“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.”