‘You know what I did in our need, that I sought the tomb of Brennilis and slept next her bones. You know that hitherto I have kept silence about what dreams came to me; for they were weird and ambiguous, and still am I unsure whether I have seen through to their meaning. But this is what I believe they foretold.
‘The Gods are troubled, even as are we mortals. Therefore They will stay Their anger and at Their appointed time make peace with us, that Ys may abide and keep holy Their names.
‘This is the sacrifice They require. At the Turning of the Sun, one among the Nine shall not be here as always erenow, but must keep Vigil on Sena. She will receive a hard test. If she endures it well, then shall she be purified, and with her the sacred family, Queens, King, and daughters. Thus did I hear the Word.’
Ere anyone else could speak, Vindilis called: ‘I will go!’
Forsquilis shook her head. ‘I fear not. For the Word was that she must bear the morrow beneath her heart. I can only think this means she must be heavy with child.’
To and fro went their looks. Winter solstice was but three months hence; and for most of that span, Gratillon-ius would be gone.
Dahilis swallowed twice or thrice, thereafter said almost merrily, ‘Why, that is myself. Of course I’ll go.’
‘Oh, nay, darling, nay!’ protested Fennalis. ‘You’ll be too near your lying-in. You know how apt we are to be weatherbound yonder, in winter perhaps days on end.’
‘Fear not. As close as I can reckon it, my time will be half a month or more after solstice.’
‘Hm. I’ve consulted records. Both Bodilis and you surprised your mother Tambilis, despite your having different fathers. Early births run in that bloodline.’
Dahilis had attained calm. ‘The Goddess will care for me.’
Hesitantly, reluctantly, Bodilis said, ‘Remember the tradition.’
‘What tradition?’ Dahilis asked, bewildered.
‘You may never have heard. ’Tis a story ancient and obscure. I sought it once in the archives, but too much is missing after centuries, and I could neither confirm nor disconfirm. The story is that Brennilis was born out on Sena. Thereupon a seal gained human voice, to prophesy that any so born thereafter would bring the end of the age which Brennilis was to make begin. It may be a mere folk tale.’
The others hearked back. The law was simply that one and only one from among them must be on the island, save on the high holy days or in periods of peril. She could be any of the Nine; and more than weather worked to keep Vigils out of orderly cycle. There could be strong obligations elsewhere, illness, the frailties of age, advanced pregnancy, evil omens – In spite of every precaution it had happened a few times in the past that a high priestess was dead when her relief arrived; and this called for the same hecatomb against disaster as when a King died in bed.
Sight converged on Innilis. Vindilis held her close, close. She stared out of that shelter and said in a thin tone, ‘I’ve been chosen. Have I not?’
‘It seems you have,’ answered Forsquilis. Compassion stirred beneath steeliness. ‘Take courage. It may be hard, but it shall be glory unto you, and unto your new daughter.’
Innilis blinked back tears. ‘Well, I will go. Gladly.’
Vindilis’s lips brushed her cheek.
‘I have a word further,’ said Forsquilis as though it hurt to talk. ‘In my dreams was a sigil, white-hot from the fire, and it sealed a book with wax made not from honeycomb but from the fat and blood of sacrificed humans.’ To horrified exclamations: ‘Nay, the grisly rites of old are long behind Ys.’ She smiled, briefly and bleakly. ‘Moreover, such a seal would not hold in this real world. ’Twas a sign for me.’
She braced herself before continuing: ‘I have thought, I have sought, I have prayed and offered; and this is how I read the vision. We must pledge our faith beforehand. We must take the Great Oath – by the Ordeal – that we will indeed hold a Vigil at Midwinter, which never was before, and that none shall stand it but she whom the Gods have marked out. Then shall all again be well with Ys.’
Anew the Nine fell mute. They had undergone the Ordeal when they plighted fealty to each other and to their purpose ere they went forth on Sena and cursed their King. That had not happened for generations earlier. They fasted and thirsted and scourged …
Dahilis gripped her belly. Light-boned as she was, the unborn swelled and burdened her. ‘Oh, please,’ she implored. ‘Not me. I could lose her.’
Quinipilis stood up and made a gesture of blessing. ‘I daresay ’tis uncalled for in your case, youngster,’ she said. ‘And in Innilis’s. Your situations are patent.’ Her wrinkled countenance went from side to side, haughtily. ‘As for the rest of us, we can very well endure it again. We
are
the Gallicenae.’
2
His last night in Ys Gratillonius spent with Lanarvilis. This was not by chance. Dahilis was now forbidden him, save for a kiss and a promise, until after she became a mother. The remaining six out of the Nine he had begun visiting in turn, at their homes so that he might at least have Dahilis freely about in the palace during the day. Everybody concerned realized that, for any of numerous reasons, a turn must occasionally be postponed or exchanged. His forthcoming absence was just the first and most obvious example. Still, he had been surprised and somewhat dashed when the message came that it would not be Forsquilis who received him, but Lanarvilis.
He put on civil garb and his best face, to seek her house about sunset. She met him in the atrium sumptuously clad in a low-bosomed scarlet-and-gold gown that flattered her figure, the blonde hair coiled about her head and caught by a garnet-studded silver frontlet. ‘Welcome, my lord,’ she said, and held out a hand.
He took it, as was Ysan style. Thank you, my lady. I regret I could not arrive sooner. Preparations for departure tomorrow sunrise –’
She chuckled. ‘I foresaw, and ordered a supper that would take no harm from waiting. Shall we to it? We’ve much to talk about.’
They went side by side through this most luxuriously appointed of the Queens’ dwellings, past drapes of Oriental opulence, big-eyed Egyptian portraits, exquisite Grecian figurines, and – somehow not incongruous – Roman busts, Marius, Caesar, the first Augustus, Hadrianus, they whose workmanship had shored up, enlarged,
repaired their state. Although the food and wines served in the triclinium were no Lucullan feast, they were excellent. A boy stood in the background softly playing a lyre.
‘My lady is most generous,’ said the King after they were settled.
‘The Gallicenae desired a worthy sendoff for you,’ Lanarvilis answered. ‘We discussed it, and the choice fell on me.’
He sipped from his goblet, a taste rich and tart-edged, as cover for his close regard of her. The countenance – green-eyed, slightly wide in the nose and heavy in the mouth, past the freshness of youth, withal by no means bad-looking – was amply mobile but told him nothing. Best might be if he took the initiative. ‘You do it elegantly,’ he said. ‘However, methinks you were elected for more than the table you set.’
Unsurprised, she nodded. ‘Can you guess why?’
‘Well, you are the closest of the Nine to the mundane affairs of the city. Quinipilis doubtless was once, but her years are upon her. The rest have their special interests. For yours, you occupy yourself with business of the Temple corporation. You are often in conference with Soren Cartagi, who’s not only Speaker for Taranis but a power in the economy and politics of Ys. Hannon Baltisi, too, Lir Captain – you’ve taken a lead in reconciling them with me, or to me. In that it’s helped that you have more knowledge of the Roman world than perhaps anyone else among your people. Were you a man, Lanarvilis, I’d call you a statesman.’
‘You cannot, simply because I am a woman?’ she said in an undertone. Promptly, aloud: ‘Your words do me honour, my lord. Aye, the Sisterhood did feel I might best represent them this eventide – not least because I
am, as you know, favourable to Rome. Rome has given civilization so much – the Roman peace –’
As her voice trailed away, he added, That peace which is falling apart, but which I hope to help restore.’
True. Therefore ’twas felt we should talk freely, you and I. Tell me, for you’ve been taciturn about it, what your plans are for your journey.’
‘If I’ve said little,’ he replied carefully, ‘’twas on account of there being little to say. How can I lay plans ere I’ve learned, in detail, what the actual circumstances are? ’Twould be scant use sending Ysan agents unaccompanied. No matter how honest their intentions, they could never quite see, quite understand.’
She smiled. ‘I do, at any rate to the extent of agreeing ’tis a Roman military man who must go. But can you say somewhat of your aims afterwards?’
He had no hesitation about that, and the meal passed in conversation as good as with Bodilis – not the same, largely down-to-earth, but scarcely less intelligent. The wine flowed more readily than either of them noticed.
– Her bedchamber adjoined a room of blue carpeting, crimson drapes, furniture with inlays of walrus ivory and upholstery of leather. There they went for dessert – honeycakes, spiced fruit, a sweet Falernian to drink – and private talk prior to retiring. They sat together, leaning against the cushions on a couch that had a back, the refreshments on a low table before them. He rested an arm across that back, hand on the warmth and smoothness of her shoulder. She leaned close to him. Several beeswax candles burned; their light picked out the fine lines in her brow and radiating from her eyes, the mesh across the skin beneath her throat; and the flesh under her chin had started to sag; yet she was a handsome woman.
‘Your scheme looks sound to me,’ she said softly. ‘I will
so tell my Sisters, and we’ll ask the Gods to favour your enterprises.’
‘You can do better than that,’ he responded. ‘You can work on the secular powers, Suffetes, Guilds, aye, common folk. If Ys is to take the lead in Armorica that duty calls for, and reap the rewards that faithful service calls for, Ys must be whole-hearted about it.’
‘What can I… we … do?’
‘Persuade them. Make them see ’tis their destiny. You, Lanarvilis, you could begin with Soren Cartagi –’ He felt her stiffen. ‘Why, what’s wrong?’
‘Oh, naught.’ She leaned forward, took up her goblet, drank deep. Staring before her: ‘Soren is an honourable man.’
‘Did I say otherwise? Look you, I’ve always regretted it when we’ve been at odds. I cannot think why. He’s learned, able, aye, and a patriot. He should know where the real welfare of Ys lies. For myself, I’m willing to yield on many matters. But if I seek discussion, he soon breaks it off. What is it that makes him clash with me, over and over? Can you, his friend, milden him?’
‘I can try.’ Again she took a long drink, before turning her head and saying, eye to eye: ‘But you do us, your Queens, an injustice. You never trouble to imagine how we already labour for you.’
Caught short, he had no better return than, ‘What? Well, I know you pray, and … and you tell me ’tis your doing I am here, although –’
‘Nay, more than that, and more. But I verge on secrets.’ Lanarvilis brought her attention back to the cup. Her laugh was uneven. ‘Desist. We’ve been political quite long enough, and morning comes far too early, and you must be away and I to my penance. Let us be happy while we may.’
‘Your penance?’ he asked sharply. ‘What mean you?’
She bit her lip. ‘I misspoke me.’
Concern rose in him. During these past difficult months she had been steadfast, neither toadying nor accusing, just quietly going about her work on behalf of the city and its Gods. Her spirit was a soldier’s. ‘Dear, tell me. Is aught amiss?’
Yea!’ she flung forth. ‘And we must set it aright, we, the Nine. As soon as you are gone … certain austerities begin.’
‘But what
is
the matter?’ he pleaded. ‘I should know, that I may help. I am the King.’
Metal rang: ‘You are the King. A man. Do you admit me into your mystery of Mithras? Then ask no more about this.’
He took a while to say, unwontedly humble, ‘So be it. However, here I am, and here I will be again. Always feel free to call upon me.’
‘Oh, Grallon – Gratillonius!’ She put down her cup and cast arms about his neck. Her breath was heady with wine. ‘Enough, I said. Let’s forget all else and be only ourselves. Surely we’ve earned that much.’
– Very late, as lamps were flickering low, he raised himself on an elbow and looked down at her where she lay half asleep. Drowsiness crept over him too. But the thoughts, the images stole by behind his eyes, before his soul. Of the seven who were fully his wives, might this be the strangest?
Dahilis, of course, was purely loving. Maldunilis enjoyed, in her lazy and slipshod fashion, and was in truth not a bad person. Bodilis was … comradely, altogether a woman when they embraced but otherwise a friend who had a great deal to impart; between him and her he felt bonds of loyalty growing like those between him and his father or him and Parnesius or – With Innilis he came to the frontier of enigma. She was sweet, acceptant, some
times responsive, delighted to be bearing his child … and beyond her defences he glimpsed a shadow, a thing which he could not bring himself to ask about because he was afraid of hurting her. Vindilis seemed (though what was a seeming worth?) a little more comprehensible, whatever wounds she bore being encased in armour, out of sight and never bespoken. About anything else she talked with him like man to man; that included their joinings, where they had found ways which suited him sufficiently and left her, well, not disgusted. Forsquilis – He had looked forward to spending this night beside Forsquilis. Whether or not it was true that a King was powerless except among the Nine, Gratillonius must needs keep abstinent on his coming travels, since Ysans as well as legionaries would accompany him. Forsquilis might actually have made him welcome such a rest. He knew she was the deepest into the unknown of all the Gallicenae; but whenever they were alone, that soon ceased to make any difference.
Lanarvilis, though – He lowered his head to brush lips across the down that covered her cheek, as soft as moonlight. She had learned how to take her pleasure with him, as she took it with her home, art collection, food and drink, the spectacles and recreations and social occasions which Ys so abundantly offered. As for her work in administration and statecraft, doubtless she had a strong sense of duty, but doubtless it was also something she enjoyed, perhaps in the same way as he enjoyed making a piece of craftsmanship grow between his hands. Then what was lacking in her life? From time to time Gratillonius had caught a sense of terrible emptiness. This, too, was a thing about which he did not venture to ask.