To Love Again

by Bertrice Small

  "She loves me!" Bodvoc exulted, and turned to Corio. "Tell your father that I want Nuala for my wife," he said, then ran off after the fleeing girl.

  The crowd was dispersing. Cailin looked at Corio. "Will she have him?"

  "Nuala has liked Bodvoc for several years, and she's fourteen now. More than old enough to be a wife. It's a good match. He's eighteen, and strong. They'll make beautiful babies, Cailin. Now we must find a husband for you, too, cousin. I don't suppose you would consider me for a mate; would you?" For a small moment an almost hopeful look entered his eyes, and Cailin realized to her surprise that her cousin Corio harbored feelings for her that, if encouraged, could grow into love.

  "Oh, Corio," she said, and touched his arm. "I love you, but my love is like that of a sister for a brother. I do not think it will ever be anything more." She hugged him. "I think at this time in my life I need a friend more than a husband. Be my friend."

  "The most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and she wants to be my friend," said Corio mournfully. "I have surely displeased the gods that they would visit such a burden upon me."

  "You are a rogue, dearest cousin," Cailin laughed, "and I do not feel one bit sorry for you. Your path is strewn with broken hearts."

  That evening Cailin got a little more insight into her Dobunni heritage when her grandfather stood before a huge audience in his hall and recited the history of their Celtic tribe. Next to him a young harper stood playing, his music alternately sweet and wild, depending upon the portion of the tale being recited at the time. Ceara and Maeve bustled about the hall, seeing to the comfort of their guests; but at the high board, Berikos's youngest wife, Brigit, sat proudly on display.

  In the three months she had lived among the Dobunni, Cailin had seen Brigit rarely, and she had never spoken with her. Brigit was beautiful, in a cold way, with her skin as flawless as marble, her icy silver eyes, her black, black hair. She held herself aloof, believing that her aged husband's protection was all she needed.

  "And when he dies, does she wonder what will become of her?" Ceara demanded bitterly one day.

  "She will find another foolish old man," Maeve said matter-of-factly. "No young man would have her, as she obviously lacks a heart. But an old man can be gulled into thinking he will be the envy of all for possessing a fair young wife."

  ***

  In the days that followed the celebration of Lugh, the final harvest was completed. The apples and pears were gathered from the orchards. The fields were plowed once again, and the winter wheat planted. Cailin dug carrots, turnips, and onions for cold storage.

  "Leave the cabbage," Ceara said, "until there is danger of a hard frost. It's better in the garden. But pick all the lentils that are left, child. I want to dry them out and store them myself."

  "Look after Cailin when I am gone," Brenna said to Ceara one afternoon. "Everything she has ever known is gone from her. She is brave, but I have heard her weeping at night in our sleeping space when she thinks I am asleep and cannot hear. Her pain is very great."

  "Why not Maeve?" Ceara asked. "She is your sister."

  "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.

  "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.