The Forest House by Marion Zimmer Bradley

could hope for was to maintain an uneasy balance until—what, really, was he waiting for?—for all the old wounds to heal?
    You will be dead before that happens, old man! he told himself. And Lhiannon too. He sighed, and saw that the first star had pricked through the darkening sky.
    "The Lady is ready,” said a soft voice behind him. Ardanos turned and saw one of the maidens, Miellyn, he thought, holding open the door.
    Lhiannon’s chamber was lit by hanging lamps of bronze. In their flickering light he saw her already slumped in her chair, Caillean standing watchfully by her side. For a moment the younger priestess met his gaze defiantly, then she stepped aside.
    "She has taken the sacred herbs,” Caillean said in a neutral tone.
    Ardanos nodded. He was well aware of the girl’s hostility, but as long as Caillean observed the forms of respect, he cared little what she thought of him. It was enough that she was devoted to Lhiannon.
    Still frowning, Caillean left them alone. At such a time, when the High Priestess was already beneath the shadow of the Goddess she served, even her bodyguard might not be present here.
    "Lhiannon,” he said softly, and saw a tremor run through her thin frame. "Can you hear me?” There was a long silence.
    "I always hear you…” the High Priestess said at last.
    "You know that I would not be doing this, my dear,” he said, almost to himself, "if there were any other way. But I have learned that there is more trouble over the levies. Bendeigid’s son-in-law Rhodri went after the men they took from the Druid’s clan and attacked the soldiers who were guarding them. There was a fight and Rhodri was captured.
    "Macellius has managed to keep his identity a secret, but there is no way he can save him. The fool was taken in arms against Rome. If that word gets out there surely will be a rebellion. You must counsel peace, my dear.” His voice dropped to a croon. "Let there be peace in the land—the Goddess wills it. Rome’s time will come, but not yet, and not through war. The people must help one another and be patient—tell them, Lady. Let them pray for peace to the gods.”
    As he spoke, he saw her begin to sway, and knew that his words were reaching that deep place beyond conscious memory through which the words of the Oracle came. Despite what Caillean might believe, Ardanos had never doubted that something spoke through the High Priestess when she was thus tranced. But the Druids knew well that the ability of a spirit to speak through a human oracle was directly related to the content and sophistication of the mind that was its vehicle. An ignorant girl, no matter how sensitive, could only speak in simple, homely, terms. It was one reason why the Druid priestesses were so carefully selected and trained.
    Some might have accused him of manipulation, but to the Arch-Druid it seemed that he was only adding his own particular knowledge of the country’s needs to the resources at the Oracle’s command. Though he did his best to impress certain information on the Oracle’s memory, the Goddess, if it were truly She who was speaking, was surely at liberty to decide what to say.
    "Peace and patience…” he repeated slowly. "Rome will fall when the gods will it, but not by our hands…”

FIVE
    G aius watched Dieda and Cynric disappear into the crowd, fighting a desire to call them back again. Eilan, grown suddenly shy, was staring at her feet. He wondered what he could say to her. Hearing the story of the priestesses of Mona had left him feeling oddly diffident, not at all the lord of the world, as a Roman ought to be. Thank the gods Cynric did not suspect his real identity. He had the uneasy feeling that old Ardanos had guessed, but if so, the Druid had kept his secret, which in its way was even more disturbing.
    He cast about for some harmless topic of conversation, and said at last, "Tell me more about how