“Give her a pot of that salve I taught you to make,” Nuala said. “It will be more than enough, I promise. We’ll go in together, but I’ll go first, and give her this bronze and enamel pin. It’s really generous, but I don’t like it any longer.”
The two cousins approached the awning. The old woman beneath it was certainly an ancient-looking creature. Her black eyes surveyed them as they came. She resembled a turtle sunning itself upon a rock in the early spring, Cailin thought.
“Come! Come, my pretties,” she greeted them, cackling. “Do you want old Granny to tell you the future?” She smiled a toothless grin at them.
Nuala held out the pin, and the old woman took it, looking it over carefully, nodding with pleasure.
“No one does finer enamel work than you Celts,” she said admiringly. “Give me your hand, girl. I will see what life has in store for you, eh?” Chortling, she took Nuala’s hand and looked deeply into the palm. “Ahhhh!” she said, and then she looked again. “Yes! Yes!”
“What is it?” Nuala cried. “What do you see, old woman?”
“A strong, handsome man, my girl, and not just one. You will be wife to two men. You will have many children, and grandchildren. Aye! You will live a long life, my girl. It will not always be an easy life, but you will not be unhappy.” The Gypsy dropped Nuala’s hand.
“Two husbands?” Nuala looked nonplussed, and then she giggled. “Well, if one is not enough, I shall be happy to have another. Andmanychildren, you say? You are certain?”
The old woman nodded vigorously.
“Well,” Nuala said, “it’s a good fate, and I will be happy with it. What better for a girl than marriage and children?” She pulled Cailin forward. “Now, tell my cousin her future! It must be at least as good as mine is. Give her the salve, Cailin!” Nuala finished impatiently.
Cailin handed the small stone pot of salve to the Gypsy, who took the girl’s palm and peered into it.
“You have but recently cheated death,” the fortune-teller said. “You will cheat it more than once, girl, before your time here is done.” She looked into Cailin’s face, and Cailin shivered. The Gypsy looked down into her hand again. “I see a man; no, more than one.” She shook her head. “Golden towers. Aiiii, there is too much confusion here! I cannot see what I need to see.” She loosed Cailin’s hand. “I cannot divine further for you, my child. I am sorry. Take back your salve.”
“No,” Cailin replied. “Keep it if you can but tell me one thing, old woman. Will I lose a loved one to death soon?”
The Gypsy took Cailin’s hand again and said, “You have lost several loved ones recently, my child, and yes, the last tie binding you to your old life will soon be severed by death. I am sorry for you.”
“Do not be,” Cailin told her. “You have but confirmed what my own voice within tells me. May your gods protect you.” She turned away, Nuala in her wake.
The younger girl’s face was worried. “It is Brenna, isn’t it?” Nuala asked.
Cailin nodded. “I try to put a good face on it for her sake,” she said. “Everyone pretends in my presence that they do not notice, but we all know, even Grandmother. She has been with me my entire life. She saved me from death and brought me to safety. I want so much for her to grow well and live many more years, but she will not, Nuala. She is dying a little bit each day, and for all my love, there is nothing I can do to help her.”
Nuala put a comforting arm about her cousin’s shoulder and squeezed her. “Death is but the doorway between this life and the next, Cailin. You know that, so why do you already grieve before Brenna has even taken the first step through that doorway?”
“I grieve because I cannot take that step yet, Nuala. I will remain alone on this side of the door while my family lives on the other side of that door. I miss my parents, and my brothers!”
There was simply nothing Nuala could say that would comfort Cailin, and so she remained silent. She had all her family yet about her. She could only barely imagine what it must be like to be without one’s family, and that small imagining came close to making her weep. Attempting to change the subject, she suggested, “Let us go and watch the footraces. My brother Corio is very swift. All the young men from the other villages will unwisely try to beat him.”
“And they will not?” Cailin asked with a small smile. Nuala’s love for her brother bordered on worship.
“No one can beat Corio,” Nuala insisted proudly.
“I can!”came a young voice, and the cousins turned to see a handsome young man with dark hair pulled back by a leather thong.
“Bodvoc the Boastful,” Nuala mocked him. “You could not best my brother at Lugh last. Why would you think you can best him now?”
“Because I am faster this year than last,” Bodvoc said, “and when I win the race, Nuala, you will reward me with a kiss.”
“I most certainly will not!” Nuala said indignantly, blushing, but Cailin noticed her protest was not really as vigorous as she wanted it to seem.
Bodvoc grinned engagingly. “Yes, you will,” he said, and then went off to join the other young men preparing to race.
“Who is he?” Cailin asked.
“Bodvoc. His father is Carvilius, headman of one of our grandfather’s villages. Your mother was to have married Carvilius, but when she chose your father instead, he married a Catuvellauni woman. Bodvoc is the last of their children.”
“Bodvoc likes you, Nuala,” Cailin teased her younger cousin.
