“Or yours, perhaps,” said Caillean, and Dieda laughed a little. Eilan sensed hostility between the two and wondered why.
“I think they know what I would say to that,” Dieda said. “If it is to seek out Cynric, yes; but to make an oracle for Lhiannon to deliver obediently as if she were no more than a puppet for the will of Rome —”
“In the name of the Goddess, any goddess, be silent, child,” Caillean ordered, listening to a gate slamming somewhere near by. “What is it? Who is here?”
“Only his holiness, my father,” Dieda muttered, “and the greatest priestess of all the Forest House, who will obediently deliver such oracles as he shall desire.”
“Be silent, you wretched creature,” hissed Caillean. “You well know that what you say is sacrilege.”
“Or perhaps there is a greater sacrilege here, in which I have no part,” Dieda replied. “Perhaps, with Sight, they want to make certain they send the Romans against the right party. If so, what will you do, Caillean?”
“I will do whatever Lhiannon commands,” said Caillean, her voice sharpening. “As we all do.”
Caillean was trying to speak reasonably to soften Dieda’s wrath; but the other girl seemed angrier than ever. Dieda had always been sharp-tongued, but Eilan had never heard her so bitter before.
“I know what you would have us think —” Dieda began, but Caillean’s face flushed with anger. Still she spoke calmly.
“You know perfectly well that it is not what you think, or what I think, that matters,” she began, “but what the High Priestess wills; and that is what I will do.”
“If it is her will,” Dieda answered more quietly, “but under present conditions, how can Lhiannon’s will be done – even if her will could somehow be determined or if she even has one any more.” ,
“Dieda, I have heard this all before,” Caillean said wearily. “But is it such an evil thing to summon our kinsman Cynric so that he may fittingly mourn his foster mother?”
“We could have done that weeks ago,” Dieda began.
“Perhaps, but that is all that you – or I – are being asked to do,” Caillean repeated. “Why have you set yourself so stubbornly against it now?”
“Because I know, if you do not,” Dieda said, “that this use of power is to trick Cynric into doing what his whole life has been spent in learning to oppose; what Bendeigid himself would rather die than do, and that is to clasp hands with Rome. Know you not that for his sake it was that Bendeigid allowed himself to be proscribed?”
“Oh, in the name of the Goddess, girl! I know something of Cynric too, and of Bendeigid,” said Caillean crossly. “And, believe it or not, even something of the Romans; at least I have lived under their rule longer than you. And I say that there shall be no violence done to your precious ethical precepts, nor to Cynric’s. Do you think, perhaps, that you are the only person in all of Britannia who knows what Cynric wishes to do?”
“I know enough —” Dieda began, but Caillean said harshly “Hush; they will hear us. And Eilan must be thoroughly confused by now -”
Dieda’s face softened. “I suppose so, and it is an ill welcome for her to hear us disputing so.” She came and embraced Eilan, who knew enough not to protest lest she start the argument again.
At this moment the inner door opened and Lhiannon stood before them.
“Children, are you quarreling?”
“Of course not, my mother,” said Caillean quickly. And after a moment Dieda added, “No, certainly not, Holy Mother; we were only welcoming the new novice.”
“Ah, yes; I heard that Eilan was to come,” said Lhiannon, and turned her gaze on the young girl who stood quietly between them. Eilan felt her heart thump loudly as she looked at the woman she had last seen standing like a goddess beside the Beltane fire.
“So you are Eilan?” Lhiannon’s voice was sweet but a little thin, as if being the mouthpiece of the Goddess for so many years had worn its strength away. “It is true; you are very like Dieda; I suppose you are weary of being told that. But we must devise some way to tell you apart here at the shrine.” She smiled, and Eilan felt an odd surge of protectiveness.