Lhiannon reached out one hand to Eilan, who was still standing nervously by the door. “Come in, child. Your father and grandfather are here with us, you know.” Eilan wondered why she should be surprised, since her father had escorted her here. Was he then living among the priests?
Lhiannon took Eilan’s arm gently and drew the girl into the inner room, adding to the two older priestesses, in her sweet voice, “Come in too. Both of you will be needed here.”
The inner room seemed small, or perhaps it was only that too many people had crowded into it. Smoke curled thickly from herbs burning in a brazier in the center of the room; their smell made Eilan’s head swim. Between the smoke and the crowd, for a moment she found it hard to breathe.
After a moment her focus steadied and she saw her father, his face made gaunt by the past moon’s grief until he looked almost as old as Ardanos.
Her grandfather, who was adding something to the fire, looked up at the women and said, “So we are all here. And once again I am confused; which of you is which?”
Eilan stood silent, waiting for someone older to answer, but Dieda said boldly, “It is easy to tell, Father. Eilan has not yet been given the dress of a priestess.”
“So that is how you expect me to tell my daughter from my granddaughter! Well, perhaps it is only the smoke in here. But I still find them too much alike for my comfort,” said the older Druid briskly. “So, Eilan, you have arrived here at a sad time; we must summon Cynric to our Councils, and as he has been brought up with you as a foster brother your assistance will be helpful. Are you ready, Caillean?”
Caillean said quietly “If Lhiannon wills it.”
“I do,” Lhiannon answered. “Whatever comes of this, Cynric must know of the death of his foster mother and of these new outrages. The Romans are not our only enemies -”
Dieda said quietly through her teeth, “How would you like to say that to Mairi at this moment, Father?”
“Peace, child,” Ardanos said. “Whatever you may think, Macellius Severus is a good man; he was as angry when I told him as if his own house had been burnt.”
“I doubt that,” Dieda murmured, but low enough so that only Caillean and Eilan could hear. ,
The old Druid frowned at her; then he said, “Caillean, my child -”
Caillean, with a glance at Lhiannon, went to a cupboard and took out a small silver bowl, simple but for an elaborate chasing of patterns on the outside. She filled it with water from a ewer and set it on the table. Ardanos pulled up a three-legged stool so that she could sit down before it, while Lhiannon took her place in a carved chair near by.
Ardanos waved Caillean aside. “Wait,” he said; “Dieda, it was you who were closest to him; it is you who must look into the water and summon him.”
Dieda flushed and for a moment Eilan wondered if she would refuse outright. Dieda had always had more courage than she – or had her grandfather mistaken them again? He was looking at her; then he turned aside and his eyes sought out Dieda. “You were pledged,” he said. “I ask it of you, child —” and his voice was more tender than Eilan had ever heard it. “For your sister’s sake I ask it; she was his foster mother before you were born.”
Eilan thought, He plays on us all as if we were his harps. But Dieda could not ignore the tenderness in his voice either. She murmured, “As you will, Father,” and took her place before the bowl.
Ardanos began, “So then, we are gathered here in this place that is already protected and purified to summon Cynric, the foster son of Bendeigid. All of you, who are of all the living the nearest he has to kindred, must hold his image in memory, and add the calling of your hearts to mine.” He struck the floor with his staff, and Eilan heard the sweet jangle of silver bells.