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“And in the south?” he asked.

“The Cantiaci seem to have gotten word. Their warriors were amassing. The Regnenses, too, seem to be preparing, but not for war. For the arrival of a friend.”

Cormag frowned. “Do the druids know?”

“I don’t know. May Bellnorix forgive me, but for the first time, I am wishing I had a druid in my house.”

Cormag looked down at his clothes. “I will change then rejoin you at once,” he said, kissing me on the forehead.

“The farm?”

“Lost half a dozen sheep to the river, but no lives were lost, and the home itself was spared. We did what we could to dam and reroute the water.”

I took his hand. It was covered in grime. “The Brigantes thank you.Ithank you.”

“You are one and the same,” Cormag told me, kissing me again.

When he pulled away, I chuckled. “You left mud on my chin.”

“That is your mud, Brigantes queen,” he said, then pulled back to look at his daughters, who were sleeping. “My princesses are still abed.”

“They were roused briefly by the news of the Romans. Greer only now got them to sleep once more. Regan was particularly indignant.”

Cormag chuckled. “That is the Crow in her. She is ready to peck their eyes out,” he told me with a wink. “I will join you again soon,” he said and departed.

Within the hour, Onnen and Môd arrived. By luck, the priestesses had been together at a nearby shrine.

“See to their lodgings,” I told Kamden, “and ensure a fine feast is prepared.”

“Yes, my queen,” the man said with a bow, then departed.

Môd, Onnen, Corva, Cormag, Conall, Fabius, and I all met in my workroom. The priestesses wore severe expressions on their faces.

“The whispers from Rome grew into a soft roar,” Corva told them. “Only when I crossed the channel and rode south did I discover the truth myself. Legions of men marching northward.”

“And the southern tribes?” Onnen asked.

“When I arrived in Durovenrum, I saw early signs that the Cantiaci king had learned the news and was making preparations,” Corva told me. “And we have news from the Regnenses. Roman advance teams were seen at their seat, but there is no sign that they are preparing for a fight.”

“Then they are preparing to become rich as they open the door to Atrebates lands,” Môd said with a frown.

Onnen sighed. “We must reach out to the druids.”

Môd frowned.

“Sister,” Onnen said, looking at Môd expectantly, but the look on Môd’s face told me she had her own ideas. Her eyes hada faraway look, and she drummed her finger on the table. After a long time, she looked up, her gaze going from Corva to Fabius.

“Tell me about this Caligula,” she asked Fabius.

“Mad,” Fabius replied. “When he first became emperor, he was beloved by his military and the people, whom he liberated from taxes. So, of course, they loved him. But behind his back, powerful men plotted his death. Early on, Caligula survived poisoning and emerged from the episode much changed. He now insists he is a god and demands to be treated as such. He dresses like his gods and had a temple erected close to his own lodgings so he might have private council with our great god, Jupiter. Any who oppose him, from his adopted son to his grandmother, he has executed. And if you mention that he is hairy—and he is very hairy—he will have you killed. He built a mansion for his horse with lavish marble floors and gold trim. Oh, and he has beautiful ships, like floating palaces. They are temples to Venus,” Fabius said with a mischievous grin. “He hosts very fleshy parties on those ships. I did try to get invited but never quite made the cut. But once I went to a fertility fest?—”

Corva raised her hand to silence Fabius before he said more. “And now, Neptune has sent him north to conquer our island once and for all.”

“So he speaks to the gods,” Môd said. “To whom does he chiefly worship?” she asked Fabius.

“She is called Diana, the virgin huntress and goddess of the moon,” he replied.

Môd nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you,” she told Fabius, then turned to Corva. “You have done well, Priestess.”