“What became of her?”
“In the end, I think we feared Veleda more than we did Civilis.” Constantius shook his head ruefully. “He was the kind of enemy we could understand, but she had the ear of the eternal powers. Eventually she was captured, and ended her days in the Temple of Vesta, as I have heard.”
In the pause that followed the chirring of the crickets seemed suddenly very loud. Beneath that audible rhythm I sensed rather than heard the heartbeat of the drums.
“I have heard,” Docles said into the silence, “that you yourself have some training in the seeress’s craft.”
I glanced at Constantius, who shrugged, as if to say it was not he who had spread that word. It should not have suprised me to learn that Docles had his own sources of information. His parents were freed slaves who had become the clients of Senator Anulinus, their old master. For Docles to have risen from such humble origins to command the young Emperor’s bodyguard indicated that he was a man of uncommon abilities.
“It is true that I was trained as a priestess in Britannia,” I answered, wondering whether this was only idle conversation or if some deeper meaning was implied.
Maximian raised himself on one elbow. He was country-bred himself, and I had noticed his fingers twitching to the drumbeat, though I did not think he realized he was doing it.
“Mistress, I know what powers fare abroad this eve,” he said solemnly.” ‘Tis a night when the doors do open ‘tween the worlds. Don’t waste the moment, lads—” he gestured a little tipsily with his goblet, and I realized that they had stopped watering the wine. “Let the strega use her powers for us, an’ show us th’ way out o’ the tangle we’re in!”
I drew back, startled at his language—in my own country folk did not speak so of a priestess of Avalon—and Constantius laid a protecting hand on my arm.
“Take care, Maximian—my wife is no hedge-witch to brew you up a pot of spells.”
“Nor did I ever say she was.” He gave me an apologetic nod. “Shall I call her a Druid priestess, then?”
They all twitched at that, remembering how Caesar had dealt with the Druids of Gallia. But I had recovered myself: it was no more than the truth, after all, and better they should think my craft a survival of lost Celtic wisdom than suspect the existence of Avalon. Constantius’s grip tightened, but my sudden fear had left me. Perhaps it was the power of Beltane Eve, like a fire in the blood. I felt my head swimming as if I already scented the smoke of the sacred herbs. It had been so long, so very long, since I had done trance-work. Like a woman meeting an old lover after many years, I trembled with re-awakened desire.
“Lady,” added Docles with his usual dignity, “it would be an honour and a privilege if you would consent to divine for us now.”
Constantius still looked uncertain, and I realized that he too had grown accustomed to seeing me as his mate, the mother of his child, and forgotten that I had once been something more. But the other two out-ranked him. After a moment he sighed. “It is for my lady to decide…”
I straightened, looking from one to the other. “I promise nothing—it has been many years since I practised this craft. Nor will I instruct you how to interpret what you may hear, or even whether what you are hearing is my own ravings or the voice of some god. I can promise only that I will try.”
Now all three men were staring, as if, having got what they asked for, they were wondering whether they wanted it after all. But with every breath the ties that bound my spirit to the waking world were loosening. I rang the little bell that would summon Philip and asked that he take the silver bowl that was kept in Constantius’s study, fill it with water, and bring it to us here. Hylas, who had somehow escaped from my bedchamber, settled himself across my feet, as if understanding that I would need an anchor when I fared between the worlds.