them to the Romans as I promised. They have kept their word regarding Brigitta, and I trust them to deal kindly with the children. But it must be done quietly, lest all the old enmity be awakened again. You are old enough to take them to Deva, and you know the Latin tongue enough to ask your way to the house of Macellius Severus. Will you take them there?”
“Severus?” Senara frowned. “I think I remember that name. My mother told me once that her brother served him, and that he was a hard man, but fair.”
“That is my understanding.” Eilan nodded. “The sooner the girls are in his care, the sooner he can settle them in their new home.”
“But they will grow up Romans,” Senara protested then.
“Would that be so bad a thing?” Eilan smiled at her. “Your own mother was a Roman, after all.”
“That is true . . .” the girl said thoughtfully. “Sometimes I wonder about her family, and what it was like growing up in that world. Very well,” she said at last. “I will go.”
It took some time to make the children ready, for Eilan wished to make sure that no one in the Roman town should have cause to say that the girls had been neglected while they were among the Druids; but at last even Eilan was satisfied, and Senara, holding a little girl by either hand, was ready to set out for Deva.
The day was crisp but clear, and even with one child in her arms and the other trotting at her side, Senara made good time. The children babbled merrily, excited by the outing. When they grew tired, she tied the younger girl in her shawl, where she soon fell asleep, and picked up the older one in her arms. By this time she could see the straggle of houses at the edge of the city and the stout log walls of the fortress beyond. When she reached the central Forum, she sat down on a bench beside a fountain to rearrange her burdens before asking her way to the house of Macellius.
Suddenly the sunlight was blotted out. Senara looked up to behold the Roman she had met at the house of the hermit the year before. Later it seemed altogether symbolic to her that he should stand between her and the sun; but she did not think of that then.
“I have seen you before, haven’t I?” he asked.
“At Father Petros’s hut,” she said, blushing. One of the children awakened and stared at him with owlish eyes. She had not seen him at any gathering of the small group of local Nazarenes; but then, living as she did actually within the Forest House, she was not able to go there very often. She had gone the first time from curiosity, and later because the Roman tongue seemed somehow a link with her dead mother, and finally, because she found comfort there.