Bertrice Small - To Love Again

Cailin started at a touch on her arm. Turning, she looked into Corio's face for the first time. He was a pleasant-looking man with mild blue eyes.

"Come, and my grandmother will feed us. New bread is always best eaten warm. We are cousins, are we not? My father is Eppilus, Ceara's youngest son. I am only the first of your relations that you will meet. Your mother had ten brothers, all of whom are alive, and most have children, and in some cases grandchildren, of their own. You will not be lonely here."

Cailin looked to Brenna. She was pale, but her breathing was steady and even. The girl turned away and followed the young man back to where Ceara was busy preparing the morning meal. The big woman ladled cooked barley cereal into two fresh trenchers of bread, and handed them to the couple.

"There are spoons on the table, if you are dainty," Corio told her. "Come and sit down." He wolfed down a bite of his bread and cereal.

They sat, and Ceara plunked two goblets down before them. "Watered wine," she said, and then, there being no one else in the hall, she joined them. "You remind me of your mother, and yet you do not look quite as she looked at your age. Was she happy with your father?"

"Oh, yes!" Cailin said. "We were a happy family!" Abruptly, the enormity of the tragedy engulfed her. Only yesterday Kyna, her father, and her brothers were alive. There had been no warning at all of their demise-not that it would have been any easier to bear if there had been, but to have survived the murderous slaughter of her family only by chance was more than she could bear. Why should she live when they were all gone?

It was the very first Beltane festival that she had been allowed to stay at unchaperoned. Brenna had given Cailin her head that night, and once on her own, Cailin had begun to see things in a new light. All the young men had wanted to dance with her, and she danced about the leaping fires until almost dawn. She had not been ready to slip away into the darkness with any man yet, but drank her first cupful of honeyed mead and felt wonderful afterward. Cailin thought to return home with her brothers, but they had gone off much earlier, into the darkness with two maidens. She had not seen them again. Only when the false dawn began to lighten the skies, and the music finally stopped, did she wend her way back to the villa, to discover that death had been there before her.

Now, Cailin grew pale and shoved the trencher away from her. The very thought of food was nauseating.

Ceara divined the trouble immediately. "It is the will of the gods," she said quietly. "Sometimes they are kind, and sometimes they are cruel, and sometimes in being kind, unkind. You and Brenna are alive this day because your journey in this world is not yet done. Would you dare to question the wisdom of the gods, Cailin Drusus?"

"Yes!" Cailin cried. "Why should I live when my family does not? What could my brothers have possibly accomplished in this life that rendered their existence no longer necessary in this world? They were just seventeen!"

"I cannot answer you, child," Ceara said honestly. "All I can tell you is that everything happens when it is supposed to happen. What is death? It is but the doorway between this life and the next. We need not fear it. When your time comes, Cailin, those you love who have gone before you will be waiting on the Isles of the Blest for you. Until then it is your duty to the gods who created you to live out your destiny as they have planned you to live it out. You can, of course, whine, and despair about the unfairness of it all, but why would you so futilely waste the precious time allotted to you?"

"Am I not allowed to mourn then?" Cailin asked bitterly.

"Mourn the manner in which they met their ends," Ceara said, "but do not mourn them. They have gone on to a far better place. Now eat your breakfast, Cailin Drusus. You need your strength if you are to care for Brenna."

"Do not treat me as if I were a mindless child, lady," Cailin said.

"Then do not behave like a child," Ceara replied with a small smile, rising from her place at the board. "From the look of you, you are a girl full grown, and we are not idle people. You will be expected to earn your keep, which will leave you little time for feeling sorry for yourself." She turned from Cailin and began to serve breakfast to the others who were now entering the hall.

"Do not let my grandmother's bark fool you," Corio said with a grin as Cailin glared fiercely at Ceara's back. "She is noted for her soft heart. She only seeks to prevent you from hurting yourself."

"She has an odd way of showing it," Cailin muttered darkly.

"Would you like me to tell you about the family?" Corio asked in an attempt to distract her. When she nodded, he began, "Although our grandfather has sired ten sons, only three live in this village: my father Eppilus, and my uncles Lugotorix and Segovax, they are Bryna's sons. The others, and their families, are scattered about the other hill-fort villages belonging to the hill Dobunni. Our grandfather has five wives."

"I thought he had only four," Cailin interrupted.

"Four living, but he had a total of five. Bryna went to the Isles of the Blest some years back. Then Berikos married a woman named Brigit two years ago. She is not a Dobunni. She is a Catuvellauni. Our grandfather makes a fool of himself over her. She is not much older than you are, Cailin, but she is wicked beyond belief. My grandmother is chief of Berikos's women, but if Brigit decides to oppose Ceara's decisions, Berikos supports Brigit. It is very wrong of him, but it amuses him to encourage her in favor of his other women. Fortunately, Brigit is content to allow my grandmother and Maeve their responsibilities regarding the household. Such is not her forte. She prefers to spend her days in her own house, perfuming and preparing herself for my grandfather's pleasure. When she ventures out, she is accompanied by two serving girls who almost anticipate her every desire. They say she holds our grandfather by means of enchantment and secret potions."

Three tall men, one with dark hair, the other two with hair like Cailin's, came to sit down next to them.

"Mother says you are Kyna's daughter," the dark-haired man said. "Are you our sister's child, my pretty girl? I am Eppilus, the father of this handsome young scamp, and youngest son of Ceara and Berikos."

"Yes, I am the daughter of Kyna and Gaius Drusus. My name is Cailin," she replied quietly.

"I am Lugotorix," said one of the auburn-haired men, "and this is my twin brother, Segovax. We are the sons of Bryna and Berikos."

"My brothers, Titus and Flavius, were also twins," Cailin said, and then to her great mortification, tears began to slide down her face. Desperately she attempted to scrub them away.

The three older men looked away, giving the girl time to compose herself as Corio put a shy arm about his cousin's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. It was almost the undoing of Cailin, but she somehow managed to find humor in her situation. Poor, good Corio was making an attempt to soothe her, while in reality his kindness was close to sending her into a fit of hysterics. She needed to weep and to grieve for her family, but not now. Not here. It would have to be later, when she could find a private place where no one else would see her tears. Cailin drew a deep, calming breath.

"I am all right now," she said, removing Corio's protective arm.

Her three uncles met her steady gaze with admiration, and Eppilus said, "You still wear your bulla, I see."

"I am not married," Cailin told them.

"Inside your bulla there is a small bit of stag's horn, and a flat droplet of amber within which is a perfectly preserved tiny flower," Eppilus told her. "Am I not right, Cailin?"

"How did you know what my amulet contains?" she asked, surprised. "I thought that my mother and I were the only ones to know. Not even my grandmother knows what is within my bulla. It is blessed."

"Aye, but not by any of your phony Roman deities," he replied. "The stag's horn is consecrated to Cernunnos, our god of the Hunt. The amber is a bit of Danu, the Earth Mother, touched by Lugh, the Sun; the flower caught within it signifies fertility, or Macha, who is our goddess of both Life and Death." He smiled at her. "Your mother's brothers sent you this protection before you were even born. I believe it has kept you safe so that you might one day come to us."

"I nevet knew," Cailin said softly. "My mother said little about her life before she wed my father. I think the only way she could not hurt missing the ones she loved was to put them from her entirely."

Eppilus smiled. "How well you knew her, Cailin. Such wisdom in one so young is to be admired. I bid you welcome to your mother's family. I imagine that my father did not. He has never been able to forgive Kyna for marrying Gaius Drusus, and that prideful attitude has cost him so much. He loved your mother greatly, you know. She was his joy."

"Why does he hate Romans, or anything touched by their culture? Few real Romans have been in this land for years now. My father's family has intermarried with Britons for so long that there is little if anything Roman left in us. Only my original ancestor was a pure Roman. His sons married Dobunni girls just as my father did."

"Our father," said Lugotorix, "is a man very much enmeshed in the past. Britain's past. The past glories of the Dobunni. A past that began to fade and change with the arrival centuries ago of the Romans. Our history is not a written one, Cailin Drusus. It is a spoken history, and Berikos can recite that history like a bard. Ceara, who is closest to him in age, remembers Berikos as a young boy. He was always consumed by our people and their past. He knew that he would one day rule us, and he secretly longed to restore the Dobunni to their former glory. When the legions left, Ceara said he wept with joy, but in the years since, little has happened to change Britain.

"Still, he saw the disintegration of the towns built by the Romans, and of the form of government that they left in place here. Vortigern, who calls himself King of the Britons, has never really consolidated the tribes. He is old now, and has no real power over the Dobunni, or any of the other Celts. To Berikos, your mother's marriage to your father was a great betrayal. He had planned to match her with a warrior named Carvilius. Our father hoped that Carvilius would help him regain all the Dobunni territory lost to the Romans over the years, but it was not to be. Kyna loved Gaius Drusus, and our father's dream was shattered."

"I know nothing at all about my mother's people. I will need to learn more if I am to understand," Cailin said slowly. "My grandmother says we cannot go back to my home. She says my cousin, Quintus Drusus, will kill me simply for my father's lands. I must become a Dobunni, Uncles. Is such a thing possible, I wonder?"

"You are Kyna's daughter," Eppilus answered her. "You are already a Dobunni."

I ₁ 1 I

The village in which Cailin now found herself was the main village of the hill Dobunni Celts. It was a hill fort, typical of Celtic villages in Britain. There were fifteen houses within the walls, her grandfather's being the largest. All the dwellings but Berikos's were built of wood, with walls of mud and wattle, and had thatched roofs. The chieftain's house was stone with a thatched roof. There were ten other villages belonging to the hill Dobunni, but each had only eight houses apiece.

While the houses were comfortable, they were a far cry from the villa in which Cailin had been raised. The villa's floors had been made of marble or mosaic. The floor in her grandfather's hall was stone, while in the other Dobunni houses they were hard-packed dirt. The walls in the villa had been plaster, painted and decorated. Cailin had to admit to herself that the mud and wattle walls, while certainly not beautiful, kept out the rain and the cold. That was, after all, the true purpose of a wall. In her father's villa she had her own small bedchamber. In her grandfather's house she shared a comfortable sleeping space with Brenna. It was built into the wall and, Cailin thought, quite cozy.

"You are not at all spoilt," Ceara noted as Cailin shelled peas for her one afternoon. "I would have thought that being raised as you were, with slaves around you, you would know little and complain much."

"I was taught," Cailin told her, "that in the early days of Rome, women-even of the highest social order-were industrious and knowledgeable in the domestic arts. They personally oversaw their households. Although my father's family has lived in Britain for hundreds of years, those values were retained. My mother taught me how to cook, weave, and sew, among other things. I will be a good wife one day, Ceara."