"And Brigit will be seeking some sort of revenge," Maeve fretted. "She is not used to being insulted in public, nor is she used to having Berikos not come to her defense at the merest slight."

That evening, Ceara kept Cailin busy helping with the Samain feast. Brigit, in the place of honor by her husband's side, had dressed herself with special care. Her scarlet tunic dress was embroidered with gold at the neck and sleeves. About her slender neck was a delicate gold torque, filigreed and inlaid with red enamel. Pearls hung from her ears, and she wore her long black hair unbound, held only with a gold-and-pearl band about her high forehead.

She watched her enemy and contemplated her vengeance. Nothing she had thought of so far was quite right. The time was obviously not right now, but when it came, she would certainly know it. In the meantime she would bind Berikos even closer to her so he would acquiesce to whatever she desired when the moment for her revenge was at hand.

Berikos, in an effort to mend fences with his young wife, told her, "I will share a secret with you, Brigit." He leaned close to her, and his head spun with the intoxicating fragrance she wore.

"Tell me," she said, her red lips pouting seductively, "and then I shall tell you a secret in return, my dear lord."

"I have sent to the Saxons for a warrior to come and teach our men what they have forgotten about fighting. If all goes as I hope it will, we may begin taking back the Dobunni lands stolen by the Romans next summer. With the legions long gone and certain not to return, all that are left of the Romans are farmers and fat merchants. We will destroy them. They think the Celtic tribes have grown into lap dogs, but we will show them otherwise, Brigit. We will regain what is ours with sword and fire! Our success will encourage the others to take their lands back as well. Britain will be ours once more. It will be like the old days, my beauty. Now, what have you to tell me?"

"Do you remember the Gypsies that came on Lugh? Well, one of my serving women learned a secret from them that will give you pleasure such as you have never dreamed of, my lord." Her voice was breathy, and his heart beat faster with his excitement. "It has taken me all this time to learn the technique to perfection, but I have finally mastered it. Tonight, I shall show you. Do not drink to excess, Berikos, or my efforts will be wasted upon you." She licked her lips suggestively.

He shoved his goblet aside. "Let us go now," he said.

"But if you leave," she protested faintly, "the feasting must be done. It is early yet, Berikos. Let us wait a bit longer, I beg you."

"The Samain fires are long burned out," he replied. "My fire for you, however, blazes hot, Brigit, my wife."

"Bank your fire for a little time, my lord." She smiled winningly. "Will it all not be the better for the waiting?" She kissed him hard on his lips.

"As my granddaughter so forcefully reminded me this afternoon," Berikos said grimly, "I am no longer a young man." He stood up, pulling Brigit with him. "Come! The night grows older as quickly as do I."

They left the hall, and Ceara smiled bitterly. "Brigit reminds us once again that it is she who guides the old stallion leading this herd."

"I wonder what she did to get him to go so early?" Maeve said.

"Some suggestion of lustful games, you may be sure," Ceara said. "He always had a large appetite for women's flesh. His appetite is obviously still large, but can it overcome his age?"

"You sound jealous," Maeve said, astounded.

"Aren't you?" Ceara replied. "I may be considered an old woman by virtue of my years, but why should my desires not rise as hot as Berikos's desires? I would not mind if he visited my bed now and then. He was always a good lover."

"Aye," Maeve agreed, "he was. Now that we are older, no one admires us, or asks Berikos's permission to share our beds. It is lonely."

"Remember when we were younger," Ceara said, "Berikos was so proud of how other men desired his wives when they came to visit. It always gave him great pleasure to extend his hospitality to our beds. And he had his share of the visiting women as well. Do you remember the time when those three chiefs of neighboring tribes arrived to discuss an alliance, and they admired us?"

Maeve laughed at the memory. "Aye! They had come alone so others would not know of their coming. Berikos was forced to parcel us out, and then he was left without a bedmate that night. Brenna was almost ready to have Kyna, and so she could not be with him. The only other women available were all related to him. Ohh, it seems so long ago!"

"It was," Ceara said. "The old ways are dying, and men are not so ready to share their women now as they were then. It is too bad, isn't it? The right precautions kept one safe from unwanted pregnancy, but a child from an honorable man was considered a blessing. I must admit to enjoying the variety offered on those rare occasions."


***

The days were growing shorter with the approach of winter. The sun did not rise until late, and set by what would have been mid-afternoon in the summer. Ceara and Maeve decided to visit their sons and grandchildren in two of the other villages before the snows set in. As they would be going to the village where Bodvoc lived with his family, Nuala decided to accompany her grandmother.

"You just want to go so you can share a bed space with him," Cailin teased her cousin. "You are sure to have a big belly by the time you two are wed on Beltane next." Beltane was a traditional time for weddings among the Celtic tribes.

"If I have a big belly when we are finally married, no one would be more pleased than Bodvoc and his family. It would show them I am a fertile field, and that Bodvoc's seed is strong. There is no shame in it among our peoples, Cailin. Is it not the same for the Britons, then? Your blood is so intermingled that I thought you would follow many of the same customs as do the Dobunni."

"We follow many customs belonging to the Celtic peoples, Nuala," Cailin said, "but among the Romans, a maiden goes to her marriage bed a virgin. That custom seems to have continued among the Britons."

"What a pity," Nuala remarked. "How can you please your husband if you know nothing of what is involved in lovemaking?" Then her blue eyes grew wide with sudden awareness. "You have never been with a man, Cailin, have you?" she said in shocked tones. "Not even Corio? Ohh, when I return from visiting Bodvoc, I shall have to remedy this gap in your education, dear cousin. It is all very well to be able to read, but a woman must know far more than that to please a man in bed."

"I don't think I want a man in my bed just yet," Cailin ventured.

"You are going to be sixteen in the spring, cousin," Nuala said. "I will teach you everything you need to know, and then we will find a nice man for you to practice on. Bodvoc would be perfect!"


"But you are to marry Bodvoc!" Cailin squeaked nervously.

"I'm not jealous. After all, you don't love him. He's a marvelous lover, Cailin. Just perfect for a first experience! I'm certain he would be happy to oblige us in this matter."

"I do not know if I can do such a thing, Nuala. I have not grown up as freely as you have. These are not my ways," Cailin said.

"We do not hold that lovemaking between two consenting parties is wrong, Cailin," Nuala explained. "There is nothing evil about giving and receiving pleasure. Your mother was certainly no virgin when she wed your father." She patted her obviously distressed relative. "We will speak on this when I return from my visit to Carvilius's village."

Cailin's mother had never told her these things. Brenna had never told her these things. While many girls her age and younger had spoken of the mysterious ways of love, Cailin had never been particularly curious about it. There had been no man who attracted her enough to rouse her interest. While she had grown in height and breadth, and her chest had sprouted round little breasts two years ago, she had never considered life as a grown woman one day. Now it appeared that she must.

Ceara and Maeve were hardly subtle in their quest for a husband for her. Their reasoning was sound. She needed a protector. Berikos barely tolerated her, and given the chance, would have been rid of her by now. She no longer had any family. Oh, Ceara and Maeve looked after her, but what would happen to her when they were not here?

"Stay away from your grandfather while we are gone," Ceara warned Cailin in the morning of her departure. "Brigit has yet to attempt any revenge against you, but she will try, particularly if there is no one here to defend you. Are you sure you do not want to come with us, my child? You would be most welcome."

Cailin shook her head. "You are good to ask me, but I need to be alone with myself, and my thoughts. There has been no time for that since I came here. I will keep from Berikos's sight, I promise you, Ceara. I do not want him to disown me as he did my mother. At least she had my father to go to, but I have no one."


"Be certain the slaves have his meals prepared on time, and that they are hot. You will have no trouble with him then. His stomach, and his manroot, are the center of his life these days. You take care of the stomach, and Brigit will see to the other," Ceara told her wryly.

Cailin laughed. "If Berikos heard you, he would say it sounded like Brenna talking, I am certain. Do not fear, I will oversee the slaves properly."

For two days all went well, and then in mid-morning of the third day, Brigit came into the hall, looking agitated. "Where is Ceara?" she demanded of Cailin, who was alone at her loom, weaving.

"Gone two days ago to visit her sons," Cailin answered politely. "Did you not know it, lady?"

"Know? How could I know? Who tells me anything?" Brigit complained. "Then Maeve! Find Maeve!" she demanded excitedly.

"Maeve has gone visiting as well," Cailin replied.

"The gods! What am I to do?" Brigit cried.

Cailin swallowed hard. Brigit seemed genuinely disturbed, and although they were scarcely friends, Cailin heard herself ask, "Can I help you in some way, lady?"

Brigit's blue eyes narrowed and she observed Cailin thoughtfully. "Can you cook?" she finally said. "Can you prepare a small feast for tonight? Berikos has an important guest arriving. We must extend him our best hospitality." She flushed, and then admitted, "I cannot cook, at least not well enough to prepare the kind of meal that must be served."

"I am a good cook, and with the slaves to do my bidding, I can prepare a meal worthy of an important guest, lady," Cailin told her.

"Then do it!" Brigit commanded her ungraciously. "And it had better be good, mongrel, or this time I will see your grandfather has you beaten for your insolence. There is no one here to defend you now." She turned and hurried from the hall, her yellow skirts thrashing.

"I should have gone with Ceara and Maeve," Cailin muttered. "Then she would have been in the soup, and what would Berikos have thought of his beautiful young wife then, the ungrateful bitch! Well, I shall do it because Ceara would want me to, and she is good to me."

Cailin hurried off to the cook house, which was located just behind the hall. There she instructed the servants in the preparation of a thick pottage with lentils and lamb, while upon the open spit a side of beef was to be slowly roasted. There would be cabbage, and turnip, and onions braised in the coals of the fire. Fresh loaves were baked that afternoon, which would be served with butter and cheese. Cailin polished a dozen apples to a bright shine and piled them artistically in a burnished brass bowl. Taking them into the hall to place them upon the high board she complimented the young slave girl who had just finished polishing the board with beeswax. The huge table was Ceara's pride and joy. She reveled in the fact that in other halls the high boards were worn and pockmarked by knives and goblets. In her hall, the high board glowed and shone like new.

The slave girl brought heavy brass candle holders. "The mistress always uses these for important guests," she told Cailin.

Cailin thanked her and set them on the table, taking the large fat candles from the serving wench and placing them carefully on the iron spikes that held them. She stood back and smiled to herself. The high board looked as if Ceara had set it herself. Berikos would have no cause for complaint.

It was then that Cailin realized that someone was staring at her. She turned and, looking down the hall, saw a great, tall man standing there. His look, even from a distance, was bold.