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dreamed- From her own courage was seeded the courage and hope of Salmon fham. Each of them challenged the iron and proved stronger. Let Well warn of the end;

where was there fhain like hers, even Gawse's? Nae, thev were a wolf pack now. Let tatlfolk step aside when they grazed in good lowland pasture. There would be increase and child-wealth, the tightness would go from Cru's infre- quent smile, and Padrec, whose magic did it all-who would think it?-would wear the marks of thain and a Prydn name beside his own. As he renamed her, so she would return it. Padrec Raven, tor truly only a gift from the gods could so defy them.

Her sharp eyes picked out the male bulk lumbering to the palings and looming out over them.

"Naiton?"

"I am Naiton," he roared back. "Who catis me? Is it the little bitch dog I marked with iron but a day gone?"

"Be Dorelei Mabh, Naiion- Let thee remember mv name. The mark of thy weak magic fades on me even as thy power in the land. See what I hold in my hand."

At Dorelei's sign. Cru and Padrec moved their mounts forward to flank her on either side; ihen the three of them drew nearer to the stockade. Dorelei held up the iron arrowhead.

"See, Naiion tallfolk?" she challenged. "Iron be tamed.

From this time will be fhain's as well."

"Thai is a trick that it is. Not iron at all but a stone."

Naiton was bluffing. Dorelei heard the hesitation in his deep voice. "Come down and see. Here." She tossed the broken arrow to the ground. "Will leave'! for thee when Taixali Find the courage to come out."

"It is no trick, Naiton," Padrec called. "The magic of Jesu, the Son of God, houses these people like a fortress.

Iron has long since bowed to Christ and bent in the shape of His holy sign. Now it is friend to Prydn, no longer yours alone. Let that teach you caution if not kindness, Naiton."

Dorelei barely turned her head. "Cru."

Cru's bow came up. Naiton had no time to duck, but the shaft was not aimed to kill; it merely drove into the palings within his reach.

"Gern-y-fhain has said." Padrec's voice rang like a .

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clear doom in the winter stillness. "And as sign she sends the last bronze arrow you will ever see from her. If you trouble her further, the next wit! be of iron. And closer."

Dorelei laughed easily. "Will go now, Naiton. And send thee no harm, as thee will not to us. But this magic will go out to enfold all Prydn. Think no more to put iron as a bar in my path. Or if thee must, put a price on the iron, for fhain will buy it."

Dorelei turned her pony and moved away across the snow through the line of her people. Her heart sang with the victory. Other fhains would hear of this. The magic would go forth to all of them. Behind her she heard Naiton say something, then the music of Padrec's strong voice; "Oh, Naiton, Naiton-why be enemy where you can be friend? Don't you know a queen when you see one?"

Dorelei rode on. If a queen, he made her one. Mother and Lugh, but she loved the man. She would love him.

IV.

Rod into Snake

In the forum of Prince Mar- chudd's palace, Meganius mused back and forth beneath

the raised statue of Mercury to one side of the dais. The forum was empty save for himself, leaving his whole atten- tion to the grubby scrap of vellum covered with minute Latin. He'd read it several limes, but Father Patricius'

references were as unfamiiiar as his extremes were trou- bling. The letter must remain confidential.

He was searching a shelf for a map when Prince Marchudd exploded into the chamber, rushed as always, hurrying to him.

"1 thank the courtesy that makes your grace ever punctual. The rest of my council will be tardy as usual, and I need your excellent common sense."

Meganius went on rummaging through the rolls on the shelf. "Ever at my lord's service. Is it the new Coritani raids?"

"Yes, yes. The war will come. It is coming."

"You will march against them?"

"Wouldn't I love to," Marchudd ground between his teeth, "and won't I just, when I've got something like a legion. For now I can only demand repayment of the cattle. What are you looking for?"

"A map of the north, if there is one."

"Not much there, but-yes." Marchudd drew a roll from a neat stack. "The problem is preparedness. We haven't had anything tike a real legion for twenty years,

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156 since Constantine look the lot to Gaul and promptly lost most of them."

In British tunic, freed of Roman dress, Marchudd didn't fidget as much but still moved restlessly about the chamber, half his mind on the problems of the next hour, the next day. "The so-called Sixth Legion is a feeble joke now. I've got to rebuild it."

Meganius knew the Coritani as well as Marchudd.

"And I doubt the heathen will come to terms."

"I know they won't," Marchudd snapped. "We'll play the old game, and I'm very good at it. They'll delay, I'll insist. They'll haggle, and I'll prepare. And no two of my council have the same idea how to proceed. You know young Ambrosius?"

"The tribune, Aurelianus? I know his family."

"I daresay. Well-connected whelp. Kinsman to the Do- bunni prince. My legate pro tern. the only reasonable excuse for a commander I've got." Marchudd bounded up onto the dais and dropped into one of the two chairs, one booted foot crossed over the other knee and jiggling furiously. "A boy! Barely into his gown of manhood, barely twenty. Com- petent enough, but he's telling me how to reorganize the legion. In faith, 1 could form a cohort from military messiahs alone. They come along every day. Aiae, no less."

"My lord?"

"Cavalry: that's the sweat from Ambrosius' perfervid genius." Marchudd vented a bark of derisive laughter.

"Have you ever seen that dismal lot of errand runners and donkey drivers? The tribune will be in council today, and I tell you under the rose, don't listen to his cant, Meganius.

I put my faith in the foot legion."

"Yes, quite." Meganius sal on the edge of the dais, spreading the map before him. "Though I don't imagine the Coritani will fight in neat formations."

"The foot legion can take and hold high ground,"

Marchudd recited as to a student. "Once taken, they can fortify it in a few hours."

"Once taken."

"And defended while they build, that's the crux- Archers."

The bishop was not a military thinker, but it seemed reasonable. "Ah, yes?"

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