Culann and Cornellia trudged onward, the long journey not close to complete. Few words were spoken between them, and if an observer did not know the pair, that observer would never have believed the two were friends. Culann had never been a great conversationalist; indeed, his stoic demeanor and self-professed bloodthirsty ways had always kept people at a distance - except, of course, for her.

How long had it been since he'd seen her? Almost two years? Though she was a a few years older than he, she had always looked to be younger than her Brehyrion. If there was ever a female version of Culann, it was Andriveta. Her passion for life was tempered by her druidic training, so she never had the wild streak of the War Chief-turned-Brehyrion. But she possessed his same...fire; that zest for life that enamored friends, terrified enemies, and commanded respect from both.

Are you athought, my friend?

Cornellia's noble voice shook Culann gently from his reverie. His thoughts were never far from Andriveta and home, and lately, from the rest of his combrogi. Brigha, the young trainee, who was a jumble of secrets; Brion, the clever bard who saw all; Dinnsear, Fenton, Ket, and all the rest. Were they still alive? Were they well? Who was the new Brehyrion? Would the Brigantes ancestors be proud of the new Brehyrion? Yes, Culann was indeed "athought".

Yes, combroga, I am athought. I think of my kith and kin. I think of my ancestors.

Culann's addressing the Roman woman as "combroga", a term usually used only for other Celts, may have escaped her. The word itself simply meant "friend", but it connoted something much deeper, for which there were no mainstream words. He wondered if she realized this. He had never called her this before just now. Cornellia could speak the language of the Britannic Celts...but did she understand it? Did she understand the significance of "ancestors"? Or that one's "kith and kin" represented not only immediate family, but a huge collective of fellow tribesmen that extended through generations? Rather than let her in completely, Culann changed the subject

What do you think of my homeland, Roman? Different from The Great Whore, eh?

Culann's small jest - spoken in Latin, and reverting to calling her "Roman" with the slightest sneer in his voice, and even a hint of a smile at the slight to Cornellia's home - was a bit out of character for the big man. He knew she would understand his attempt at mirth. He did not wish her to know his thoughts completely, although as sharp as Cornellia was, that may have been a futile wish.