against your beliefs, my lady. However, grant me a single question.” He paused. She nodded, stiff-necked. “Ever erenow, when a Queen died, a red crescent instantly appeared on the bosom of some vestal. This marked her out as the next Chosen to be one of the Gallicenae, bride of the King and high priestess of Belisama. True? Well, the Nine are gone in a single night. Here are the last of the dedicated maidens. Has the Sign come upon any of them?”
Runa sat straighter still. She passed tongue over lips. “Nay,” she whispered.
The knowledge had already seeped into Gratillonius, damping the fear, but to become sure of it was like a sudden thaw.
“I utter no judgment concerning your Gods,” Corentinus said quietly. “Yet plain is to see that we have come to the end of an Age, and everything is changed, and naughthave we to cling to in this world unless it be our duty toward our fellow mortals.”
Visibly under the close-cropped beard, a muscle twitched at the angle of Amreth’s jaw. “Right that is, my lady,” he said. “We marines will stand by you and the vestals to the death. But this place was under the ward of the Gods, and no raiders or bandits ever dared put us to the test. Now … we number a bare dozen, my lady.”
Runa sat back. She had gone expressionless. Gratillonius studied her. She was tall; beneath the blue gown, her figure was wiry but, in a subtle fashion, good. Her face was thin, aquiline, with a flawless ivory complexion. The brows arched above dark eyes. Beneath her wimple, he knew, was straight hair, lustrous black, which could fall past the shoulders. Her voice was rather high but he had heard her sing pleasingly.
She turned and locked stares with him. “What do you propose?” she asked.
Halfway through, he noticed that he had fallen into Latin. She followed him without difficulty. Amreth sat resigned.
“Ys is lost. Nothing left but a bay between the headlands, empty except for ruins.” He forebore to speak of the dead who littered the beach and gulls ashriek in clouds around them. “Many people died who’d taken shelter there out of the hinterland. Very few escaped. Corentinus and I led them up the valley and billeted them in houses along the way. Those who don’t succumb in the next several days ought to be safe for a while.
“Just a while, though. The granaries went with Ys. It’s early spring. There’s nothing to eat but flocks and seed corn, nothing to trade for food out of Osismia.” He could certainly not make anyone go back and pick through the ghastliness in search of treasure. “Soon all will be starving. And the barbarians will hear of this, Saxons, Scoti, every kind of pirate. Ys was the keystone of defense for western Armorica. The Romans will have more than they can handle, keeping their own cities, without worrying about us. Most of their officials never liked us anyway. If we remain where we are, we’re done. “We have to get out, establish ourselves elsewhere.Corentinus and I are going on to search for a place. I am a tribune of Rome, and he’s a minister of Christ, known to Bishop Martinus in Turonum, and—But meanwhile somebody has to give the people leadership, those we brought from the city and those who held on in the countryside. Somebody has to bind them together, calm and hearten them, ready them for the move. A couple of landholder Suffetes are already at it, but they need every help they can get. Will you give it, my lady?”
The woman sat withdrawn for space before she said, “Aye,” in Ysan. “Between us, I think, Amreth and I may suffice. But first we must talk, the four of us. Grant me this day. Surely you can stay that long.” The hand trembled which she passed across her eyes. “You have so much to tell.”
—Nonetheless, throughout words and plain meals and tearful interruptions from outside, she held herself steel-hard. As the hours wore on, the scheme took shape, and hers were two of the hands that formed it.
—At eventide,
Runa sat straighter still. She passed tongue over lips. “Nay,” she whispered.
The knowledge had already seeped into Gratillonius, damping the fear, but to become sure of it was like a sudden thaw.
“I utter no judgment concerning your Gods,” Corentinus said quietly. “Yet plain is to see that we have come to the end of an Age, and everything is changed, and naughthave we to cling to in this world unless it be our duty toward our fellow mortals.”
Visibly under the close-cropped beard, a muscle twitched at the angle of Amreth’s jaw. “Right that is, my lady,” he said. “We marines will stand by you and the vestals to the death. But this place was under the ward of the Gods, and no raiders or bandits ever dared put us to the test. Now … we number a bare dozen, my lady.”
Runa sat back. She had gone expressionless. Gratillonius studied her. She was tall; beneath the blue gown, her figure was wiry but, in a subtle fashion, good. Her face was thin, aquiline, with a flawless ivory complexion. The brows arched above dark eyes. Beneath her wimple, he knew, was straight hair, lustrous black, which could fall past the shoulders. Her voice was rather high but he had heard her sing pleasingly.
She turned and locked stares with him. “What do you propose?” she asked.
Halfway through, he noticed that he had fallen into Latin. She followed him without difficulty. Amreth sat resigned.
“Ys is lost. Nothing left but a bay between the headlands, empty except for ruins.” He forebore to speak of the dead who littered the beach and gulls ashriek in clouds around them. “Many people died who’d taken shelter there out of the hinterland. Very few escaped. Corentinus and I led them up the valley and billeted them in houses along the way. Those who don’t succumb in the next several days ought to be safe for a while.
“Just a while, though. The granaries went with Ys. It’s early spring. There’s nothing to eat but flocks and seed corn, nothing to trade for food out of Osismia.” He could certainly not make anyone go back and pick through the ghastliness in search of treasure. “Soon all will be starving. And the barbarians will hear of this, Saxons, Scoti, every kind of pirate. Ys was the keystone of defense for western Armorica. The Romans will have more than they can handle, keeping their own cities, without worrying about us. Most of their officials never liked us anyway. If we remain where we are, we’re done. “We have to get out, establish ourselves elsewhere.Corentinus and I are going on to search for a place. I am a tribune of Rome, and he’s a minister of Christ, known to Bishop Martinus in Turonum, and—But meanwhile somebody has to give the people leadership, those we brought from the city and those who held on in the countryside. Somebody has to bind them together, calm and hearten them, ready them for the move. A couple of landholder Suffetes are already at it, but they need every help they can get. Will you give it, my lady?”
The woman sat withdrawn for space before she said, “Aye,” in Ysan. “Between us, I think, Amreth and I may suffice. But first we must talk, the four of us. Grant me this day. Surely you can stay that long.” The hand trembled which she passed across her eyes. “You have so much to tell.”
—Nonetheless, throughout words and plain meals and tearful interruptions from outside, she held herself steel-hard. As the hours wore on, the scheme took shape, and hers were two of the hands that formed it.
—At eventide,