Jenny: Cicero's Head

When he had made his offer, he had not expected her to be so prompt in taking him up on it, nor so untimely in her response. Hefting his fork, he called down, "Sure thing, Aithne. This evening. Ho, stand clear!" he added to a boy running across the court.

Finished, he rejoined Ambrosius on the ridge as sheet after sheet of thatch was pried away. The air had grown still by now an shimmered with a Pictish heat. When Ambrosius ran his fingers through his hair, it stood on end with the sweat. Caleb's own front was getting to be drenched. He imagined Gaius and the boys were rubbing dirt on their palms now to keep steady grips on the shafts of their tools. He envied Jason, up in the hills with the Guttersnipe where it would be cool and there would be a wind moving.

Presently Ambrosius said, "How is the girl getting along? Master Lucius said she is a bit shy and reserved."

"Passably," Caleb replied. "She came out of her shell last evening as I was playing the harp. She claims to be the daughter of a bard from Hibernian country."

This caused Ambrosius to stop a moment, leaning on his fork. "Truly?" he mused, glancing back at the house. "How did she come to be here?"

Caleb followed the line of his sight, suddenly wondering the same thing. He entertained the doubt quite seriously for a few moments, then said, "Aithne... That is Attacotti. What - good heavens." And he jerked his gaze back round to his lord's countenance, feeling suddenly cold in the pit of his stomach.

He said, "She doesn't have the look of a Trojan horse, but she could be good at what she does. A bard's daughter, she said? And bards are the most quicksilver creatures I know. The timeline would all be right, and I could see Vortigern setting up such a scheme."

"What do you want me to do?" Caleb asked quietly.

For a moment Ambrosius did not answer. He seemed to have gone away within himself, his eyes a little distant, thoughtful, but the young man could see the surface of a deeper resentful anger waiting for Aithne's finger to touch it into wakeful torrent. Then he was back, looking out of his own eyes once more, and said, "For now, just watch her. I hope to God that we are wrong and it is nothing more than coincidence. But best not fall to a second Trojan horse."

"Yes, sir." Caleb turned about and slid down the beams, dropping to the ground. He did not have far to look. On a wall nearby one of the village boys sat idle, both arms bound up from being broke. He strode over and touched the boy on the shoulder, waking him from watching a lizard on a rock.

"You've scared him away," the boy said reproachfully.

Caleb said, "Why are you sitting idle?" at which the boy waved both crooked arms like a chicken. He sighed. "Do you know the new girl who just came with the Guttersnipe? I want you to watch her for me. That's something you can do. Watch her, but don't let on that you're watching her. Talk to her. Be friendly. You've got enough raw charm to steal a girl's heart, if you weren't so scrawny. Ply your best, but don't let her out of your sight."

He looked very seriously back at Caleb for a moment, then up at the ridge of the Long Barn where Ambrosius was working busily. "Did he tell me to?" the boy whispered conspiratorially.

"Yes," Caleb said just as seriously. "This is for Britain."

The boy made a smart salute and jumped down off the wall awkwardly, and Caleb gave the figure running off in Aithne's direction a wry and bitter smile.