Come Twilight (17 page)

“That is two,” said Csimenae. “Who else wishes to come? Ione? Do you want to enter the gates? Does Pordinae?” She waited for an answer, and smiled when Ione conceded. “Admit her, Sanct’ Germain.”

Ione brought the toddler, Gratio, in through the gate with her, and carried the baby who was not yet a year old. “His parents are dead, and his two sisters are married away from Mont Calcius. They cannot take him, and he has no others to claim him. I will care for him, and I will see that he honors his vow. Gratio will stay with me as well, if you will permit it.”

“Poor child,” said Csimenae in a tone that was in earnest. “It is good of you to take him in hand, Ione,” she went on as if conferring great honor on the two. She went on, “As you have no man with you, your vow will bind you.”

After that, Pordinae came inside the gates, and finally Rilsilin, the pockmarked youth, came to kiss Aulutis’ foot.

“What do you think, Tacanti?” Csimenae called out, and was mildly surprised to hear nothing in answer.

“I think he has gone into the woods,” said Rilsilin, sounding embarrassed. “He said he was disgusted with . . . with having to honor an infant.” His face flushed, and the scars stood out on his skin.

“Gone into the woods,” Csimenae repeated as if slapped. “How can he have done that?”

“He did not want to come here,” said Rilsilin, his face almost purple from his intense embarrassment.

“May he die of hunger,” Csimenae said loudly enough for everyone to hear her. “May bears and wolves fight over his bones.”

There was a long silence after that, and then Rogerian came from the alley that led toward the sheepfold. “I have finished putting out the evening feed,” he reported to Csimenae as if he were wholly unaware of this discomfort around him.

“Very good,” said Csimenae. “We will now assign houses to my son’s new allies.” She smiled at the eight who had gathered around her.

“As you wish,” said Pordinae for all of them.

“Yes; as I wish on behalf of Aulutis.” With that, she started toward the market square, the others tagging along behind her.

The assigning of houses took very little time, even though Csimenae did her best to make the occasion a momentous one. Walking along the street, she offered her assessment on each of the buildings she passed, letting the others chafe with impatience. Her confidence increased as she went on, and she became less critical. She promised that no one but Aulutis could evict them from their houses now, and added that their chores would be assigned to them tomorrow.

“And for tonight?” Henabo asked, making a point of screwing up his courage so that the others would pay close attention.

“There is smoked goat-flesh and new cheese. I will order a fire made in the center of the square and we can all gather there.” Csimenae beamed at them. “You will be glad you have returned here.”

Watching this from the edge of the market square, Sanct’ Germain was troubled by the way in which Csimenae reveled in her position. “Her character has force,” he said to Rogerian in the language of his own, lost people, “but I fear she lacks the ability to stand alone.”

Rogerian shrugged. “Why would she stand alone? She managed with the two of us.”

“That is what troubles me. We will not always be here, and if she is ever at odds with these people—and oath or no oath, it is possible—then she may be swayed by her own loneliness.”

“Is that so great a failing?” Rogerian asked, his face revealing little of his thoughts.

“If it betrays you, yes,” Sanct’ Germain responded, his dark eyes distant.

“Do you think it would?” Rogerian’s faded-blue eyes were perplexed.

“I do not know; that is why I am troubled.” He looked north-east, to the mountains rising behind them. “Perhaps I am seeing the anxiety of an abandoned woman—and one with child—and that is what makes her so vulnerable.”

Rogerian considered this. “Is it the vulnerability that worries you, then?”

Sanct’ Germain shook his head for an answer, and resumed speaking in the admixture of Latin and the local tongue. “This village could be hard to defend, if it came to that, with only the people she has admitted so far.”

It was not an answer to Rogerian’s question, and he knew it, but he accepted it for the dismissal it was. “Could it come to that?”

“I suppose that depends on Tacanti,” Sanct’ Germain said after a brief silence. “If he decides to gather others around him to try to seize this place, it could lead to very real danger for everyone inside the gates.”

“And do you intend to do anything about it?” Rogerian inquired, vaguely aware that Rilsilin was standing nearby and listening.

“I do not yet know what
to
do,” Sanct’ Germain confessed. “I suppose I will have to remain alert to more than prey when I hunt.”

“Then you are planning to continue hunting?” Rogerian was not entirely surprised, but he was keenly aware of the greater risk this could entail now that Tacanti might be in the forest.

“I must,” Sanct’ Germain said. “We cannot feed these people without meat. If we kill the goats and sheep we have penned, most of these people will starve by the end of summer.”

“Do you plan to try to find more goats and sheep for the flocks? That could ease the situation for the village.” Rogerian was certain now that Rilsilin was paying close attention to everything they said.

“If I can. We must somehow find a village down the slopes where we may purchase grain, or trade for it. There are only two barrels of flour left, and they will not last long.”

“Truly,” Rogerian said.

“If not a village, perhaps a monastery or an estate,” Sanct’ Germain went on. “With the Great Pox on the wane, there will be markets again.”

“Will there be a market here, do you think?” Rogerian asked, making a covert gesture to Sanct’ Germain, indicating Rilsilin was eavesdropping.

“Possibly not this year, but if all goes well, perhaps next year,” Sanct’ Germain answered, his fine brows lowering.

Rogerian considered this response. “Will Mont Calcius be ready to open its gates to unknown visitors then, do you think? She cannot hold a market if she insists on letting in visitors one at a time.”

“No,” Sanct’ Germain agreed. “And she will need more people in the village if it is to thrive.”

“Is that likely to happen?” Rogerian scraped his thumb along the bristles of his cheek. “Tacanti might not be the only villager who is unwilling to give an oath of fealty to a baby.”

“He might not be,” Sanct’ Germain seconded.

“And where does that leave Csimenae and her new allies?” He shot a quick look at Rilsilin, who had slid closer to them.

Sanct’ Germain frowned, and responded obliquely. “I believe Csimenae is confident she will be secure now, that the people she had allowed to swear fealty will honor their oaths, but I am not as convinced as she is.”

“Do you plan to warn her?” Rogerian doubted that Csimenae would welcome any such remonstrating as Sanct’ Germain might offer, no matter how gently he phrased it.

“It would be expedient to do so,” Sanct’ Germain said. “When the opportunity presents itself, I will.”

“And how soon do you think that will be?” Rogerian studied Sanct’ Germain’s face.

The answer came in the tongue of Baghdad. “Before that youth reports to Csimenae.”

Rogerian managed to smile a little. “Yes,” he said in the same language. “He may well do that.”

Sanct’ Germain gave a single chuckle, and said in the language of the village, “I am relying on it,” as he carefully avoided looking in Rilsilin’s direction. “In the meantime, I should prepare to hunt tonight.”

“You will have to be more careful hunting, now,” Rogerian said, more intent in his words than was apparent to anyone but Sanct’ Germain.

“Yes,” said Sanct’ Germain with full understanding. “I suppose I will.”

Text of a report to Episcus Salvius of Tarraco from Episcus Luitegild of Toletum.

To my most respected and worthy Brother in Christ, my greetings and prayers of thanksgiving that God has spared you from the Great Pox in this time of dreadful trial which must surely mark the beginning of the Last Days and the return of Our Lord to the world He saved.

I was grieved to learn of the death of Episcus Gerundol of Corduba, for it had seemed that God was inclined to spare that city from the Great Pox. When I received word of his Call to Glory, I realized that it was left to us to bear witness to this calamity and the truth of our great teaching that all is in the Hands of God. I have ordered the monks of Sanctissimus Resurrexionem to say Masses for the repose in Grace of Episcus Gerundol’s soul, and the souls of all Christians who have perished. It is the one thing we may do for them now, and the one thing
God requires of us at this time. No one can doubt the importance of worship in the face of such proof of Judgment Day approaching.

It is altogether suitable that religious men put away their wives during this time of preparation, dismissing them to convents, or to the life of service that is the lot of women since the Fall of Eve. As we have been so wisely admonished by Sanct’ Paulus, women are to be silent in their devotion, acquiescent to their husbands and fathers, who have dominion over them. Yet there are those, who, in their zeal to purify themselves, have put the females of their families to death, the better to cleanse themselves before being brought to answer before the Throne of God, for they believe that so long as they have women in their houses, they are stained by the Sin of Eve. Therefore, I have issued a tomus to the Christian men of Toletum not to kill their wives or their daughters, for although no punishment awaits them in this world, God is a strict Judge and there is no blood-money in Heaven. If God wishes to lay His Hand upon the women, then we must bow our heads in submission. But if He spares them, then so must we, and pray for the redemption of women through the Magna Virgo et Mater.

To honor those of Toletum who have died, I have authorized the donation of houses left empty by death to fellow-Christians who lack shelter. This is in accordance with the instruction of the Evangelists, and it has the approval of the Jews, who are most powerful in this city, and who have the position to see to the administration of its laws; they have done much the same for their own people, and I am assured they will not stand in the way of any such distribution among us. In anticipation of a favorable decision, I have submitted lists of available dwelling places which I am informed will be given approval for occupation at once, with one exception: the house of Sanct’ Germain, which he entrusted to Viridia, has been left empty by her death, but as she was not the owner of the house, it must remain as it is until instructions from Sanct’ Germain should reach us, or Ithidroel ben Matthias. It is a shame we can do nothing with the house, for it is handsome and well-fitted-out; had I some notion of where Sanct’ Germain might be found, I would seek out a courier to take a message to him, wherever he may be, and ask that he let his wishes be known. But I have no means to find him: it may be that he, too, has been taken to Grace and if this is so, then his wishes are known only to God, and until they are revealed by vision or prophesy, there is nothing more I can do.

We have been able to provide shelter for over sixty Christian children left without parents or family to care for them. The boys will be apprenticed when masters can be found for them, but it is not fitting they be made slaves, for once sold, they could be made to serve those who are not Christians. This would not do honor to Our Lord. In finding a place for these orphan boys, we will serve God well in this sinful world. The girls will be married to Christians or taken in as nuns, to serve the monks and priests as handmaids and to provide for the comforts of those who have given their lives to Glory.

According to the few travelers who have arrived here since the Paschal season, the roads are more empty than usual, and many are in ill repair, so that those on the road take much longer to reach their destinations than was the case before the Great Pox came. Some of the Gardingi have set to mending the roads and charging tolls for their use. They enforce their claims with armed men, some of whom make demands beyond those of their masters. This displeases many travelers, who already have much to contend with as regards the rigors of travel: to risk all the goods they seek to trade in order to use a good road is a poor bargain for them. It may be necessary to appeal to the Gardingi who have levied the highest tolls to reconsider their actions, for if travelers are so preyed upon, few will hazard the journey to our cities. Those seeking to make a pilgrimage for the good of their souls will also be reluctant to risk being detained and pressed into service of a Gardingio who takes his tolls in vassalage.

I beseech you to consider making a similar stance on behalf of the Christian souls of Tarraco. You, too, are subject to the rule of Exarch and Gardingio. You, too, have long relied on trade to keep your city wealthy and safe. You, too, have a city that thrives on travelers and the goods they bring with them. To permit the Gardingi to do as they wish, taxing and detaining travelers as suits their whims is to grant them a power that could yet compromise our people and our faith. With God’s Aid, we may set an example that will sustain our flock and our Church in these parlous times. I have urged my fellow-Christians to make a stand. If you do not believe that Tarraco, with its seaport, can come to harm because of these policies, I beg you to consider the fate of travelers who seek to bring their goods inland, and who depend on greater markets than the port cities can offer.

May God show you His Will in this and all things. May you always
seek to do the Will of God. May your sons do you honor, and your wife be given a place to serve God in Heaven as she served you on earth. May your city be spared from war and want. May your flock never stray from the path God has set for them. May the examples of the Saints always inspire you and your Christians to the acts and thoughts that are most pleasing to God. May no worldly power hamper you in your devotion to God. May all you do bring Glory to God and favor to you and your flock. May you stand with the Sheep at the Final Day.