After the meal they sipped whiskey from the Iron Shield’s flask and talked about trails and river courses. Teo learned that his new friend had taken up the vagabond life many years ago, so he knew the trails well. He lived off the land, doing a little fur trading on the side.
“That’s a nice-lookin’ horse ya got there,” the man said. “Won’t be able to walk in the morning with that wound. Give him a few days rest, though, and he’ll be frisky again—if ya got time to wait.”
“Nice saddle and harness too,” Teo remarked. “Inlaid with silver.”
The vagabond nodded but said nothing. Teo looked at him. Grins spread across both men’s faces as each deduced what the other was thinking.
“My boat?” the man asked.
“And some food. Waybread . . . beans . . . coffee if you can spare it.”
“Sure. I’ll throw in a knife and hatchet as well. A little rusty, but they’ll do. Plus a blanket.”
“If you have any broadheads, I could hunt.”
“Deal. I’m still coming out way ahead on this one.”
“Yeah, you sure are,” Teo said with a laugh.
The two men shook hands good-naturedly and turned in for the night.
The next morning before the sun was up, Teo shoved the boat into the water. The craft was slender and light, a lapstrake canoe designed for wilderness travel. Although the way to Jineve was downstream, Teo knew the Iron Shield could easily cordon off the area and ambush him. One or two men might be evaded, but the Iron Shield had close to three dozen shamans at his disposal. Attempting to return to the city right now would be far too dangerous. Brother Thomas had intended to stay in Jineve for several weeks, working to convert Mayor Calixte—which meant poor Marco would be stuck there without a way home, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. Teo regretted that, yet nothing could be done about it. His only recourse was to disappear. And besides . . .
I have a map to Chiveis!
The idea that he was within a week’s journey of his homeland had never occurred to him. Yet the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He calculated the rough distance he had traveled south from Chiveis to Roma. Now, with the aid of the map, he realized he had journeyed that same distance north—yet not due north. He was a hundred leagues west of Chiveis. But what changed things entirely was that from his current position, no massive glaciers or incredibly tall mountains stood in the way. He had found a way around them. Teo decided that when he brought Ana home, they would use this new, relatively easy route.
Ana! Where are you right now? I miss you!
Teo’s heart ached as his thoughts went to his beloved. His deep longing to be reunited with Ana only strengthened his resolve to find the way to Chiveis right now. Teo intended to make the most of this opportunity while leaving enough time to return to the port of Marsay before the winter storms closed the sea. He imagined what he would say to Ana at their reunion: I’m back, my love, and I have so much to tell you! Yes, yes, the trip was superb. And oh, by the way, your mother and father say hello. Teo laughed at the ridiculous fantasy and paddled harder upstream.
Over the next week he followed the route on the map. He soon reached a spot where another river swung close to the one he was on. Teo had to make the portage between them twice—first with the canoe and then with the supplies—but anticipation strengthened him. On the new river he paddled with the current until it reached a broad inland sea. He steered his canoe into a waterway that led to a second, smaller body of water.
Now Teo began to grow excited. This was the lake with the peninsula he had recognized on the map. As he paddled along the eastern shore and spotted a ruined dam, a rush of memories came flooding back. Teo had crossed that dam in a desperate attempt to catch up to the outsiders who had kidnapped Ana. Later he returned the same way with Ana safe in his boat. How I want to bring her here again! O Deu, let it be!
After portaging around the dam, Teo continued along the Farm River until the shadows began to lengthen. He pressed on through the evening, munching the last of his waybread as he paddled. When the sun went down he kept going under the pale light of the moon.
Teo reached a sharp bend in the river. He lifted his paddle and drifted in the lonely stillness. Everything was silent. Teo’s breath made wisps of fog in the crisp night air. He looked up to his right at a high bluff—the place he first met Anastasia of Edgeton.
“Thank you, Deu,” he whispered.
He was in Chiveis.
Ana poured water into a bowl and washed with a bar of soap that smelled of jasmine. The water was cold against her skin, for the morning was chilly now that it was the tenth month. It’s a whole lot colder in Chiveis right now, she thought as she scrubbed her face. So why exactly do I want to go back there? Ana smiled to herself as she considered it. Though Roma’s climate was warm and sunny, she couldn’t help but prefer the snow-capped peaks and flower-strewn meadows of Chiveis. Why go back? Because it’s home!
She finished her morning ablutions and hung the washrag on a peg, then put on her gown. After opening the curtains to let in the morning sun she nudged the rumpled mass on the second bed. “Get up, sleepy,” she said. “We need to make an early start.”
“Mmmph,” said a groggy voice from under the blankets.
Ana laughed. “I think you just said, ‘Bring coffee,’ right?”
The lump moaned again.
“I’ll be back in a minute with breakfast,” Ana promised as she closed the door behind her.
Vanita Labella was much more coherent when Ana returned with a tray of hard, sweet biscuits and a steaming mug. Vanita sipped the chicory coffee gratefully, then reached for one of the slender, almond-flavored biscuits. She dunked it in her coffee to soften it.
“The ponies are saddled and waiting,” Ana said.
“Pack up,” Vanita answered with her mouth full. “I’ll be ready when you are.”
Ana removed a book securely wrapped in leather and twine from her dresser drawer. She slid it into a nondescript satchel, then covered it with some cosmetics and a small sack of fruit. Nobody would suspect that what appeared to be an everyday handbag actually carried the secret recipe for explosive powder.
The two women set out from the convent on horseback, accompanied by Liber, whose impressive size would make any potential troublemakers think twice. In the wake of the attack by the Clansmen, Ana and Vanita had decided it was too dangerous to leave The Secret Lore of Astrebril unprotected. The seaside convent was shielded only by its obscurity, and the sisterhood had no means of defense against a determined thief. But the basilica of the Christiani was a large and impenetrable building. Surely somewhere within its thick walls the Papa would have a vault to guard the book from any who would misuse its deadly power.
The early morning chill wore off as the sun rose higher. Liber rode at the head of the trio, keeping a sharp lookout left and right. He was obviously enjoying his role as the women’s protector.
“We’re in good hands,” Ana remarked to Vanita. “Look at Liber watching out for us.”
Vanita nodded. “I wouldn’t want to face him when he’s angry and holding a heavy staff.” She glanced at Ana, and the two of them grinned. They had seen Liber fight. Though he wasn’t a warrior by training, his bulk made him a fearsome opponent.
The travelers arrived at a river port. From one of the docks a boat company operated a daily ferry to the city of Roma, which was situated several leagues upriver from the sea.
“The last time I rode this ferry I was with Teo,” Ana told Vanita. “We were coming to Roma for the first time to find the New Testament. I remember being scared. I didn’t know what to expect.”
“I bet you didn’t imagine you’d return a few months later when the Sacred Writing was being printed and distributed all around the city.”
“I know—who could have guessed? Deu has done some amazing things.”
“This way, Stasia,” Liber called in his thick voice. He held out his hand toward a ramp that led onto the r
iverboat.
Ana and Vanita dismounted and gave the ponies to a stable boy along with a few coins. They boarded the ferry and found seats under an awning. At the appointed time the boat shoved off and the rowers began propelling it upstream. Most of the passengers appeared to be businessmen. Ana assumed they were involved in the shipping industry, which would require them to visit Roma’s harbor from time to time.
The ferry docked a few hours later at a pier on the river’s left bank. The place reminded Ana of the time she and Teo had eluded the shaman spies who chased them through the streets. Today, however, the only chasing Ana could discern was the shoppers’ hunt for bargains.
“There’s the bridge up ahead,” Vanita said. The two women and their bodyguard reached it and crossed to the other side. Before long they arrived at the Christiani basilica with its impressive facade and incredible dome.
“I think that building will always amaze me,” Ana remarked.
“Take a good look at it. You never know when it will be your last time.”
As the threesome climbed the front steps they grew quiet. Ana knew Vanita and Liber were recalling the same thing as she: the epic battle that took place in the circular plaza. Ana and Vanita had watched it from the portico, while Liber actually participated in the fighting. Things had come so close to disaster—then Deu provided the victory. Ana felt glad those days were over.
The interior of the basilica was dark and cool. A shaft of sunlight from the dome illumined an altar canopy that stood on spiraled pillars. As the visitors proceeded down the nave, a familiar voice hailed them. Ana turned toward the man who approached.
“Anastasia of Chiveis! Liber! And Lady Vanita Labella—welcome!”
The speaker was robed in white with a gold sash around his waist. Though he wore a hood, it did not cover the self-inflicted scar on his brow that marked his solidarity with all who were broken and downtrodden. As if that were not enough, the fingernails of his left hand were missing—badges of the torture he had endured for the name of Deu. He was the blessed Ambrosius, the Overseer of the Forbidden Zone.
“Greetings, Brother Ambrosius,” Ana said. The three guests exchanged the kiss of peace with the esteemed Christiani priest.
“I am surprised and delighted to see you today,” said the Overseer. “I did not realize you were paying a visit to the city.”
Ana held up her satchel. “We’ve come on secret business.”
“Oh?”
“I have a book that describes how to make the explosive powder. We believe the Clan wants it, so we brought it here for safekeeping.”
“That is most wise. The basilica can provide a measure of safety that your little convent cannot.” The Overseer beckoned with his finger to a brown-robed priest. “Pietro, take this book and secure it in the vault,” he instructed. “Try to avoid being seen by any of the servants. Not all of them are trustworthy.” The man nodded and moved off with his parcel, then the Overseer turned back to his guests with a broad smile. “I must say, it is quite fortuitous you have paid us a visit today! If you will come with me, I will show you a marvel.”
“Gladly,” Ana said.
The visitors followed the Overseer through a series of halls and stairwells to a room filled with bookshelves. At the far end, men with ink-stained aprons were busy setting type for a printing press that used a giant screw to make impressions on the paper.
“Hey, there’s Sol!” Vanita pointed to an old man with long white hair. He hadn’t seen the new arrivals, so Vanita called the name of her childhood teacher. Sol’s face lit up, and he rose from his desk to greet his friends. As he bowed politely, Ana suppressed a smile. She recalled how Vanita had once described Sol as “an overworked old geezer nearing retirement.” Times change, Ana thought, and so does our perspective.
Sol’s wrinkled face was animated as he talked. He described the successful distribution of several costly, high-quality editions of the Sacred Writing. Now the presses were churning out inexpensive copies that the masses could afford. It would be a time-consuming endeavor, yet Sol clearly took delight in it.
“Tell them about the other project,” the Overseer prompted. “I think Anastasia will be pleased.”
Sol grinned as he took Ana by the arm. “You have to see it for yourself.”
Everyone moved to a writing desk by the window. Sol opened a drawer and reached inside, then glanced up at Ana before withdrawing his hand. “Close your eyes,” he said.
Ana complied.
“Now open them.”
Ana looked down at the desk’s surface. A leaf of the finest vellum lay there. The scrollwork around the edge was extraordinary in its detail, and the typeface was elegant. The leaf was a title page that read Versio Secunda Chiveisorum.
“The Second Version of the Chiveisi,” Sol said proudly. “A gift to the people of your land from the Papa at Roma.”
“Sol, it’s wonderful!” Ana understood the significance of the work right away. Teo and Sol had spent months translating the Old Testament into the Chiveisian speech, which they had named the Prima. Now Sol was making a Secunda that would include both testaments—a beautiful new edition to take back to Chiveis.
“Well done, brother,” the Overseer said. “May Deus honor your labors.”
Sol waved off the compliment. “It’s Teofil who deserves to be acknowledged. He did most of the work. That man singlehandedly recovered the Sacred Writing in the Chiveisian speech.”
Vanita leaned toward Ana and said in a low voice, “Careful there, sweetie. If you smile any wider, you’ll break your pretty face.”
Ana blushed and turned to her friend. “I’m really proud of him,” she said.
“You should be,” Vanita replied with a nod and a wink.
“I have something else to show you. Look here.” Sol reached into a second drawer and withdrew an ornate book cover. It was embellished with silver filigree in a foliage pattern. In the middle of the tracery was a blank panel.
“Oh . . . it’s so beautiful!” Ana ran her finger over the delicately wrought silver. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“We envision an embroidered scene of Chiveis in that panel.” Sol heaved his shoulders and let out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, the Roman embroiderers don’t know what your land looks like.”
“I could describe it for them, I suppose.”
Sol shook his head, grinning expansively. “We have a better idea.”
Ana looked around. Vanita and the Overseer were all smiles too. Even Liber seemed to be in on the joke. Heat rose to Ana’s neck and cheeks. “You mean . . . ?” She put her hand on her chest.
“Yes!” Sol cried. “We want you to make it!”
“I do embroider a little bit,” Ana said, taken aback. “But I’m no artist.”
The Overseer gently touched Ana’s shoulder. “Teofil is a master of words, but you have a gift for seeing beauty. This project requires both of your skills. Seek the spirit of Deus, my sister. Let him guide your hand.”
Ana swallowed. “Alright. If you want me to do this, I will be honored to accept the assignment.” She hoped her reply sounded confident, though she actually felt intimidated by the task.
Nevertheless, as the two women were getting ready for bed that night in one of the basilica’s guest rooms, Ana found her mind ablaze with ideas. She sat in front of a mirror, brushing out her hair while Vanita washed her face in a basin.
“I know what scene I’m going to embroider,” Ana said.
Vanita reached for a towel and patted her cheeks. “Tell me.”
“It’s based on a poem I once recited at a competition in Chiveis—a lament for my fallen kingdom. Teo was there that day. He quieted the crowd for me when they wouldn’t settle.”
“That man sure has a way of showing up when you need him.”
Ana smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Always.”
“What will your scene look like?”
“It’ll have snowy mountains in the background. There will be milch cows i
n a meadow with bells on their necks. To me the sound of cowbells is the sound of Chiveis. In the grass I’ll scatter the mountain-star flowers of our kingdom.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen those.”
“They only grow at the highest elevations. One of the stanzas of my poem was, ‘You mountain-stars, so small and white, your blossom shines like snow. Long have you been the folk’s delight! Why do you cease to grow?’ Old grandmothers say if the ehdelveis ever stops growing, the kingdom will fall. I often felt Chiveis had fallen into evil.”
“Just remember, nothing is beyond the reach of Deu.”
Ana paused, then crossed the room toward her friend. Wet strands of Vanita’s hair dripped onto her shoulders. Ana took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you for being an encouragement to me,” she said.
“No, Anastasia, thank you. Thank you for leading me to the one true God.” Tears welled up in Vanita’s eyes. The sight of them made Ana choke up as well.
Vanita sniffled and gave an embarrassed laugh as she looked away. “Is there anything else in your scene?”
“Yes, one more thing.”
“What?”
“My poem was called ‘The Turtledove Who Could Not Fly.’ It described how evil creatures that symbolized the gods had nothing to teach the little bird. Some of them even persecuted it. That’s why the poem ended on a sad note. But in my scene for the Secunda, I’m going to put a turtledove soaring above the mountains.”
Vanita caught Ana’s eyes. “How come?”
“Because I’ve finally learned to fly,” Ana said, “and I believe someday Chiveis will too.”
The sun was up, the sparrows were chirping, and the sky seemed bluer than normal. Teo was in good spirits, for he was home.
Well, not quite home, he reminded himself. Remember—you’re under a death sentence.
While living in Chiveis, Teo had belonged to the Fifth Regiment of the Royal Guard, a renowned military unit posted on the frontier. As a captain he had been assigned his own rooms at the regional headquarters along the Farm River. He also had a bedchamber at the University of Chiveis, where he was a part-time professor. But now Teo was neither soldier nor scholar. He was a criminal, wanted by the state for heresy and high treason. That meant he’d have to stay anonymous.
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