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“The Cantiaci were preparing for the onslaught, and the Regnenses were readying for visitors,” I replied.

“How, exactly, do you know that, Queen Cartimandua?” Lord Gregor asked, but I ignored his question.

“Queen Mael Muire comes to the heart of the problem,” I told the others. “The southern tribes are sleeping. And so doing, they endanger us all.”

“All the more reason to back Aengus,” Lord Gregor said. “If we can rid King Ord, who backs the Catuvellauni, we can help to stabilize the south.”

“You speak out of turn,” Venutiux told him. “You are not chieftain. That is for Ystradwel to decide.”

“Bold of you to speak, Carvetti. Not even a year has passed since you sailed to burn Setantii cities,” Lord Gregor replied.

“Enough,” I said, raising my hand. “Ousted King Verica of the Atrebates rode north with the Romans. He failed to recover his lands—this time. But it is clear he has Rome’s ear. We must all be watchful in the years to come. Who is to say Neptune will not whisper again?”

“And we must not trust the southern tribes to act in any manner to prevent an invasion,” Mael Muire said. “We should meet with the Selgovae, Novantae, and Damnonii. If we northern tribes can come to an accord, we will be stronger against any enemy—from the north or south.”

“Expecting trouble from the Caledonian Confederacy, Queen Mael Muire?” Chieftain Maelgwyn asked.

“Always. Which is why I am still queen.”

The others chuckled.

“Romans aside, what news? Any other problems at hand? Are your Parisii neighbors keeping quiet, Brennan?” Chieftain Caradoc asked.

“For the most part,” Chieftain Brennan said.

I turned to Venu and gave him an expectant look.

“I… I have news,” Venu began. “My wife and I have just learned that Prince Senorix is dead. He succumbed to a sudden fever. With Alistair also dead, there is only Alys, my wife, as Ruith’s heir. We will ride south to attend Senorix’s rites from here.”

“Then I suppose Ruith plans to live forever,” Chieftain Calos said.

The others chuckled, but I saw something I had not seen before. A glimmer in Venu’s eye. If Alys was the only Parisii heir, Venu could take the Parisii throne through her. No doubt, there were many a Parisii chieftain who would be ready to protest such a move, but Venu had already marked the Parisii tragedy as an opportunity. And I couldn’t say that I disagreed.

“I extend my condolences to your wife,” I told Venu. “As should everyone else. The prince was innocent, and sons should never be blamed for the sins of their fathers.”

At that, the men nodded.

“What other news?” I asked. “I will have you speak of your holdings,” I said but turned to Eddin and Mael Muire. “You do not have to stay for such talks, my friends. Romans are one thing, but grain and cattle may be of little interest to you.”

Eddin smiled softly at Queen Mael Muire. “Can I interest you in a dram of cherry wine, Queen Mael Muire?”

Mael Muire nodded, then rose. She paused, setting her hand on Cormag’s shoulder, then departed with Eddin.

The conversation lasted until late in the evening. There were only small matters to be settled, and for the most part, it seemed like the chieftains were trying to prevent me from hearing too much. Their usual bickering over trivial points was kept to a minimum. In their empathy, they quickly found ways to work together.

When we were finally done, Cormag rose. “We thank you all for all your efforts and support. Cartimandua and I are grateful to you all.”

“King Consort,” they all replied, bowing to Cormag.

When they moved to depart, I called out, “Lady Ystradwel, a moment?”

Ystradwel signaled to Lord Gregor to linger.

“No. No. The chieftain only. Good night, Lord Gregor.”

The man paused, giving Ystradwel an uncertain glance, then smiled broadly at me. “Queen Cartimandua. King Consort. Again, my deep condolences,” he said, then moved to depart.

Corva, to my surprise, followed him. “Lord Gregor,” she called, “let me bend your ear a moment over a love of fine weaponry,” she said with a cheerful laugh, then walked with the man from the room.