To Love Again

come here. She would not even allow me to inform the authorities, or wait for the slaves to return from their holiday.'

'Berikos!' Brenna's voice rasped harshly. ' I must speak with Berikos!' She struggled to rise from the bench where she lay.

'You must lie quietly, Brenna,' Ceara told her. 'I will send for Berikos, but if you persist in this behavior, you will not live to tell him whatever it is you must tell him. Rest now.'

'Ceara! What is this I hear? Brenna has returned?' Another woman, not quite as tall as Ceara, but taller than Cailin, joined them. She had the prettiest, sweetest face that Cailin could ever remember having seen. There was something familiar about it, and yet Cailin could not place it. That face was now puckered with distress as she bent over the half-conscious woman. Her blue eyes filled with tears. 'Brenna! It really is you! Ohh, I never thought to see you again!'

'Maeve,' Brenna said softly, but Cailin heard the affection in her grandmother's tone. 'You are still a fool, I see.'

Maeve bent down and kissed the injured woman's brow. 'And you are still stubborn and filled with pride, my sister.'

'Sister?' Cailin looked at Ceara.

'Maeve is your grandmother's younger sister. Did you not know that, child? No, I see you did not.'

'Why does Grandmother call her a fool?' Cailin wondered, realizing that Maeve's familiar face was a slightly younger version of Brenna's.

'Your grandmother and Berikos were not a good match,' Ceara said honestly. 'They married in haste born of their overwhelming lust for each other. By the time they realized it, your grandmother was with child. Several years later your grandfather found himself truly in love with Maeve, and she with him. Brenna was appalled. She feared history would repeat itself, and she adored her sister, who is five years younger. She pleaded with Maeve not to wed Berikos, but Maeve refused to listen. Brenna called her a fool, and has referred to her as such ever since, despite the fact the marriage between Maeve and Berikos was a successful one.' Ceara turned to the other woman. 'Go and fetch Berikos, Maeve. He is at her house.'

Corio returned with his grandmother's medicine basket, and Ceara began the task of examining Brenna's wound. She cut away some of Brenna's thick white hair, shaking her head at the size of the wound. This was far more serious than anything she had ever seen. Brenna's hair was severely matted with all the blood she had lost. The skull bone itself was open and had a large chip missing from it. Ceara wasn't even certain she could close the wound. Nature would have to do the job. As gently as she could, she cleaned the wound with wine, wincing when Brenna groaned. She sprinkled one of her healing powders generously over it, and then bandaged it with clean, dried moss. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life.

The girl had stood by her side, handing her what she needed, and never flinching once. Her presence seemed to soothe Brenna. Frankly, Ceara thought that only rest, time, and the will of the gods could make a difference now.

Corio had gone from the hall for a time and now returned, a small bowl in his hand. He gave it to his grandmother. 'I thought that perhaps you would want this for Brenna,' he said.

She smiled up at him approvingly. 'Aye, 'tis just the thing. Here, Brenna, drink this. It will give you strength. Help her to sit up a bit, Cailin,' Ceara ordered.

Cailin sat on the bench behind her grandmother and gently propped the older woman up. 'What is she drinking?' she asked, noting that Brenna sipped the reddish liquid almost eagerly. 'It is cattle's blood,' Ceara answered. 'It is nourishing, and will help Brenna to rebuild her own blood.' Ceara held back a smile at Cailin's look of distaste. At least the girl hadn't fainted.

'Ceara!' A deep voice thundered. 'What is going on? Is what Maeve tells me true?'

Cailin looked up. A tall man with snow-white hair and matching twin mustaches had entered the hall. He was garbed in a dark green wool tunic embroidered with gold threads at the neck and sleeves. Around his neck was the most magnificent gold torque, worked with green enamel, that Cailin had ever seen. He strode directly up to the bench where Brenna lay and looked down.

'Hail, Berikos,' Brenna said mockingly.

'So, you are back,' Berikos said grimly. 'To what do we owe this honor, Brenna? I thought never to see you again.'

'Nor I you. You have grown old, Berikos,' Brenna said. 'I should not be here at all were it not for Cailin. I would have died in the forest safe in Nodens' care rather than come to you, were it not for our grandchild. I am here for her, Berikos, not for myself.'

'We have no grandchild in common,' he answered.

'Berikos!' Ceara's voice was sharp. 'Do not persist in your stubborn folly over this matter. Kyna is dead.'

A sharp look of sorrow swept over the old man's face and then was gone. 'How?' he demanded, his voice impersonal, the pain forced back to where none could see it.

'Last night,' Brenna began, 'I went with Cailin to the Beltane fire, but I grew tired and returned home early. In the atrium of the villa I stumbled over the dead body of our son-in-law, Gaius Drusus. I ran to Kyna's bedchamber. She was dead upon her bed, ravaged and beaten to death. I never even felt the blow that felled me. When I regained my senses, I saw the bodies of Gaius and our two grandsons, Titus and Flavius, near me. The murderers were waiting for Cailin.'

'Quintus Drusus!' Cailin cried, her face as white as milk.

'Aye, child, your voice within did not fail you.' Brenna looked to Berikos and continued her horrific tale.

'What of your vaunted Roman magistrate at Corinium?' Berikos asked her scathingly when she had finished. 'Is there no longer any Roman justice?'

'The chief magistrate in Corinium is Quintus Drusus's father-in-law,' Brenna said. 'What chance would Cailin have against him?'

'What is it you want of me, then, Brenna?'

'I want your protection, Berikos, though it galls me to ask it. I want your protection for Cailin, and for me. The slaves were still away from the villa when all of this happened. No one knows that we two alone have survived, nor must they ever know. Cailin is your granddaughter, and you cannot refuse me this request. I do not know if I will survive this attack. I am wounded, and my lungs yet ache with the smoke I inhaled. It took all my strength to bring Cailin here to you.'

Berikos was grimly silent.

'You will both have the protection of the tribe,' Ceara said finally. When her husband glared at her, she said, 'Brenna is still your wife, Berikos; the mother of your only daughter. Cailin is your granddaughter. Blood! You cannot refuse them shelter or protection under our laws, or have you forgotten those laws in your ancient lust for Brigit?'

'I will accept your hospitality only as long as my grandmother lives,' Cailin said angrily. 'When she has passed through the door of Death into the next life, I will make my own way in the world. I do not know you, Berikos of the Dobunni, and I do not need you'

A small winterly smile touched the corners of the old man's lips. With cold blue eyes he observed Cailin seriously for the first time since he had entered the hall. 'Brave words, little mongrel bitch,' he said, 'but I wonder how well your soft Roman ways have prepared you for survival in this hard world.'

'I am not afraid,' Cailin told him defiantly, 'and I am able to learn. I would also remind you that I am a Briton,