Eagle in the Snow Read Online Free PDF

hand. I dismounted and walked towards him, and he to me. Both of us stopped when we were ten paces apart. Neither of us smiled or raised a hand in greeting. But I knew him still and I had a pain inside me for all that was past.
    “I have come as I promised.”
    “I knew you would.”
    He had not changed all that much. He wore the clothes of his adopted people, but there were no tattoo marks on his body that I could see. He was very thin and he was nervous, I think, because he could not keep his hands still, and his fingers played ceaselessly with the hilt of his dagger. There were lines upon his face and on his forehead, and there was a scar across his neck that had not been there before. But his eyes were no longer dead. He had the appearance of a man who was at the end of his strength.
    “What do you want of me?”
    He flinched at my tone. “I want only to ask you a question.”
    “You could have come to the Wall.”
    He half smiled. “I did that—once before. But you were not in a receiving mood on that occasion.”
    “Nor you in a forgiving one.”
    “That is in the past. If we talk of the past we shall only quarrel.”
    “I have no wish to quarrel. I would have killed you at Eburacum once, but there is peace here now.” I looked at him steadily. “The past is dead.”
    “You are well and happy?” he asked.
    “I am content. Few who serve Rome in these times can be happy.”
    “You are fortunate.”
    “If I am, then I work hard for my fortune.”
    “Yet you risked all when you spoke to Magnus Maximus thus.”
    I said, “How did you know that?”
    “If a rat squeaks on your Wall we hear it in those mountains.” He glanced behind him as he spoke. “For example, I can give you news from Mediolanum that you will find hard to bear. Your fanatical emperor has passed laws against those who do not worship his god. Sacrifices are not permitted and the temples are to be closed. Not even in the privacy of your home may you pray to the Immortal One.”
    I stared at him, speechless with shock.
    “It is true,” he said. “I would not joke on such a matter—not to any man. For those who do not profess his faith the road to high office in the empire is now barred for ever.” He paused. He said, coldly, “Were I still a Roman I swear I would not serve a man who passes such unjust laws.”
    I remained silent.
    He looked at my face, half stretched out his hand and then let it fall to his side. “Oh, Maximus, do not look like that. Though you walk through the seven gates of our faith, still you will not know which way the wind may blow you.”
    I said nothing and he stared at the ground with blank eyes. Then he looked up and tried to smile. “Will you drink with me? Just once, for the sake of forgotten things.”
    “Of course. Willingly and with all my heart.”
    He went into the tent and came out with an amphora and two drinking cups. “This came from a wrecked ship,” he said. “I kept it until now, thinking to drink it on some great occasion. I have not tasted your wine in years.”
    I poured the libation and said alone the words that we had been used to saying together in another life, while he watched without comment. It was like a dream, this meeting, and I wondered how it would end. I raised my cup and said to him, “May you be happy.”
    He half smiled. He said, “You have a wife and a home and a people: all the things you wanted except one. Is the dream good now that it has become reality?”
    “I like to think so.”
    “I had a dream, too, but it was conceived in hate.”
    “I know that.”
    “Is that why it failed, do you think?”
    “Perhaps. Yet it nearly succeeded. How did you do it?”
    He poured the dregs from his cup onto the sand and shaded his eyes. “By hard work.”
    I thought of all that it must have taken. The endless talks by smoky fires in rock-bound valleys that we had never seen; the ruthless patience required to smooth over jealousies and blood feuds that were old when