He grumbled over the dismal lot of an envoy and the insanity of Drusi Dismas, before the Roman of him as- serted itself with the cool judgment that would one day make him emperor of Britain. Make we of it all. Play the game their way, but be the player. Fine horsemen and archers, quicker-mettled than the Venicones. You need only the right line.

In a small bower borrowed for the occasion, Padrec 201.

sat on a low stool, eyes shielded with one hand while Drust knelt beside him.

"How long since thy last confession?"

Always difficult for Drust to think in measured time.

"Two days."

"And what sins since then?"

A recollective silence. Drust honestly thought on it.

"None, Padrec. But would have thy blessing anyway."

Probably true; just as true that pride m spiritual pu- rity could be the subtlest sin, but Drusi would confess the smallest things. Since none of them could really think in terms of sin, Padrec had devised a simpler question to help them along.

"This moment before God, Drust, and His ear turned to thee, how dost feel in thy heart?"

The sigh of contentment was quite genuine. "Good, Padrec."

"In all things?"

"All. Father-God andJesu love me, and Guenloie. Did feel the warm wealth between us on the hill. Be happy."

"No fear or sin goes with thee to the cage?"

"What fear?" Drust's ciear laugh was honesty in sound.

"Have nae seen the magic that holds me in a's hand? Nae, look on me, Padrec-" Drust sniffed delightedly at his hands and arms. "Do smell of heather and Guenloie."

"Brother, thee need not do this."

"Would show faith to Venicones."

"God knows thy faith and treasures it."

"But Venicone tatifolk do not. Being slow of wit, a must have clear lessons. Nae fear, Padrec. God and Guenloie be about me." Drust looked radiant, exalted. He bowed his head expectantly. "Say the magic."

"Te absotvo in nomine Patri et Fili et Spiritus Sanctus.

Thee has taken the Body and Blood of Christ into thine own. Go and pray for me."

"Will." The boy jumped up as if he were going to breakfast rather than bloodshed. Then his smile faltered to a shade less certain. "Do remember one sin. The Ro- man Ambrose has braw horse. Did have passing thought to borrow't."

Padrec ruffled the boy's silky hair. "Nae. hast not horses enough?"

202 "Aye . . . but Cm would. Do miss Cru."

"So do 1, Drust."

"Yah! Come, Padrec. Watch thy brother show God to dogs and other Venicones."

The baiting pit was a wicker enclosure anchored to stout posts with a kennel inside. The three hounds were huge, misshapen and scarred. They looked to Padrec like animated lumps of malevolence with fangs at one end.

Rof quivered at the sight and smell of them, hackles ris- ing, whining in his throat. The pit was already circled two and three deep with eager spectators when Drust came forth-Venicones, Romans, and as many Prydn who could wriggle between larger bodies.

"Roman-men give four pieces of silver to one on the dogs," Artcois chortled to Malgon. "Ai! Could we not scrub them clean an't were not forbid byjesu!"

Malgon only prayed earnestly thatjesu was in a mood for miracles. He crushed his brother husband in a protec- tive hug. "Jesu be with thee."

"Where else?" Drust shrugged innocently. He kissed Guenloie and knelt to Padrec and Dorelei for their bless- ing. From across the pit, where Vaco's men prodded the dogs to snapping fury with long poles, the elder called, "Is the holy one ready?"

"Ready!"

Drust put his palms to Dorelei's belly, received Padrec's benediction, and nodded to the grinning Venicone at the cage door. Guenloie held on to him as long as she could, her hand sliding along his arm as her husband moved away.

"Thee was beauty in the heather, Drust."

He stepped through the open gate. It closed behind him. Three Venicone youths hauled on the ropes that opened the kennels. The three brutes shot forward. A sibilant rush of breath burst from the crowd. One hand white-knuckled on the wicker, Padrec saw the moment as lethal contrast: the stillness of Drust and the dogs coming like missiles. God, what you did for Daniel, do it now.

Before the oh of released tension died away, the plung- ing hounds skidded to a clumsy halt before the unmoving figure.

They were confused.

203.

They inched closer, snarling. Drust's gaze was fixed on the ground at a spot just in front of the nearest dog.

The brute pranced and writhed in a display of fury but came no closer. Gradually the pitch of their challenge dulled to bewilderment. Small-brained murder had pro- pelted them at the figure, but their sense of smell gave them no familiar message. From humans and their own kind they knew the scents of danger and fear; that it was absent now disoriented them. The creature did not run, did not threaten.

They were kept brutes, lacking the complex memory that enabled their distant wolf-kin to survive. Faced with quandary, they hesitated and looked for a second sure sign of danger, the hands. To them, the hand was an entity in itself, dealing food and pain. When the palm was down, its smell denied them, there was potential danger.

These were turned up, empty and devoid of the fear smell.

Watching, part of his mind always on his own pur- poses, Ambrosius turned to the squat young aide beside him. "The odds are too long."

"I gave four to one."

"Pity. Even monev."

"No."

"Watch."

Confused by a hundred hooting voices, the rattled hounds settled into a stiff-legged circling about the stone of Drust, the rumble in their throats a questioning sound now. They found no clear signals. If the creature bolted or attacked, they would tear its throat out. They relied mainly on smell, and this one confused them, rich with male and female alike, mingled with the trace of sheep and heath, alt neutral to the dogs but compounding the enigma. Hackles high, one of the stiff-walking brutes minced forward, muzzle stretched out to sniff warily at the un- moving hand.

"Even money," Amhrosius said again. The boy was beautiful. Useful.

Confused by anomaly and shouting voices, the dogs gave it up- Their small concentration diffused, they snuf- fled about the earth of the pit for any sign to follow, finding old food traces and their own urine smell but

204 Parks Godwin

nothing else. When they had quite forgotten Drust, he made his first sound, a low, reassuring whistle.