We love our families, but we think perhaps we should like to be a little bit away from them. You and Wulf have no one but each other. If we came and lived by you, you would have us, and we would be near enough to the Dobunni villages to have the rest of our family available when we wanted to visit, or if they needed us, or we them. There is more than enough land for us, isn’t there?”
Cailin nodded. “When Anthony Porcius returned my father’s lands to me, he included the river villa that had been given to Quintus Drusus when he came from Rome. You and Bodvoc could have that land. Wulf and I will give it to you as a wedding present! You will have to build your own hall, but the lands are fertile, well-watered, and there is a fine orchard, Nuala. It would be good to have you near.”
“Our children will grow up together,” Nuala said with a smile.
Cailin found her husband and told him what she had done.
“Good!” he said with a smile. “Bodvoc will be a good man to have as a neighbor. We’ll help him to build his home so that by the time their child comes, they will have a place of their own.”
With the sunset, the Beltane fires sprang to life, and the feasting, drinking, and dancing continued. During the day, Cailin had been absorbed with her relatives and the wedding, but now a deep sadness came upon her. Just a year ago her family had been murdered. She wandered among the revelers, and then suddenly found herself by Berikos. Well, she thought, now is as good a time as any to try to make peace with this old reprobate. He was seated on a bench with a back. She sat down upon the ground by his side.
“Once,” she began, “my mother told me of how, when she was a little girl, no one could leap higher across the Beltane fires than you could, Berikos. I think it was the only time I ever heard her speak of you. I believe she missed you, especially at this time of year. I am not like her, am I? Well, I cannot be anyone but who I am.”
Surprised, she felt the old man’s hand fall heavily upon her head, and turning, she looked up at him. A single tear was sliding down his worn face. For a brief moment Cailin felt her anger rising. The old man had no right to do this to her after all his unkindness and cruelty—not just to her, but to Brenna and to Kyna. Then something inside her popped and she felt her anger draining away. She smiled wryly at him.
“We’re alike, Berikos, aren’t we? It isn’t just Brenna that makes me who I am. It is you as well. We are quick with our tongues, and have a surfeit of pride to boot.” She patted her rounded belly. “The gods only know what this great-grandchild of yours will be like.”
He half wheezed, half cackled at her remark. “Guud!” he said.
“Good?” she answered him, and he nodded vigorously, a chuckling noise coming from his throat. “You think so, do you? Well, we shall see after Lugh’s feast if you are right,” Cailin replied with a small smile.
Before Cailin and Wulf departed the next morning, Ceara came to her and said, “You have made Berikos very happy, my child. Your mother would be proud of you and of what you have done. I think it has helped him to make peace with himself, and with Kyna.”
Cailin nodded. “Why not?” she said. “Last night the doors between the worlds were open. Perhaps not as widely as at Samain, but open nonetheless. I felt my mother would want me to be generous toward Berikos. It is strange, is it not, Ceara? Just a few weeks ago Berikos was strong and vital, the lord of his world. Now he is naught but a weak and sad old man. How quickly the gods render their judgment when they decide that the time has come for it.”
“Life is fragile, my child, and appallingly swift, as you will soon find. One day you are filled with the juices of fiery youth and nothing is impossible! Then just as suddenly, you are a dried-up old husk with the same desires, but no will left to accomplish the impossible.” She laughed. “You have a little time yet, I think. Go with your man now.