Jack of Ravens(47)

‘We were all afflicted by terrible dreams in our own mundane worlds,’ Secullian said, ‘dreams that brought us here, where we learned of our destiny as Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, Champions of the Blue Fire, of Existence itself.’

‘What kind of dreams?’

The North African winced. ‘Dreams of spiders.’

‘Swarms of them, streaming out from behind the world around us as if it were a theatre set.’ Decebalus put on a show of bravado, but Church could see the unease behind it.

‘Black spiders,’ Church said. Unconsciously he fingered his scar, recalling what he had confronted in the fogou at Carn Euny, and the thing that had controlled the Redcaps.

Aula touched her brooch again for comfort. ‘The spiders are eating their way through the world,’ she said. ‘Soon there will be nothing left.’

There was a long moment of uneasy silence until Joseph said, ‘We gather here to understand what these portents mean. Will you aid us?’



3



On the way back to the tavern to report to Niamh, Jerzy capered beside Church like a monkey. ‘Good friend, I do not understand,’ he said with frustration. ‘If you help these people in their task, you will not be free to search for the queen’s brother and earn your freedom.’

‘There’ll be time for that later.’

‘The mistress is not a patient woman, and you need your freedom to help your loved one.’

‘Of course that’s what I want,’ Church said, a little more sharply than he had intended, ‘but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s a bigger threat here. How can I turn my back on that?’

When they reached the forum, they were instantly aware of a radical change in the atmosphere. All the cities of the Empire thrived on gossip and rumour treated as news, swapped in taverns, on the street and in the bathhouses. The forum was abuzz with people talking wildly, running from one group to the next to pass on whatever was exciting them. Church could see from the frowns and the muttered prayers that it was not good news.

An overweight tradesman hauling a full amphora stopped as they approached, unable to contain himself any longer. ‘It is indeed the end of the world,’ he gasped.

‘What’s happening?’ Church asked.

‘Then you have not heard? A scout returned this morning from the north. He passed through the city walls and went straight to the fort, speaking to no one. But all who saw him said his face was frozen in fear. And now word has emerged from the legato, or so people say. The Ninth Legion! The Ninth Legion is marching back to Eboracum from the very shores of Underworld.’ The tradesman shuddered, shouldered his amphora and hurried off.

‘Why is he so scared?’ Jerzy asked.

The time of the Roman occupation had been Church’s chief area of study. ‘The Ninth Legion is the most written about of all Rome’s legions. It disappeared nearly two hundred years ago, and in my time scholars are still arguing about what happened to it. There aren’t enough records left to uncover the truth. Some say the legion was disbanded, others that it was reassigned to the Netherlands.’

‘That did not happen?’

‘The last positive sighting we have is that the Ninth marched north from Eboracum to disperse a large group of Celts in Caledonia who had been launching marauding raids on Roman territory. The most famous explanation is that the entire legion of fifteen thousand men was slaughtered while they camped, the bodies burned and the armour melted down to destroy all evidence of their existence.’

‘Then how could the legion be returning today?’ Jerzy asked.

‘It can’t.’ But Church could see that the tension in the forum was not abating. Real terror lay in many faces.

Back at the inn, Niamh sat at the sunlit table next to the window, poring over the cards Church had seen her with outside Carn Euny. Her expression was troubled. They were tarot cards, he noted, but some of them were unfamiliar to him. There were the familiar suits – cups, wands, swords and coins – and he instantly linked them to the four great treasures the Tuatha Dé Danann had brought with them from their distant homes, according to myth: the cauldron of Dagda, which became the template for the Holy Grail; the spear of Lugh; the sword Caledfwlch, which Church had been mysteriously carrying when he was found by Tannis and his men; and the Stone of Fal, which let out a scream when the true king of the land put his foot upon it. Yet as he approached the table he could make out another suit: a bird in flight.

‘What’s that?’ he asked. ‘There are only four suits in the tarot.’

‘In the cards allowed for the use of Fragile Creatures.’ Niamh did not lift her eyes from the complex spread. ‘These cards provide an insight into the workings of Existence. Do you think we would allow their full power to fall into such hands?’ She looked up as if seeing Church for the first time. ‘Five suits. Five. The number of power. Do you not understand anything?’