“She was my foster mother,” Cynric remarked, “but for her sake I thank you. We have a saying in the North that blood binds for three generations, but fosterage for seven. And indeed my foster father’s wife was as good to me as if I had been born to her.”
“She was a gracious lady indeed,” Gaius agreed. “And for your sake I grieve for her.” If he had married Eilan he would have welcomed this man as a brother. And yet, by accident of birth, he and Cynric had been on opposite sides of this struggle until now. At least others than Romans commit outrages, he thought. “I saw the ashes of your home, but my father sent me north immediately thereafter. Perhaps I struck a blow or two on her behalf against those Caledonians. I was glad to hear that the Hibernian raiders were punished.”
“At least I, too, got to strike a blow for them. That was the first time in my life I was not ashamed of the Roman blood in my veins.” Cynric went on. “I think that Beltane when you guested with us was the last time we were all happy together. All who survived are scattered now.”
“I was at the Hill of the Maidens this last Beltane,” Gaius said carefully. “I saw Dieda, and Eilan your foster sister, there. I was glad to know she had survived.”
“Aye,” Cynric said shortly. “She is in the Forest House, a priestess of the Great Goddess. As for Dieda, she is Eilan’s kin, but none to me. Nor likely to be, if she stays there!”
“I have a friend in the Legions -” Gaius said then.
Cynric laughed. “Well, I am not surprised at that-”
Gaius shook his head. “His sister married a Briton, and was cast off by her kin. They had a daughter, but the sister’s dead now, and they say her husband is on the run. My friend wants to find the little girl.”
“On the run . . .” Cynric said thoughtfully. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because they say he was one of those who fly at midnight —”
“Many birds fly at midnight.” Cynric gazed into his wine. “What was the man’s name?”
“Hadron,” said Gaius. “His wife was called Valeria.”
“I know little of birds,” said Cynric, “but I can ask around.”
“Could they have taken the child to the Forest House? Would your kinswomen know?”
“I could ask,” answered Cynric.
I would rather ask her myself, thought Gaius, but he did not know how to say so. And how did he know that Eilan even wanted to see him again? If she was happy in the Forest House, would he be only breaking her peace to try and see her there? He had done his duty to Valerius. Should he make some excuse and disappear again?
He realized that he had been silent too long when Cynric refilled his cup from the jug of wine and shoved it back at him.
“There’s more to this than a lost child,” said the Briton. “What did you really want to say?”
“I must see Eilan again,” Gaius burst out suddenly. “I swear I mean her no harm. I only want to know she is happy there.”
For a moment Cynric stared at him, then threw back his head with a roar of laughter that turned heads all over the room. “You’re in love!” he laughed again. “I should have recognized the symptoms. Isn’t my own girl locked away behind those very walls?”
“But you’re a kinsman,” said Gaius seriously. “They’ll let you talk to her. Can you arrange something for me?”
“Why not?” Cynric grinned. “I’ve never seen any reason to keep the priestesses all penned up. That’s like something you Romans would do. Dieda won’t see or speak to me since she went in there, but my foster sister is not a prisoner. I will see what I can arrange for you.” He drained his wine cup. “Be at the edge of the path leading to the Forest House three days from now, an hour after noon.”
As Eilan waited in the woods near the Sacred Grove in the unusual brightness of the early summer sunlight she was surprised to find that she was trembling. At first, when Cynric had spoken to her of a meeting with Gaius, it had seemed like the answer to an unusually fervent prayer. But she soon realized that the most dangerous thing in the world is an answered prayer. Her chances of keeping the meeting a secret were slim indeed. And no one would believe her if they were discovered.