To Love Again

'Maeve is ever a fool over Berikos,' Brenna said, 'and besides, Cailin has taken to you, Ceara. She will give Maeve honor, but it is you she trusts and is learning to love. Promise me you will look after her, dear old friend. My time is growing shorter with every passing hour, but I cannot go easily unless I know Cailin has a friend and a protector in you.'

'When you have passed through the door,' Ceara promised her, 'I will watch over Cailin as I would one of my own granddaughters. I swear by Lugh, Danu, and Macha. You may rest easy in my word.'

'I know I can,' Brenna said, her relief obvious.

Brenna died on the eve of Samain, six months after incurring her injuries. She went quickly to sleep, but did not awaken the following morning. Cailin, in the company of Ceara and Maeve, washed the body and dressed it for burial. As refugees, Cailin and her grandmother had possessed little, but decorated pots, bronze vessels for food and drink, small bits of jewelry, furs, cloth, and other things considered necessary to a woman began to appear by the body in order that she be buried properly, as befitted a Dobunni chieftain's wife.

Brenna was interred several hours before sunset, when the Samain feasting would begin. The harper played a liltingly sad tune as the mourners followed the body. Berikos accompanied his estranged wife to her final resting place along with the rest of the family. Even Brigit was among the official mourners. As always, she sought to divert the focus of Berikos's attention to herself.

'Could she not have waited until the new year was begun before dying?' she whined at her husband.

'It seems appropriate to me that Brenna chose this last day of the year to end her existence here and walk through the door,' Berikos answered his wife sharply.

'There will be a pall over the feasting tonight,' Brigit said.

Ceara saw it coming, but she was powerless to stop it.

Cailin turned and placed herself directly in front of Brigit, making it impossible for her to move forward. 'How dare you speak with such disrespect at my grandmother's funeral?' she demanded. 'Is this how the Catuvellauni raise their daughters to behave? My grandmother was a woman of virtue and kindness. She was held in esteem by all who knew her. All you care about is yourself and your selfish needs!'

'Who is this… this girl?' Brigit said angrily to her husband.

'My granddaughter, Cailin,' he said. 'Brenna's grandchild.'

'Ohh, the mongrel bitch,' Brigit sneered, and there were gasps.

'I am no mongrel,' Cailin said proudly. 'I am a Briton. Do not think your blood so pure, Brigit of the Catuvellauni. The legions, I am told, plowed many a furrow amongst the women of your tribe. Your Roman nose gives you away. I am surprised my grandfather did not notice it, but he is so overcome with his lust for you that he sees nothing except a pair of full breasts and firm buttocks.'

'Are you going to let her speak to me that way, Berikos?' Brigit demanded, her cheeks red with her outrage.

'She is right, Brigit. You are disrespectful of the dead, and I am overcome with my lust for you,' Berikos replied with some humor.

'She should be beaten!' Brigit insisted.

'Are you brave enough to try, Catuvellauni woman?' Cailin retorted. 'No, you are not! You hide behind my grandfather's authority, and snivel at him when you do not get your own way. We all know you for what you are-the plaything of a foolish old man whose lust has made him a laughingstock. What will you do when Berikos walks through the door himself, Brigit of the Catuvellauni? Will you seek out another old man to entice with your youth and your pretty face? You will not be young forever!'

Berikos's face now darkened with anger. 'Be silent, Cailin!' he ordered her. 'I thought that we had come to bury Brenna this day, but I hear her voice coming from your mouth, excoriating me as she was ever wont to do. You speak of respect, but where is your respect for Brenna that you would disrupt her burial in such a manner? Now, be quiet, girl! I do not want to hear another word from your mouth this day.'

Cailin glared at him defiantly, but she said nothing more. Brigit, however, burst into tears and ran from them, her two serving women chasing in her wake.

Berikos groaned. 'The gods only know what that will cost me,' he grumbled to Ceara and Maeve. 'Perhaps I should beat the girl.'

'Cailin's anger is but a reflection of her pain, Berikos,' Ceara said wisely. 'Remember that only six moon spans ago her entire family was cruelly wiped out by treachery. Only Brenna survived, and Cailin lived for Brenna. She has nursed her devotedly.'

'My sister was all Cailin believed she had left,' Maeve chimed in. 'Now Brenna is gone, too. Cailin is overwhelmed with her loneliness. Kyna was a good wife and mother. Her family was a close one.'

'Aye,' Ceara said. 'Think, Berikos. How would you feel if everyone you loved and held dear was no longer here, and you were the only one left? Cailin will never be able to replace those she has lost, but we must help her to make peace with herself and begin a new life.'

'The girl has to learn to hold her tongue,' Berikos replied, his ego still stinging at his granddaughter's harsh words. 'You had best teach her some Dobunni manners. The next time I will beat her,' he threatened. He looked over to where the grieving girl now stood, some distance from them, by Brenna's grave. Then Berikos walked away from his two wives, heading to his hall, where the Samain feasting would soon start.

Ceara shook her head in despair. 'They are so alike,' she said. 'Cailin may be outspoken like Brenna, but she is every bit as stubborn as Berikos. They will clash again you may be certain.'

'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.