Lady of Avalon (33 page)

“He might strike for it directly,” he continued, “but a landing would be difficult if the city is defended. Constantius might try instead to land on Tanatus and march across Cantium; however, he knows the southeast supports me strongly. If I were in his place, I would try a two-pronged attack and land the second force elsewhere, perhaps between here and Clausentum. Allectus’ subsidiary mint is here, and it would be wise to seize it as soon as possible.”

As he spoke he moved the colored counters around the map, and for a moment Dierna saw, as if she were gazing into the sacred well, soldiers marching across the land. She shook her head to rid it of the fancy, and focused on the map once more.

“And you are mustering your defenses?”

“Allectus holds Londinium,” he replied. “I have stripped the garrisons on the Wall to the bone, and those forces are marching south to reinforce her garrison. I will put more men here, and in Venta as well. We must base our defenses on the cities. Except for the naval fortresses, we have no forces in the south. Since the time of Claudius, the fighting has all been on the coasts and the northern border, and there has been no need. You could help me, if you would, by going to Durnovaria and asking Prince Eiddin Mynoc if he will raise a war band from among his young men.”

“But Teleri-”

“Teleri has left me,” he said flatly, confirming her fears. “I ask no condolences. You know better than any that our marriage was only the symbol of an alliance. She never wanted me, and I never really had the time to try and win her. I wish I could have made her happy, but I would not hold her against her will. Yet I still need the alliance, and I cannot ask her to plead for me.”

His face had that complete absence of emotion that masks deep pain. Dierna bit her lip, knowing better than to insult him with sympathy. She had arranged the marriage, as she thought, for the good of all, but the result had been to hurt the girl she loved as a sister and the man whom she-respected? Could respect account for the way she felt now? She told herself that her own feelings did not matter. There was too much to do.

“I will go, of course,” she said slowly, wondering if Teleri would be willing to talk to her now. “But I would feel better,” she added, “if you put someone else in command of Londinium.” She was not quite sure what was bothering her-was it something Allectus had said at Corinium?

“A more experienced officer?” asked Carausius. “Allectus knows enough to be guided in military matters by the commander of the garrison. It is the civilian population which must support our cause, and Allectus is on excellent terms with every merchant in Londinium. He will be able to persuade them if anyone can. I trust him all the more just because he is not regular Army. An officer of long service, faced with Caesar’s legionaries, might remember that his first oath was to Diocletian. But I am certain that Allectus will never willingly give Britannia back to Roman rule.”

“You are right,” Dierna said, thinking of royal bloodlines, “but is he as loyal to you as he is to this land?”

Carausius straightened, looking at her, and she stilled, aware of a sudden tension between them.

“Why,” he asked tiredly, “should that matter to you?”

Dierna stood silent, unable to answer him.

“You didn’t want an emperor for Britannia, you wanted a Sacred King,” he went on. “You called me to this isle by your magic and gave me a royal bride; you persuaded me to forsake my oath of allegiance and my own land. But Allectus belongs here.
He
will never disgust you by wearing the garments of a barbarian…”

He too was remembering how they had argued in Corinium. The sadness in his smile wrenched her heart, but in the next moment she recognized in his eyes not only pain but pride.

“I may be barbarian born, my Lady, but I am not stupid. Do you think I did not understand that I was only your tool for the defense of Britannia? But a tool can break, and when it does, the craftsman takes up another. Can you face me and say that you will cease trying to free this land from Rome if I should fall?”

Dierna felt her own eyes sting unexpectedly with tears, but she could not look away. His patience demanded an answer.

“No…” she whispered at last, “but that is because it is the Goddess who wields the tools, and I also am in Her hand…”

“Then why do you weep?” He took a step toward her. “Dierna! If we are equally bound, then will you just this once cease trying to manipulate everyone according to your own notions of duty and give truth to me?”

The truth…,
she thought desperately.
Do I even know it? Or is duty all I can allow myself to see?
“I weep,” she said at last, “because I love you.”

For a moment Carausius was completely still. She saw the tension go out of him, and his head bowed.

“Love…” He whispered it as if he had never before heard the word.

And why should he love me?
she wondered then.

“It makes no difference,” Dierna said quickly. “You asked and I answered.”

“You are the High Priestess of Avalon, as holy as one of the Vestals in Rome.” He looked up at her, and she flinched from the intensity of emotion suddenly revealed. She had no right to expect love from him, but she did not think she could bear his hatred. “To say that what you feel means nothing demeans you, and me.” Carausius continued to stare at her, as if her features were a book written in some strange language that he was trying to read.

“I did not speak as High Priestess, but as a woman…” she whispered. Her eyes again filled with tears.

“And it has been a long time since she was allowed to feel?” he asked with a ghost of humor. “The Emperor of Britannia might say the same.”

To her blurred vision, his features seemed to alter. She had seen them before, when he and she sought visions in the silver bowl upon the Tor. With a sudden conviction she thought,
I have loved this man before.

Carausius straightened. Slowly the aura of power that always made him seem the biggest man in any room returned. It was not the power of the Emperor he had become that she recognized, but the aura of the King. He had been right, she thought, in identifying what she wanted for Britannia. But the Sacred King she sought was not Allectus but himself. He strode to the door and said something to the guard outside. Then he closed it firmly and turned back to her.

“Dierna…” He spoke her name once more.

Her heart began to pound, but it seemed the power of voluntary motion had abandoned her. Carausius gripped her shoulders and bent to kiss her as a thirsty man bends to a pool of water. She sighed, her eyes closing, and as he felt her yield he pulled her hard against him. Dierna trembled, suddenly achingly aware of everything he was feeling, because his need was her own. And in that moment she did not care whether he was king or emperor, or only a man.

After a time her released her, fumbling for the fastenings of her gown. Dierna could not protest: her hands were as eager on his body as his upon her own. The small part of her mind not yet overwhelmed by passion observed in amusement that she was as clumsy as a virgin. Indeed, she had never known a man except in the ceremonial joinings of the Druid rituals, never taken a lover simply for desire. She wondered vaguely how they would consummate their union, for there was no bed in the room.

Carausius kissed her once more and she clung to him; her bones were melting, she flowed to meet him as the river seeks the sea. Then he lifted her and laid her down upon the map of Britannia that covered the table. Dierna laughed softly, in a single flash seeing the symbolism, and understanding that the Goddess had blessed even this hasty coupling, for, without design or ceremony, High Priestess and Emperor were celebrating the Great Rite after all.

The walls that Eiddin Mynoc had built around his city were high and strong. Teleri could walk all day if she wished, and never have to look at the sea. Since she had come down from Aquae Sulis, she had spent a great deal of time walking, to the despair of the maidservants her father had assigned to attend her. And since Dierna’s visit, she found it impossible to be still.

Sometimes Teleri wondered what the High Priestess had wished to say to her. She had refused to see her, afraid Dierna would try to persuade her to go back to her husband, or to Avalon. But the other woman had spent a great deal of time talking to the Prince, so perhaps she had not really been interested in Teleri after all. In any case, the priestess was gone now, and Teleri’s brothers and their friends were happily practicing cavalry maneuvers on their blooded horses, and learning how to adapt the skills of the hunt to the battlefield. Soon they would leave as well, and then there would be nothing to remind her of Carausius and his war.

A gull swooped across her path, yammering, and she jumped, her fingers making the sign to avert evil.

“Oh, my lady, you must not give way to such superstitions,” said her maid Julia, who had recently become a Christian. “Birds are not evil, only men.”

“Unless it was no natural bird, but an illusion of the Evil One,” said Beth, her other attendant, laughing as Julia crossed herself.

Teleri turned away, their bickering as meaningless as the squawking of the bird. “We will go to the market to look at plates and bowls.”

“But, lady, we were there only two days ago-” began Julia.

“A new shipment of Castor-ware is expected,” answered Teleri, and set off at such a pace that the girl had no breath to spare for another objection.

By the time they returned to her father’s town house, the maids carefully carrying two dark-brown pots embellished with bas-relief hunting scenes, the sun was sinking in the west. The purchase of the pots had distracted Teleri for a little while, but already they had ceased to interest her, and when the girls asked her what to do with them, she shrugged and said they might take them to the housekeeper or the rubbish heap, for all she cared.

Teleri went to her rooms and cast herself upon the couch, then rose once more. She was tired, but she feared to sleep, because so often she had troubled dreams. She had just sat down again when one of the house slaves came bowing to her door.

“Lady, your father says that you should come. The lord Allectus is here!”

Teleri stood so suddenly she felt faint, and grasped the curved end of the couch for support. Had Allectus come as the Emperor’s advocate, or was there another reason? Suddenly self-conscious, she pulled off the stola she had worn to the market, smudged with the dust of the day, and cast it aside.

“Tell them to bring me water for washing, and tell Julia to lay out the rose silk tunica and the matching veil!”

By the time Teleri joined her father and his guest in the dining chamber, she was composed in appearance, if not inwardly. When she had been seated, the conversation returned to the coming invasion.

“And does your intelligence indicate that the Romans will come soon?” asked the Prince.

“I do not think that Constantius has enough transports for the men he will need to bring, and he will need to build more warships as well. He defeated Carausius in Gesoriacum, but our lads gave them a good savaging.”

Allectus sipped at his wine, his gaze slipping sideways to Teleri. He had colored when she came in, but his greeting had been formal. He looked fit, she thought then, his skin browned from much riding in the sun. And he looked older-all the boyish softness had been worn away.

“And the lads we have here,” said the Prince, “will they, as you put it, give the Romans ‘a good savaging’ as well?”

“If we are united,” said Allectus. “But as I travel about, I hear murmurs. Our people-the men of the old Celtic blood-are awakening. To escape from the Roman yoke is much, but some say we should go further, and choose a king who is not himself a foreigner.”

Teleri’s gaze moved to her father, who continued to peel the apple he was holding.

“And how would a high king be chosen?” asked the Prince. “If our people had been able to unite, Caesar-the first one-would never have gotten a foothold on these shores. Our tragedy is that we have always been more eager to fight each other than any foreign foe.”

“But if they could agree? If there were some sign to mark the man our gods have chosen?” asked Allectus softly.

“There are many omens, and many interpretations. When the time comes, a chieftain must judge by what he sees…”

Teleri stared, wondering if she dreamed or they did. What about Carausius? But already the talk had become more general, turning to the training of men and the supplies that fed them, and routes for moving one or another where they must go.

The night was warm, and when dinner was done, Allectus asked Teleri if she would walk with him in the atrium. For a time, they paced in silence. Then Allectus stopped suddenly.

“Teleri-why did you leave Carausius? Was he cruel? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head wearily. She had been expecting something like this. “Hurt me? No-he never cared enough for that. Carausius did nothing, but when I looked at him I saw a Saxon.”

“You never loved him?”

She turned to face him. “Never. But you did, Allectus, or at least he was your hero! What do you want me to say?”

“I thought he would save Britannia!” Allectus exclaimed. “But it was only a change of masters. And I was always in his shadow. And you belonged to him…”

“Did you mean what you said to my father, or were you only testing him?” Teleri asked then.