‘Five is the number,’ the centurion said, ‘and there are five of us already.’
‘You’re Brothers of Dragons?’ It was Church’s turn to be shocked.
‘And sisters,’ the blonde woman said icily.
‘This is too much of a coincidence—’
‘There are no coincidences,’ the young man said fiercely. ‘That is the first rule we are taught. Existence moves us like pieces on a board to where we should be at the right time.’ His eyes blazed with a fierce intelligence. He motioned to Church’s arm. ‘You have a scar?’
Not understanding how the young man could know, Church cautiously revealed the scar where the spider had been in his arm.
The young man blanched. ‘Jack, Giantkiller,’ he said with awe.
‘What are you saying, you little runt?’ Decebalus demanded.
‘Long, long ago, when the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons first emerged from the Blue Fire, my ancestor met the great hero to whom we all owe allegiance: Jack the Giantkiller.’
Church looked into the young man’s face and saw something he recognised in the line of his jaw or the shape of his eyes. ‘Conoran,’ he said. ‘He was your ancestor.’
‘The King of the Land,’ the young man continued, ‘who disappeared across the water to the Isle of Apples, accompanied by the Golden Lady, to return when we needed him most.’
‘And this is he?’ The North African stared at Church in awe before bowing his head.
‘You are Jack, Giantkiller?’ the centurion asked.
‘He is!’ Jerzy chimed in with a note of hysterical relief. ‘A great hero!’
‘I prefer to be called Church.’
Dazed, the young man ran his hands through his ringlets. ‘This is … beyond belief! I never thought I would see the day!’
‘Your ancestor was a good man,’ Church said. ‘He saved my life.’
The young man smiled shyly. ‘My name is Joseph. I am a shepherd in the Church of Christ, and a Watchman. Legends say our society was established by my ancestor before its knowledge spread into all religions.’
‘It was.’ Church recalled his final conversation with Conoran, which was only a few months ago by his reckoning. ‘You have all the secret knowledge of the Culture?’
Joseph nodded. ‘Knowledge of the stars and the animals and all growing things. Knowledge of the Blue Fire that is in everything. Knowledge of all the lands, both here and beyond the veil, and of the beings who reside there, and the threats that humanity faces in coming times. I am here to ensure we are always prepared.’
The centurion shook Church’s hand. ‘I have heard many tales of the Great King Beyond the Water. I am proud to serve you. My name is Marcus Aelius Aquila of the Sixth Legion, stationed here in Eboracum.’
Church was stunned that events he had set in motion had taken on a life of their own, rolling out across the centuries right up to his own time. The others introduced themselves with varying degrees of openness. Decebalus had once been one of Rome’s enemies in Dacia, the region that would become Romania. The Dacians were renowned as fierce, brutal warriors and Decebalus was clearly of that tradition. Even after the introduction, he continued to regard Church with suspicion.
The dark-haired woman was Lucia Aeternia Constans, originally from Rome. Her husband had died in undisclosed circumstances. Decebalus called her strega, which Church knew meant witch’ though he couldn’t tell if it was a description or an insult. She had a seductive though kindly nature and reminded Church a little of Ruth.
The North African was Secullian, another Christian with an introspective nature and a wry sense of humour. He spoke repeatedly of prophecy and magics and how information came to him in what he called ‘day-sleeps’. And finally the blonde-haired woman who was the most closed-off of all of them: her name was Aula Fabricia Candida, born in Britain and married to a scholar now travelling across the Empire. Church couldn’t define her role within the group, but she regularly touched an unusual brooch that featured a circle of interlocking leaves.
‘You have come because of the dreams?’ Marcus asked. ‘Are these the End-Times of which Joseph speaks?’
‘I’m searching for a missing … god.’ Church was unsure how much he should tell them. ‘Do you know anything about that?’
Lucia leaned in. She smelled of exotic perfume. ‘There is talk of gods all over the Empire. They come and go, tormenting people as they always have, making their secret plans over our lives. But not here! Not in Eboracum. And this is a land of many gods, for it is a land of travellers who have stayed awhile and brought their gods with them.’