playing outside by the fire pit with a straggle of other children. âTidings, Manacca,â I called as I hurried past. âDo you want some broth?â
âIâm not allowed in,â she cried, turning back to her skittling stones.
There was a scent of disagreement in the room as I shouldered through the inner doorskins of the sleephouse. Fibor and Etaina were not within. Again Fraid sat with Llwyd alone.
âDoes he forget the reputation of Britainâs knowledge?â said Llwyd. âWe are known the world over for our teaching.â
I passed him a bowl and he took it gratefully.
âInitiates travel from Germania to be taught here, from Gaul,â he continued. âAlbion is at the very centre of learning, Tribequeen.â He sipped his broth.
âBut he has seen the new world,â said Fraid. âHe sees freedom in it.â
They were speaking of Ruther. I handed Fraid her soup and slipped to the edge of the room.
âHe mistakes wealth for freedom,â said Llwyd, âand might for wisdom.â
They drank in silence for a few minutes. âYou may leave,â said Fraid, turning to me.
âShall I not wait for your bowls?â I uttered before I could stop.
âNo, Ailia.â She frowned in surprise. âI asked you to leave.â
I waited as the heavy skins of the inner doorway flapped closed behind me. Fibor or Etaina could return at any moment, but I was hungry to know what was being said inside. I leaned toward the doorskins and could just hear their muffled voices.
âWhy do you remove her?â Llwyd asked. âI thought she held your trust?â
âShe lay with him at the fires. I do not want our words recounted at his pillow.â
I heard Llwyd chuckle. âShe certainly commands an allure beyond that of a kitchen girl.â
They both laughed, then quieted.
âRutherâs words have unsettled the journeypeople,â said Llwyd. âWith Belinusâs death, we do not need one of our own warriors crying the greatness of Rome.â
âI will summon the council tomorrow to discuss what we shall do.â
Footsteps approached the sleephouse. Manacca squealed outside.
My heart thudding, I continued to listen as the footsteps passed.
âI have looked to the stars and to the birds,â said Llwyd. âWe stand at the dawn of a change. And Rutherâs words at the feast have given it shape.â
âSurely his knowledge of Rome can only strengthen usâ¦?â
There was a pause before Llwyd answered. âWhat strengthens us is the Mothers. We have to hold them close. We have to protect our bond to them.â
âBut is it not already strong? The journeymen are powerful, as you have saidââ
âThere is one weakness,â said Llwyd.
Fraid sighed and I heard the exasperation in it. âWe have agreed to raise this no further, Journeyman. It is no riddle I can solve. Why speak of it now?â
âBecause the Great Bear is dead. And a vulture is circling his carcass. When it lands, make no mistake, we will need the strength of the Kendra. We will need the presence of one who has sung.â
âThe bloodline is fallen.â Fraidâs voice had a strange edge. âWe cannot conjure her from chalk or iron. With or without a Kendra, we must plan our defence against Rome.â
I stood frozen in the dark corridor between doors, straining to make sense of their words. Who was this woman? This Kendra? Why could she not be discussed?
âNo army of the tribes will triumph without her blessing,â said Llwyd. âShe is the voice of the Mothers.â
âThen why has she not spoken?â said Fraid.
âShe will speak,â said Llwyd. âWe must make sure we are listening.â
âAilia!â Llwydâs voice rang through the early dusk.
I had fled the sleephouse as I heard him prepare to leave, and now he sighted me hurrying toward the kitchen. I