Drust whimpered with the jagged wound in his shoul- der, squeezed against Malgon's chest. "Say the magic for me, Padrec, while be time."

"Will not need it. Will live long to have more wealth with Guenloie."

Urguist dead, two boys from Reindeer dying. There was a sick color to the dying. A man learned to recognize it.

"Where was God?" Malgon burst out. "Where a's magic?"

"Surgeons!"

Drust reached up to pat his brother's hand. "Jesu knows did take this hill for Him. Be a's children." Only wound shock in Drust, wearing off into pain, but no bitterness. "Would nae let us die forgotten, would a, Padrec?"

/ can't answer you, can't even pray, I've forgotten the words.

Let God do it, if He's home.

"Priest!"

Padrec looked up out of his dull hating to see Gallius Urbi standing over him, weaving with fatigue, sword bent, his armor torn and splashed with hlood.

"Right then, you little bastards, we did it. You started it, we nnished it, and devil if I know how. You're not soldiers, any of you. Rutting fools. Savages."

"Where were you?" Padrec peered up at him with the dull patience of exhaustion. "Why did you wait?"

"I was right behind you fools if anyone was. Jesus-"

"Too far behind." that Lazarus voice denied- "You've killed us. Why did you wait?"

"What did you expect?" Gallius exploded. "It was insane, even Ambrosius saw that- No one could go in like that."

266 "We did. Why did you wait?"

"Wait, is it?" Gallius still stung with shame for those loo real moments of hesitation in the ditch when he found his courage, like most men's, a thing of seasons. "Wait?

We went as soon as we got the order, mad as it was. Don't put it on me, priest. It wasn't me."

Malgon considered the upended spear quite within his reach. He laid Drust's head gently on the ground.

"You waited Eoo long," Padrec croaked. "This is what's left of us because you-"

"All right then," Gallius flung back. "Go on, run to the trib and tell him. That blood on your sword's the first you've seen since we started and probably the last."

"Gallius, please." Padrec got to his feel with difficulty, wavering on his bad leg. "Get the surgeons over here.

They see us. Do that much at least."

"When it's your turn, priest. After the better men you got cut up in there." Gallius threw one last contemptuous glance at Padrec's people. "After the humans."

Gallius started away.

Malgon moved like a shadow. As the spear poised at his shoulder, Padrec wrenched it from his grip. "No!" For an instant he stood, wobbling on his injured leg, hearing the sound of their pain around him. Betrayed, all of them.

The spear sent its own judgment to his hand and arm, and Padrec obeyed.

"Gallius!"

When Ambrosius and his praefect reached them, they were still sitting by their own dead. Malgon had frugally salvaged the scale armor from Gallius, who would no longer need it. They ignored the stunned tribune, keen- ing with that indescribable teeth-on-edge sound. Only Padrec stood apart, a ruin in sunlight.

Ambrosius Finally found his tongue. "Patricius, what... ?

Oh, shut them up. Make them be stiil, you hear me?

Patricius. . . ?"

But the priest's voice rose with the others. His eyes were quite mad.

AMBROSIUS AURELIANUS at Churnet Head, to CAIUS MEGANIUS, bishop of Eburacum- 267.

Your grace, I enclose the last letter of Father Patricius, written when I relieved him of duty along with the remnant of his command. I trans- mit his letter with the seals unbroken. Since Patricius killed his superior officer, I had no choice but to put him and the others in irons.

Your grace, many things happen on a battlefield that will never be Just or even clear to reason.

This is to inform you that, as legatus pro tern of VI Legio, I will not oppose Church immunity in this case. For the time, I had to condemn him even as he was put aboard the invalid train bound for Wye.

Meganius mourned over the laconic enclosure from his priest that might have been posted from a suburb of hell. He learned indirectly of the outcome through field dispatches to Marchudd. It was plain that Rhiwallon's need for immediate vengeance overbalanced his judgment.

AMBROSIUS AURELIANUS at Churnet Head, to MARCHUDD RHYS, princeps Parisii et Brigantes-

My lord, today the wagon train of wounded bound north for Wye was ambushed and taken by Coritani raiders. Naturally we are in pursuit. I will not allow this insult to yourself or VI Legio, but we must assume that all the wounded are dead. Since Father Patricius was among them, I trust my prince will speed my condolences, et cetera, to his grace.

Et cetera. So easily elided. There's an agile conscience, Meganius noted acerbically. Of course he would have claimed Church immunity for Patricius, moved all of Brit- ain and Auxerre had there been time.

Most like Ambrosius would never think to number rape among his virulent sins.

The Coritani moved from wagon to wagon, finishing off the tailfolk wounded. The Prydn were reserved from

268 the ordinary slaughter. Eight of them were put on the wagon, three died before the blue-painted men rode down on them. Near their tree, the two dying boys from Rein- deer fhain lay where their captors dumped them. The great dark-browed Rhiwallon had a special interest in Prydn.

It seemed superfluous: two dying, Padrec cloudy in his wits, Drust like to die if his shoulder was not tended.

They were going to die: not meaningless to Drust and Malgon, but not the whole of their concern. Before they came to Christ, they were children of earth. All things went back to Mother. But Padrec had left them; not the body but the soul of the man they knew. He lay like a sack against the tree, chained as they were. When they tried to give him water, most of it dribbled down his lips into the overgrown beard. His eyes moved now and then. They wondered if Padrec knew what was happening. Going to happen.

"Dost pain, brother?" Malgon asked gently of Drust-

"A feels hot."

Festering. The poison would reach Drust's heart if the wound weren't treated. Malgon would not speak of that, but happier things. "Lambs wilt be fat in new pasture now. When Finch sings, where will a rade, thee think?"

"North among Atecotti. Grass be good this year."

"And Guenloie will carry wealth a-sling through win- ter, but will a nae be walking afore Bel-tem'1"

"For sure."

"Braw bairn," Malgon remembered softly. "And wife.

Guenloie could be dumb as sheep sometimes. . . ."