‘You could,’ said Dragus, ‘But what man would risk the wrath of a Goddess as powerful as Vesta. Kill one of her Priestesses and her fury would descend upon your people like the worst storm you have ever seen.’
‘Do you threaten me, Roman?’
‘No great chief, I only seek what is best for all of us.’
Blackthorn sat back in silence, staring at the foreigner. He was afraid of nothing, apart from the gods, but as a child he had also seen the power of the Romans, slaughtering everyone before them during their invasion. He knew that Dragus was telling the truth. Eventually he spoke again.
‘Tomorrow, when the child is born, we will decide,’ he said, ‘But tonight we will drink. He threw the wine skin over to Dragus. ‘Drink deep, Roman, there are plenty more skins to drain before the sun rises.’
Dragus unplugged the stopper with his teeth and lifted the neck up to his mouth. He had played the game, the die was cast. Their fates were now in the hands of the gods, and a certain unborn baby.
— -
The following morning saw the entire village gathered in silence around the cave entrance. Word had been sent that the birth was imminent and a hung-over Dragus dragged himself from the quilt of furs where he had fallen several hours earlier. He left the hut and dipped his head in a horse trough to bring himself around. There was no sign of the Chief but he followed the crowd up to the cave and made his way to the front of the throng. Blackthorn and his son were already there, neither showing any sign of the heavy drinking session.
‘You must have the head of an ox,’ said Dragus.
‘And you, a stomach of a child,’ answered Blackthorn.
‘It seems I underestimated the strength of your ale.’
A commotion at the cave drew their attention. An old woman came out and talked in hushed whispers to the smaller group. Two of the women rushed into the cave while another came quickly down the slope to talk to the chief, talking in a dialect Dragus couldn’t understand. When she had finished, the chief dismissed her and she made her way quickly back up to the cave.
‘What’s the problem?’ asked Dragus, ‘Is the child okay?’
‘Things do not go as expected,’ said the chieftain.
Dragus stepped forward to make his way up to the cave, but the grip of the Chieftain on his arm prevented him.
‘This business is not for men,’ he said. ‘The women are with her. Leave it to them.’
‘She may need me,’ said Dragus.
‘She has her slave and her Goddess,’ said Blackthorn, ‘With their help she will be okay.’
Inside the cave, Rose stood to one side of the cave, waiting for the midwives to finish their work. Rubria had already given birth, relatively easily, and the sound of the baby crying was a welcome relief to all present, however, now the attention of the old women was now totally focussed on the mother. Gradually, one by one they left the Priestesses side until eventually only one was left. She looked around and caught Rose’s eye, shaking her head slightly to confirm Rose’s worst fears. She beckoned her over to the pile of furs where Rubria lay. Rose waked forward, her heart sinking and the old woman moved out of the way, rubbing the ex slave’s shoulder in sympathy as they exchanged places at the bedside. Rose fell to her knees alongside Rubria, tears flowing like rivers down her face.
‘Mistress,’ she whispered, picking up one of Rubria’s hands.
The Priestess opened her eyes and tried to focus on the slave who had become her friend.
‘Rose?’ she whispered.
‘Yes, mistress, said Rose, ‘I am here.’
‘Is the child okay, Rose?’
‘Yes, Miss, a beautiful baby girl. I will bring her to you.’
‘Wait,’ said Rubria, ‘There are things that must be said.’
‘There will be time for words later, Miss,’ said Rose.
‘No there won’t,’ said Rubria, ‘I have learnt enough of these peoples words to know I am dying.’
Rose’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to burst from her very soul.
‘Rose,’ continued Rubria, ‘We have come a long way you and I, and you are a free woman, But there is something I would ask of you.’
‘Anything,’ whispered Rose, almost silently.
‘The child,’ said Rubria, I want you to care for her as if she was your own. Bring her up in the ways of the Goddess. Teach her the devotions and the rituals that have been part of me for as long as I can remember. Will you do that?’
Rose nodded, and wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her shawl.
‘Of course I will,’ she said.
‘Also,’ said Rubria, weakly, ‘The child will need a father to protect her. Make an honest man of Dragus and take him as your man.’
‘I am a slave, Miss, I am not sure he will see me as a suitable match.’
‘You are a free woman, Rose, and I have seen the way he looks at you,’ said Rubria, ‘But men are stupid in these matters, you will have to take the lead. Besides, the attraction seemed mutual in the darkest hours of the cold nights.’
‘You have heard us?’ asked Rose, feeling the blush starting on her cheeks.
‘Don’t fret, Rose,’ said, the Priestess, ‘You have your needs, and truth be told, there were times when I envied the protecting embrace of a man when I was afraid. Alas, it seems the mother has other plans for me.’
‘Oh, Miss,’ started Rose.
‘Wait,’ said Rubria, ‘There is one more thing you must do.’ She spent the next few minutes explaining the task to her friend before collapsing weakly back onto the firs.
‘I grow tired,’ she said, ‘Do you understand everything I have said.’
‘Yes, Miss,’ said Rose, ‘Though it is a big undertaking.’
‘I know you can do it, Rose,’ said Rubria, ‘Now, bring me my daughter so I can take the memory of her into the next life.’
Rose stood up and collected the baby from one of the women remaining in the cave. She placed her in the arms of the Priestess and pulled the linen cloth back from around the child’s head so Rubria could see her face.
‘She’s beautiful,’ whispered Rubria, her own tears beginning to roll.
The baby woke up and gazed into her mothers eyes for the first and last time.
Rubria gasped in astonishment.
‘Holy, Mother,’ she whispered, ‘Look at her eyes, Rose, have you ever seen any so beautiful.’
Rose looked down, and though the imminent death of her Priestess was foremost in her mind, the astonishing depth of blue that stared back at her was like nothing she had ever seen.
‘She is truly blessed by the Goddess,’ said Rose.
‘Look after her, Rose.’
‘I will, Miss,’ cried Rose, ‘By all the God’s in the heavens, I promise you she will be brought up safe and in the ways of Vesta.’
‘Then I will die happy,’ said Rubria.
Outside the cave, the crowd had fallen silent, and Dragus sat with his back against a tree waiting to be told something. Finally, thirty minutes later, the morning air was shattered by a chorus of unearthly wails, echoing out of the cave and around the valley as all the women started their mourning.
Dragus jumped to his feet, and ran up the hill. This time, nobody tried to stop him. He burst passed the several women at the cave mouth and entered the cavern. Rose was knelt by the side of Rubria’s body, smoothing her sweat-soaked blonde hair back from her cold brow. Any colour had gone and Dragus knew the Priestess was dead. He knelt besides Rose and put his arms around her shoulders.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘The birth was too much for her,’ said Rose, not taking her eyes off the Priestess, ‘She gave everything she had but in the end was too weak.’
‘The child?’ asked Dragus, looking around.
‘She is fine,’ said Rose, ‘The midwives are seeing to her needs for now, but it is you and I who will raise her. Rubria wished it so.’ She looked up at him through glistening eyes. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Of course it is,’ he said.
They stayed with the body for over an hour before the women took it away to prepare for burial. Finally they were alone.