King's Dragon
“‘And the blessed Daisan told them, “You will receive power when an angel bearing the Divine Logos, the Holy Word of God, comes upon you. You will bear witness for me in Saïs, and all over Dariya and even into Arbahia, and away to the ends of the earth.”
“‘When he had said this, as they watched, he was lifted up and a cloud removed him from their sight.
“‘Then they returned to Saïs from the hill called Olivassia, which is near Saïs, no farther than a Hefensday journey. Entering the city they went to the house where they were lodging: Thecla, Peter and Matthias and Thomas, Lucia and Marian and Jahanna. All these were constantly in prayer together.
“‘This was then the day called Pentekoste, the fiftieth day after the Ekstasis and the blessed Daisan’s Translatus into the heavens. On this day while they were all together, there came suddenly from the sky a noise like that of a strong driving wind, which filled the house where they were sitting. And there appeared to them tongues like flames of fire.’”
“Even the Eika?” Alain asked. “Or the Lost Ones? Or the goblins who live in the Harenz Mountains?”
“Even they,” she replied solemnly. “For it is not our part to judge which kind may enter the Chamber of Light and which may not.”
Alain thought of Fifth Brother. He thought of how he had told the Eika prince the story of the Ekstasis and Daisan’s Translatus up into the heavens. But the prince could not understand Wendish. And yet … that story had caused the prince to speak his first word to Alain, to betray both that he could speak and that he had an intelligence that understood and sought speech. It had caused the prince, savage that he was, to attempt friendship, of a kind.
“Go on,” said Antonia, her eyes shut as the servingwoman drew the cloth away from her face. “Read on, child.”
He swallowed and glanced at Agius, but the frater had placed his forehead on his clasped hands and was staring at the carpet. Licking his lips nervously, Alain went on.
“‘Now there were living in Saïs peoples of every nation under heaven, and because of this miracle a crowd gathered, and they were all amazed and perplexed.
A cleric entered and leaned to whisper in Antonia’s ear. She smiled kindly and made a gesture, then rose herself. “We have a new guest in our tent tonight,” she said. As she turned, the entrance was pushed aside and Cleric Heribert, accompanied by two guards, led Constance into the tent. Behind him came servants carrying a wooden pallet and feather bed.
In the intervening days Constance had lost her biscop’s vestments. Alain did not know if she had given them up or if they had been taken away from her. Her face, at least, was unmarked by signs of physical coercion.
“My blessed sister,” said Antonia, coming forward. Constance extended a hand, as if she meant Antonia to kiss it, but Antonia merely clasped it fondly, as she might the hand of a kinswoman. If this impertinence irritated Constance, she did not let it show. After all, Sabella had taken her biscophric away from her and by that standard Biscop Antonia now stood above her in the church’s hierarchy, if not in that of the world. Even in her biscop’s vestments Constance had worn the gold torque that marked her as born of royal kin; in simple deacon’s robes she wore it still.