Jack of Ravens(48)

‘I understand that the arrogance of your kind is going to result in a little hubris one day.’ Near the door, Jerzy whimpered.

‘The suit that is denied Fragile Creatures is Ravens. The eaters of the dead, the messengers of the gods. The fifth suit provides true contact with the great beyond. And how fitting it is for you – do the ravens still hover at your back, little Jack?’ She stared into Church’s face for a long moment, but her arrogance slowly faded like a light being dimmed. She returned to her cards, her fingers toying with lips grown sad. ‘Any word of my brother?’

‘No. Nothing in the cards?’

‘I see too much. For you, for me, for all Existence.’ She swept the cards aside in a burst of emotion, then turned away from him to look over the rooftops. Church retired to the bed, but as he drifted off to sleep he was sure Niamh was crying.



4



Church met Marcus the centurion in the shadow of the basilica just as night came. The rain was falling again and had driven all the tradesmen and hustlers off the excrement-stinking streets.

‘They allow you to come and go from the fort?’ Church asked as he huddled inside a sodden cloak.

‘I have free passage for the moment. Constantius is ill and minds are exercised elsewhere.’ He glanced up and down the empty street. ‘You have heard about the Ninth?’

‘I’ve heard the rumours.’

‘All true. Fifteen members of an advanced scouting party were slaughtered. Only one escaped, but now he too has died. The Ninth Legion has marched back out of hell and is returning to Eboracum.’

‘And you think this has something to do with your dreams and the reason you’ve been brought together here?’

‘It is the reason. And it may well be linked to your missing god. Secullian conducted a ritual at the theatre after you left. He took hashish, some other spices and herbs unknown to me, and slipped into one of his day-sleeps. And then …’ Marcus tugged at his hood to free the rainwater gathering on top. ‘Something spoke through him. Something evil. It told us the Ninth Legion now belongs to the Kingdom of the Spider, and it is coming to wipe us all from the face of the Earth.’ He swallowed painfully, his mouth dry. ‘Secullian clawed out an eye to escape what was being shown to him inside his head. He is being cared for by the others.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘He will live. Sometimes that is the best we can say.’

Though Marcus still carried the deeply troubled air that Church had sensed immediately when they had met earlier, there was a strength of character to him that Church found reassuring. Clearly, Existence knew what it was doing when it chose its champions. ‘Is your legion planning to ride out to meet them?’

‘Indecision is rife. With the Emperor sick, his advisors are obsessed with omens and portents. The men await orders, but fear runs rampant amongst them. Who in their right mind would want to face a legion of the dead? But orders have been sent to secure the gates. The defences are strong.’

‘You think that’ll be enough?’

‘I think five Brothers and Sisters of Dragons will not be enough to defeat an entire legion, even with a hero of legend at our side.’

‘I’d be the first to agree with that. Any suggestions?’

‘Aula waits in the cemetery beyond the walls to seek aid or advice.’

‘From whom?’

‘Her patron. He will meet her there shortly. But first—’

From three different directions, guards rushed up to grab them. The sound of their approach had been masked by the driving rain.

‘Wait!’ Marcus said. ‘I am Centurion—’

The shaft of a spear glanced his skull and laid him out cold. Church struggled as several arms grasped him, protesting loudly before he too was beaten unconscious.



5



Cold white marble chilled Church’s cheek. The room smelled sweet from perfumes thrown on hot coals. He forced his aching body into a sitting position and squinted around. Thick drapes hung on the walls and exquisitely constructed furniture made by the best local artisans stood all around. Church could see at a glance it was quarters for the wealthy.

An elderly man in a white toga held in place by a gold clasp talked with a quiet intensity to two guards near the door. He exuded power and prestige, but there was a weariness to his features, which had a greyish pallor. When he saw that Church was conscious, he motioned for the guards to leave and poured himself a goblet of wine, before sitting to look down on Church with a degree of suspicion.

‘I have nothing to do with the Ninth Legion—’ Church began.

The dignitary silenced him with a raised hand. ‘I know.’