Saint-Germain: Burning Shadows Part 14

"I will speak to your man, and to Priam Corydon," Sanctu-Germainios offered again. "The monks may have no regard for their bodies, but few of us can be so inattentive."

"Let me think about this," said Isalind. "It is a difficult matter. Patras Anso will put his faith above your medicaments, and my man will follow his lead."

Sanctu-Germainios did not bother to ask why; he knew that among the Gepidae, women were not coddled-as their men put it-the way Romans coddled their women. It would require persuasion of a most practical kind to arrange for Isalind to get the care she needed. "I will do what I can to explain the risks."

"He's good at that," said Nicoris. "He's explained a lot to me. I understood him, too."

Isalind shook her head. "You may try, Dom."

"I will," he said, and turned to Nicoris. "We'll need a drying sheet for her. You may take one from my copper-banded chest."

Nicoris nodded. "Yes, Dom," she said, and went to get it.

"She's devoted to you, isn't she?" Isalind asked.

"It seems so," said Sanctu-Germainios, adding, "Her knowledge of herbs is extensive, and she aids me in my work. I am very grateful to her."

"Grateful?" Isalind looked startled at the word. "Why should you be grateful?"

"Why should I not? She is capable and well-informed," he countered, and would have said more had Nicoris not returned with a drying sheet over her arm.

"There you are," she said, addressing Isalind as she put the sheet on the raised bed, then went back to poke the fire again.

"The water will boil in good time," said Sanctu-Germainios, regarding Nicoris with perplexity: what was she hiding, he asked himself, and why? What would be so dreadful that she would not tell him?

Outside, through the bl.u.s.ter of the storm came the eerie wail of wolves. The three in the old chapel exchanged uneasy glances.

"They're after the livestock," said Nicoris. "And they're near."

"But not inside the old walls," said Sanctu-Germainios.

"No. Not yet." Nicoris hunkered down beside the fire as if she were without protection from the blizzard or the wolves.

"What more will you do when I have bathed?" Isalind asked, needing to distract herself from the growing chorus of howls.

"Treat your sc.r.a.pe, soak your ankle, and bind it. Then I'll get you to the dormitory and talk to your man." He studied Nicoris. "I give the storm two more days; what do you think?"

"At this time of year, two is probably right; there isn't the northern bite to keep it blowing. A month ago it would have been four days at the least." She stood up and dusted off the front of her heavy, long-sleeved palla. "And it will melt quickly, flooding the streams and some of the villages down the mountain along with filling the large rivers. There'll be logs and branches floating in the current, and they may damage the four bridges crossing the Danuvius downstream."

"The bridges are in poor repair in any case," said Sanctu-Germainios. "Neither Roma nor Constantinople has seen fit to restore them." He walked down the length of the main part of the chapel, listening to the counterpoint of wolves and storm. No wonder so many thought these mountains were haunted, he thought. Even in his breathing days most of the inhabitants of the Carpathians had believed that powerful spirits awoke in the remote peaks and valleys during the winter. He remained near the main door for a little while, until Nicoris called to him.

"The water is about to boil."

"I'll come and pour the water into the tub," he responded, and started back toward the main fireplace.

"Dom, do I have to keep from using my ankle-really?" Isalind asked as she watched him heft the cauldron of simmering water and tip it so that it flowed into the wooden tub.

Nicoris took the cauldron. "I'll get snow, to balance the heat," she said, and went to the side-door to let herself out.

"There are too many of us in this place," said Isalind as the door thudded shut.

"I agree," he said to her. "But there is no place to go in such a storm."

"The exiled men are out in it, along with the Huns," Isalind observed. "If he fights again, my man will be one of them." There was worry in her voice, and although she kept her face averted, he could recognize her distress.

"Then it would be best for him to hold his temper." His tone was kindly and he made a point of moving around her chair so he could study her. "Spring will be here in a week or so, and then those who wish to travel may do so."

"And face the Huns alone?" She stared at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "I think, sometimes, that the Huns are just a story made up to frighten us. Other times I almost wish they would come, and end this hideous waiting."

"You have heard what those who have faced them have said of them." He went down on one knee. "It is all a gamble, Isalind. The Huns may pay no heed to this place, or they may attack. If people decide to leave, they may or may not be attacked by the Huns. No one can say what will happen, not with certainty. All we can do is prepare for the worst possibilities, and hope we have been too pessimistic." In his long life he had been in battle many, many times, and each time the battle had not gone as anyone had planned. He thought back to his time in Gaul with Caesar's Legions, and reminded himself that even that superb strategist Gaius Julius Caesar had often misantic.i.p.ated the strength and disposition of his opponents. "But for our own survival, we must a.s.sume they will come and be prepared to fight them."

"Fight them and perhaps lose our lives, I suppose? My man says that the monks are trying to keep us here to fight for them."

"And that may well be part of their motives for allowing us to take refuge here," he said. "I would rather have stout walls and a supply of food and water than wagons in the open if the Huns arrive in force."

"Do you want to die?" She seemed repulsed by the very words.

He gave a sad chuckle and got to his feet. "Oh, Isalind: there are so many worse things than death."

She regarded him in shock as the side-door banged open and Nicoris lugged in a second load of snow in the cauldron.

"There are some of Neves' men on patrol. They claim that the carca.s.s of a deer is missing and they're planning to find it and bring the thief before Priam Corydon." Nicoris lugged the cauldron next to the tub. "I'm going to put two pails of this into the water, and you can test it then, to find out if it is not too hot for you."

"Thank you," said Isalind.

"Whatever you don't want to lower the temperature now, I'll put to heat so you won't have to sit in cold water, or soak your ankle in it." Nicoris waved to Sanctu-Germainios. "You may leave, Dom. I will manage things here."

Sanctu-Germainios offered her a Roman salute. "Call me when you want me to return."

"That we will," said Nicoris, picking up the pail to scoop out snow. "I'll support you to the tub to test the water in a short while," she went on, talking to Isalind.

Sanctu-Germainios moved away, toward his sleeping alcove, again missing Rugierus. He sat on the end of his hard, narrow bed set atop a chest of his native earth, recalling the many times he had seen enmity erupt among men and women forced to live in contained s.p.a.ce under threat. He let his memories range from his living days to the long years of b.l.o.o.d.y vengeance that followed his execution, to the many decades in the Babylonian prison, to his centuries in Egypt where he regained his humanity again, to the peripatetic existence which he still pursued; all the while his recollections were accompanied by the yammer of the storm and the ululation of the wolves.

Text of a letter from Gnaccus Tortulla, Praetor Custodis at Viminacium in the Province of Moesia, to Octavia.n.u.s Honorius Regulus, recorder to the Imperial Court of the Roman Empire in the West at Ravenna, written in code with fixed ink on polished linen, carried by Imperial courier and delivered twelve days after it was written.

To the most august Octavia.n.u.s Honorius Regulus, Ave! The Praetor Custodis at Viminacium in the Province of Moesia, Gnaccus Tortulla, greets you with respect and esteem on this fourth day of April, in the official year of 439.

It is my duty to inform you that in spite of continuing rumors and new bands of refugees, there has been no direct attack on this side of the Danuvius farther west than Odessus. I am certain there may come a time when this is not the case, but at present I see no proof to justify the constant alarm that I hear everywhere. You may inform the Imperial Treasurer that this region will continue to provide revenue from taxes and other payments, such as from customs and a.s.sessments for defense. I have imposed a tax upon those refugees arriving here to cover the increased cost of provisions and more hired soldiers to man the defenses here.

From what I have been able to ascertain of his work, the newly appointed Praetor-General of Drobetae in old Dacia, Verus Flautens, has taken his task to heart. He has heard reports from merchants regarding the movements of the Huns, and transmitted them to me. He has sent his own men to the north to determine the amount of damage the Huns have done, and the present areas of their activities. He has compiled a list of towns that have been emptied and the current locations of many groups of refugees. He has also consulted the refugees coming to Drobetae to ferry over the Danuvius, and has made a record of their accounts, a copy of which he has provided for me, and which I will have a true copy enclosed with this. While I commend his thoroughness, it is my belief that he has placed too much trust in the descriptions of these unfortunates, for he has not yet learned that those who flee count three men as twenty, and twenty as an army.

My next communication will require an escort, for it will accompany the accounts of the last six months as well as the readiness reports of my Tribunes.

Gnaccus Tortulla Praetor Custodis at Viminacium in Moesia

6.

There was a steady drone of bees from the hives at the far end of the outer wall, not unlike the continual chanting from the church. It was late in the afternoon and the cowherds were starting to drive their charges back from grazing between the inner and outer walls to the barn; behind them, the goatherds and shepherds guided their charges to their pens. All around there were signs of spring burgeoning: the flowers on the fruit trees were filled with blossoms, and the raised beds of herbs and vegetables were attended by monks and refugees as well as insects. The air was filled with wonderful scents and the barnyard was redolent of livestock and manure. Lambs and shoats kept near their mothers as they moved; cows plodded steadily while their calves romped; foals rushed among the mares, improving their running. Occasionally the young goats rushed together, b.u.t.ting their heads in antic.i.p.ation of horns.

"The monastery has a good number of young animals," Rotlandus Bernardius said to Mangueinic as they made their way toward the outer walls where two work-crews were putting up the stockade they wanted to complete before the snows melted in the pa.s.s. "I trust we will have had good progress today."

"It's to their advantage to have livestock," said Mangueinic, leaning heavily on his crutch. "Some of it belongs to us, of course." He steadied himself with difficulty, adding, "I would think there would have to be good progress. We had another load of logs brought in this morning."

"I saw the sledge being dragged by the mules. A good thing we have them to work."

"And a good thing we will have them when we leave, given the ground we'll have to cover," said Mangueinic, leaning on his crutch in antic.i.p.ation of the long trek to come. "We'll need them to negotiate the mountains, as we discovered coming here."

"When do you think we should leave?" Bernardius inquired.

"Shortly before midsummer. The days will be at their longest, and there will be many more companies of travelers on the roads, which may provide us greater protection than keeping to ourselves." Mangueinic cleared his throat. "There will be goodly crops and enlarged herds, and if we make an equitable arrangement with the monks, we should all benefit."

"The monks may not see it that way," warned Bernardius. "Some of them have said that any baby animals should be regarded as a donation to the monastery, including the six mules the mares have dropped."

"Those of us who are going to remain here into summer wouldn't mind the monks keeping the babies, so long as we may take the animals we brought with us when we leave. It would be a fair exchange. They have given us a haven-that should be worth a spring's run of new livestock." Mangueinic slewed around, aware that half a dozen men were following them; the westering sun dazzled him so that he was unable to recognize any of the men. "I think there are men who want to talk with you, Tribune."

Bernardius stopped and swung around, shading his eyes as he regarded the men behind him. "Is there something you want of me, fellows?" He turned to Mangueinic. "I believe they're your Watchmen. They probably want to talk to you."

Mangueinic blinked and stepped aside so that the sun was behind him; he was startled to realize Bernardius was right. "What do you want of me, Watchmen? Is there some trouble?" he asked.

The men halted; they all had been serving as Watchmen since they arrived at Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit and they clearly intended to speak to Mangueinic. "We want you and the others in charge to know that as soon as we can get through the pa.s.s, we and our families are going to leave. We've had enough. We'll go south to Viminacium and from there make our way to Pola, where we can take to the sea if the Huns should reach so far into Roman territory, though it doesn't seem likely that they will." The speaker, the former house-keeper Urridien, folded his arms. "Say what you will, we are committed to leaving. Our messenger from Apulum Inferior, Vilca Troed, says he knows the way. He will guide us."

"He knows the way from Odessus to Ravenna," agreed Mangueinic. "He is a fine guide." He looked squarely from one to the next as he went on, "So you, Urridien, and Corcotos, and Bacoem, and Thirhald, and Hovas, and you, Enlitus Brevios, wish to leave with your families-"

"Those of us who still have families who can travel," muttered Thirhald. "My infant son is too young to make such a journey, though my older daughter will be able to. As to Betto, Agtha will care for him. She has already agreed to it."

Rotlandus Bernardius stared hard at the six men. "You are willing to abandon your comrades from Apulum Inferior? Vertigino me facit. I should be ashamed to treat my people of Ulpia Traiana so shabbily."

"Do you think it's what we want to do?" Enlitus Brevios exclaimed. "We'll all be exiled on some excuse or other if we remain here much longer. The monks disapprove of us, and are looking for reasons to make us leave. We'd rather go of our own choice, with what remains of our property and our animals."

"What of the Huns?" Mangueinic asked.

"What of them?" Hovas shot back. "There has been no trace of them. For all we know, they have left these mountains and are searching the plains for better pickings. It would be a sensible thing to do. Coming this far into the mountains for mounted warriors is a tremendous risk. The sentries on the peaks have seen nothing of them. Why should we believe that they will bother to attack?"

"You heard the accounts that the men from Tsapousso gave, didn't you? They didn't believe that the Huns would bother with them. Tsapousso was smaller than this monastery, and as isolated, yet the Huns came. Why would they spare Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit?" Mangueinic asked.

"All the more reason to leave as soon as possible-the monks as well as the rest of us," said Bacoem. "If we go, we will have a chance to be safe. If you're right, we will never be so here."

"If I'm right, you won't be safe in Pola," said Mangueinic.

"How do you know that? Have you been in contact with the Huns?" Urridien demanded, flicking his hands fastidiously.

"No more than you have," Mangueinic countered, his face darkening as his temper rose.

"Watchmen, please," said Bernardius. "We need not turn to anger."

Mangueinic glowered at the far wall, taking care not to engage anyone's eyes; he struggled to keep his voice even and his tone amiable. "If we had reliable, recent information, we might be able to find a solution that would put as few of us as possible at risk. Since we have no such information, I think it might be wisest to wait before taking any action."

Hovas took a step forward. "We are leaving and there is nothing you can do to keep us here."

"Possibly not," Bernardius interjected, attempting to reduce the tension that was building between Mangueinic and the men from Apulum Inferior. "But since there is no reason to think that anyone can get through the pa.s.s from either direction, there is still time to discuss the matter and work out a plan that will expose you to the least risk. Fas est cogit."

"There you are wrong," said Thirhald with a harsh smugness. "We do have current information. A man has arrived from Drobetae a short while ago. He made it through the pa.s.s, he and his two mules. He is with Antoninu Neves and Priam Corydon at present."

Bernardius and Mangueinic exchanged startled glances. "From Drobetae? What would he want here? Why not make for Apulum or Ulpia Traiana? They're more accessible." Mangueinic could not conceal his doubts about this new arrival. "What does he want with us?"

"He says he was sent here, and he carries a letter from the Praetor-General of Drobetae to Priam Corydon," Brevios declared. "In addition he has his own observations to report."

"I was unaware that Drobetae had a Praetor-General," said Bernardius, his observation laden with skepticism. "Non credo."

"He is newly appointed, the messenger says. A Roman landowner called Verus Flautens, long known to protect Roman interests in the former province of Dacia, which accounts for his advancement," said Urridien, a trace of satisfaction in his voice. "Dom Sanctu-Germainios affirms he knows the name."

"I, too, have exchanged messages with him," said Bernardius. "Although it startles me that the Romans would decide to make such an appointment at a time like this."

"It is one way to ensure that the old border is maintained on both sides of the Danuvius," said Mangueinic. "He will undoubtedly work in concert with Gnaccus Tortulla in Viminacium, who is well-established."

Thirhald laughed unpleasantly. "The man from Drobetae has said that he is charged with advising the Praetor-General, who has been a.s.signed the task of keeping the road open and protected for those seeking to leave the former Province of Dacia, or to cross through it. It is our intention to take advantage of this extended protection before the Huns come along the Danuvius."

"Why do you say the Huns will follow the Danuvius?" Bernardius asked. "Or has the messenger brought news about that, as well?"

"It is believed that they will attempt to cross the river into Moesia once the river pa.s.ses the danger of flooding,"

"How do you plan to travel?" Mangueinic asked. "Which way will you go?"

"We'll follow the old milestones on the Roman roads, and gauge ourselves every thousand paces in order to determine our speed of travel." Thirhald nodded twice. "Just the way the merchants do."

"Huns can follow milestones, too, and they travel faster than a band of refugees," Bernardius said in as steady a voice as he could produce. "As Goths follow white pebbles and notched tree-trunks."

"There are still some fortresses where we can find shelter if we need to seek protection." Hovas gave Bernardius a hard look. "We will have Vilca Troed to guide us."

Corcotos, who had been content to glare at Mangueinic and Bernardius, now spoke up. "You have no right to order us to remain here. It was never our intention to remain here. We only want to preserve what little we have left, and we cannot do that in this place, with the monks requiring we live according to their dictates."

"You may not be able to preserve your goods and chattel anywhere else," said Bernardius. "Some of the garrisons are as greedy as pirates on the sea, and some would not be above selling you into slavery if you will not pay them what they demand."

"You say that to frighten us," Hovas accused. "But Troed says that he knows all the garrison commanders from Porolissum-they are gone from that town now, but Troed knows them-to Durostorum, in Moesia Inferior. He will handle all our arrangements."

"Dorus Teodoricos can probably be trusted," said Bernardius, doing his best to be accommodating. "But there are others I wouldn't put too much faith in. Cave amic.u.m."

"Because you're so frightened you can't see the advantage of leaving," Hovas said scornfully. "You'll stay here until the monks have everything."

"I think," said Mangueinic, "that you might want to hear what the newcomer from Drobetae has to say before you make any binding plans. He will undoubtedly have more information than any of us."