Druids (32 page)

I was certain me time would come. Everywhere I looked, I saw signs and omens.

Being a druid sometimes means knowing things one would rather not know.

Meanwhile, under my direction our vineyards were taking shape. At first my people had been dubious, but as the vines began to grow so did the enthusiasm of those who tended them. We sang songs for the vines and created a dance among the rows. Though

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our first harvest was several summers in the future, men and women began dreaming aloud of the day when work and sacrifice would transmute scraggly vines and dry, thin soil into rubies to fill the cup.

Then news arrived from the perimeters of Gaul that the seeds Dumnorix the Aeduan had planted were bearing bitter fruit.

The Hetvetii had taken a long time to prepare for their planned migration, abandoning their homeland to the Germans while they sought richer pastures. They had planted an excess of grain to be certain of supplying themselves, and had built thousands of new wagons to carry their families and possessions. When they judged they were ready, they burned their twelve towns and four hundred villages, as well as the grain they were unable to carry, so mere would be nothing left behind for the invading Suebi—and so they themselves would have nothing to return to but be forced to go on. They set off on their great migration with sixty thousand wag-ons, one for every six members of the tribe.

Their initial route took them through me tribelands of the Raur-ici, the Tulingi, and the Latovici, whom they persuaded to join them. Even some of the vast Boii tribe were caught up in the migrant fever and joined the search for the horizons. As had been predicted, the chosen route of this ocean of people lay across a part of the Province.

Caesar was in Rome when the Helvetii set out, but as soon as word reached him he sped into free Gaul with a legion at his back

and the Roman eagle flying above him. “His standard-bearers wear lion skins,” eyewitnesses claimed.

Eagle and lion; the symbology was not lost on me. The predators had come to Gaul,

Late into the night I discussed the situation with Tarvos. Since he called in at my lodge every evening, I had begun relying on him to feed Lakutu. She had survived, thanks to Briga, but was recovering very slowly and had no appetite at all. Neither Da-mona nor I could get her to eat; only the Bull seemed to have any success. I thought it an odd talent for a warrior, but I was grateful.

So, as he sat beside Lakutu and patiently urged food upon her, I spoke of the worries uppermost on my mind-Talking to Tarvos helped clarify my own thoughts. Sound is structure and structure is pattern… .

‘ “The Helvetii sent emissaries to Caesar to assure him they only wanted to pass through the Province and intended no harm, but he did not believe them,” I told Tarvos. He had just taken a gobbet of Damona’s cooked meat and begun chewing it to a soft paste,

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which he would then offer to Lakutu on his fingers. I marveled at his patience.

Around his mouthful of meat, Tarvos said, “I wouldn’t have believed them, either. He knew they would live off the land to a large extent; so many people would have stripped any region they passed through.”

I nodded- ‘ ‘Caesar understood that. He told the envoys he must have time to consider their request, then used that time to bring up reinforcements from the Province. When the Helvetian emissaries returned to Caesar, he told them their request for passage was denied. In great anger, the Helvetii tried to break through the defenses he had thrown up against them but they were repulsed, and many women and children were slain. The only way left open to them was through the land of the Sequani; they never succeeded in getting anywhere near the borders of the Province.

“So I am told (hey went to Dumnorix the Aeduan and demanded of him, as the original cause of the problem, that he persuade the Sequanians to let them pass. His wife is of the Sequani; that’s how mis unfortunate situation appears to have begun. When the Suebi overran the Sequani, Dumnorix met with the Suebian leaders and agreed to hire mercenaries from mem to placate them so they would do less damage to his wife’s people.”

Tarvos held out his fingers and Lakutu sucked the chewed meat paste from them. “Appeasement dees more damage than less,” he remarked. “I’ve heard you say that, Ainvar.”

“Here we see it proven,” I told him.

“What did Caesar do after turning back the Helvetii?”

“More swiftly than one would have thought possible, he raised

additional legions from Latium and has begun bringing them into free Gaul. Meanwhile, the migrants have reportedly crossed the Sequani tribeland and gone on into the territory of the Aedui, where they have begun serious pillaging.

“Just this morning I learned that Diviciacus, the Aeduan chief judge, has sent an earnest request for aid to Caesar.”

The Bull used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe Lakutu’s chin. Her large brown eyes never left his face. “That’s what you expected, isn’t it? Caesar invited ever deeper into Gaul? Does Vercingetorix know?”

“That’s how I heard of it-Messengers from him arrived this morning; he keeps me informed. His territory is nearest that of the Aedui, of course, and he has allies among the Boii who tell him everything.”

“Ah, yes, I met the messengers arriving just as I was going on

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sentry duty. I sent for a horseboy to take their exhausted animals, in fact.” Tarvos offered another bit of food to Lakutu, who obviously did not want it but took it to please him. She must be lonely during the days, I thought. I was far too busy to spare any time for her, or even for myself. What little personal life the chief druid of the Carnutes possessed consisted of occasional brief glimpses of Briga as she accompanied Suits on her rounds.

When we met, Briga would not look at me.

Lughnasa, celebration of the harvest, was upon us almost be-fore we were ready. Sunseason had been good to us, me crops were abundant and the new wives had swelling bellies. As we prepared for the festival to thank the sun and conclude the growing-tune, I avidly followed the news of Caesar’s Helvetian campaign through a constant stream of messengers, visitors, and rumors shouted on the wind.

Caesar had brought wave upon wave of warriors northward to defend the Aedui—at least those that were loyal to his ally Diviciacus—from the plundering migrants. The Heivetii were actually fine warriors themselves; had they chosen to stay in their homeland and fight, they might well have defeated the Suebi. But their greed for new lands had betrayed them. Now they were trapped with no land of their own, and Caesar’s armies were everywhere they turned. They fought heroically, but in the end they were no match for the Romans.

I was not surprised when the shout came up me river: “The Heivetii are broken! They flee in panic!”

I went to see Sulis. “I need your professional opinion, healer. If something should happen to Tasgetius, is it possible Nantorus might resume the kingship? How permanent is his disability?”

She looked doubtful. “Very, I should say. But I can go to him if you wish and see what can be done.’ *

“Do so. Use every skill at your disposal, and take with you as many other healers as you can summon.”

“There is a shortage of us, as ofalldruids… .”

“I know that!” I snapped. “Just do your best for Nantorus. I don’t want the tribe to face what is coming under the chieftaincy of a man like Tasgetius.”

“If I’m to take other healers with me, what of Briga?” she asked innocently. I sensed the mocking laughter hidden in her words, however.

“Leave her with me. It’s time her training was expanded to other areas than herbs and potions. She must be instructed in

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every aspect of the Order or she will never folly understand us and be able to overcome her fear.”

“And you’re the best person to instruct her, of course,” Sulis said. This time the hidden sound was sarcasm.

lignorcdit. “Of course. I am chief druid.”

“She may not find that sufficient reason to sit at your feet, Ainvar.”

“Then you must convince her. Remind her she’s gone too far to turn back now.”

“That,” drawled Sulis, “is not an argument that’s likely to succeed with a woman. We are more flexible in our heads than men,” she added smugly.

“Then tell her you want her to serve as healer here in the fort in your absence! She is capable of caring for the ordinary sort of sickness or injury, isn’t she?”

“She is. I’ve been working with her all summer and I am an excellent teacher.”

“Good. Once she has accepted the idea of being our substitute healer, then remind her that will entail working closely with the chief druid.”

The comers of Sulis’s lips twitched. “Put that way, how can she refuse? She will be too flattered at the idea of serving in my stead; our little Briga is proud, Ainvar.”

“I know.”

Briga came to me when I finished singing the song for the sun the day after Sulis left for Cenabum, and Nantorus. I had just turned from the singing when I realized she was standing almost in my shadow, with her face closed and her thoughts hidden be-hind her eyes. “Sulis said I should come to you.” She sounded very formal, as if it were our first meeting.

Matching her tone, I replied, “I can teach you things that will make you a better healer.”

In that hoarse tittle voice which I found so curiously endearing, she said simply, “If you must.”

We both knew she was trapped-By her own act she had made herself part of the druid network. I could appreciate the irony if she could not.

One could never know what to expect of Briga; I must plan my strategy with her as cleverly as Caesar ever planned any of his campaigns.

He was at that moment regrouping after a decisive battle against the Heivetii near Bibracte, which had left, of all the ocean of migrants, only 130,000 still living. While the blood was still wet

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on his weapons, he was turning his attention toward Ariovistus the Suebian.

Caesar had no intention of withdrawing from free Gaul after winning only one war. He had not yet even skimmed the cream from the prosperity of the Celtic tribes in their rich and fertile homelands.

Diviciacus encouraged him. According to Rix’s Boii spies, the Aeduan vergobret complained to Caesar that soon all free Gauls would be driven from their homelands by the Germanic tribes. He accused Ariovistus of being a cruel, arrogant tyrant, a Greek term he had no doubt learned in his druidical studies. The Aedui were totally divided between those who followed Dumnorix and those who agreed with Diviciacus; a once mighty tribe was thus halved and weakened.

If I allowed my opposition to Tasgetius to become public knowledge, the same thing could happen to the Camutes. The tribe could be torn apart between king and druid. So I must re-main personally silent, trusting my work to go on in the darkness, like roots spreading underground, until Tasgetius was replaced with a king we could trust.

The desperate dangers of division were becoming more evident.

A number of Gaulish kings formed a delegation to visit Caesar personally and congratulate him on his victory over the Helvetii. I was disgusted, but glad to hear that Rix was not one of their number, though I would not have expected it of him.

Tasgetius went, of course.

That autumn I took Briga into the woods and began teaching her, as Menua had once taught me, to see the beauty underlying the apparent harshness of existence.

Suits had taught her the basic skills. She could make poultices of bran and tar for inflamed joints, she could prepare decoctions

of parsley roots and seeds to help expel bladder stones. She knew which illnesses were provoked by the swelling of the moon and which were diminished by its shrinking. With my own eyes I saw her squeeze a sheep’s kidney from its membrane so the covering was left intact, then moisten this with cream and saliva and apply it to an old man’s suppurating leg ulcer. The ulcer healed, and I was proud of her.

I taught her other things. I remember her sitting cross-legged in the grove, chewing on her fingernails while a stray beam of sunlight found gold in her hair. I had found a seed already locked in sleep, waiting for the distant spring; I held it in the palm of my

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hand and told her to watch. Then I closed my eyes and concentrated.

When the sweat began running down my forehead, Briga gasped. I opened my eyes. The seed’s shell had split open, revealing an infinitesimal pale shoot inside. It uncoiled so slowly we could hardly see movement, but the shell kept opening wider until at last the tiny being lifted into the light.

Briga’s eyes were enormous. “How did you do that?” she asked in an awed whisper.

I smiled. As I had anticipated, the magic had broken through her own shell of reserve. “You could do it, too,” I told her. “There is life in you and life in the seed. When one calls out strongly enough to the other, there must be a response. Would you like me to show you how?”

She clapped her hands together like a child. “Yes!”

We spent the day there. I wanted to teach her everything at once: how to hear rainbows and see music and smell colors.

I wanted to run my hands through her sunscented hair.

But restraint is expected of a chief druid, so I devoted myself to instruction that was also seduction. My purpose was the seduction of Briga’s spirit, and to that end I showed her the lightest and brightest of druid abilities. I made water sing for her and called out-of-season butterflies to dance in her hands.

She laughed-1 made her laugh. I recited riddles, secrets hidden within secrets like the whorts of a spiral, and she showed me the pads of her fingertips with the same whoris on them, understanding.

I never touched her. Yet we found ourselves touching on some level of awareness where we conversed wordlessly in a language no one else knew.

I never touched her. The next time she must reach for me. There has to be a balance.

But sometimes it is very hard.

Briga was only mine ui the daytime, and even then there were beginning to be other contenders for my attention. Having a young, vigorous chief druid was stimulating new life in the Order. Parents began bringing gifted youngsters to the grove once more, asking me to test and teach them.