regained my senses, I saw the bodies of Gaius and our two grandsons, Titus and Flavius, near me. The murderers were waiting for Cailin.”
“Quintus Drusus!”
Cailin cried, her face as white as milk.
“Aye, child, your voice within did not fail you.” Brenna looked to Berikos and continued her horrific tale.
“What of your vaunted Roman magistrate at Corinium?” Berikos asked her scathingly when she had finished. “Is there no longer any Roman justice?”
“The chief magistrate in Corinium is Quintus Drusus’s father-in-law,” Brenna said. “What chance would Cailin have against him?”
“What is it you want of me, then, Brenna?”
“I want your protection, Berikos, though it galls me to ask it. I want your protection for Cailin, and for me. The slaves were still away from the villa when all of this happened. No one knows that we two alone have survived, nor must they ever know. Cailin is your granddaughter, and you cannot refuse me this request. I do not know if I will survive this attack. I am wounded, and my lungs yet ache with the smoke I inhaled. It took all my strength to bring Cailin here to you.”
Berikos was grimly silent.
“You will both have the protection of the tribe,” Ceara said finally. When her husband glared at her, she said, “Brenna is still your wife, Berikos; the mother of your only daughter. Cailin is your granddaughter.
Blood!
You cannot refuse them shelter or protection under our laws, or have you forgotten those laws in your ancient lust for Brigit?”
“I will accept your hospitality only as long as my grandmother lives,” Cailin said angrily. “When she has passed through the door of Death into the next life, I will make my own way in the world. I do not know you, Berikos of the Dobunni,
and I do not need you.”
A small winterly smile touched the corners of the old man’s lips. With cold blue eyes he observed Cailin seriouslyfor the first time since he had entered the hall. “Brave words, little mongrel bitch,” he said, “but I wonder how well your soft Roman ways have prepared you for survival in this hard world.”
“I am not afraid,” Cailin told him defiantly, “and I am able to learn. I would also remind you that I am a Briton, Berikos. I was born here, as were my parents and my grandparents on both sides for generations before me. I have been raised to respect my elders, but do not try my patience, or you will find you cannot hide behind the wall of your many years.”
Berikos raised his hand to her, but lowered it quickly, surprised by the venom he saw in her gaze. She was not as tall as a Dobunni, but neither was she tiny. She reminded him of Kyna in many ways, but her spirit was certainly that of her grandmother. That spirit was what had attracted him to Brenna in the first place. Unfortunately, he had not been able to live with it, and Brenna would not be tamed. He suspected this girl was very much the same.
Cailin. His granddaughter:
She would be a thorn in his side, he believed, but he had no choice but to grant her his protection and the shelter of his hall.
“You may stay,” he said, and turning abruptly, walked away from them.
Brenna sagged against Cailin. “I am weary,” she said.
“Corio,” Ceara commanded, “take Brenna to the empty sleeping space by the south fire pit. It will be nice and warm there. Go with her, child. When you have settled her, come back. I will feed you. You must be hungry after your journey and the shock of all that has happened.”
The young man gently lifted Brenna and moved her swiftly across the hall. Carefully, he lay her in the sleeping space. Cailin covered her grandmother with a lambskin, tucking it about her shoulders. She sighed deeply, a worried look on her face, but Brenna did not see. She was already asleep.
Cailin started at a touch on her arm. Turning, she looked into Corio’s face for the first time. He was a pleasant-looking man with mild blue eyes.
“Come, and my grandmother will feed