Avalon - Priestess Of Avalon Part 17

When the basin had been brought, and the lamps positioned so that their light swirled in a liquid glitter on the surface of the water, I instructed Philip to make sure we would not be disturbed. He looked disapproving, and I remembered that the Christians were forbidden to seek pagan oracles, though in their own meetings it was said that sometimes young men and women would see visions and utter forth prophecies.

When he had gone, I unbound the fillet that hid the crescent upon my brow, and loosened my hair from its knot so that it tumbled down about my shoulders. Maximian swallowed, his eyes widening.This one is still close to the earth , I thought, lowering my gaze.His soul remembers the old ways .

Docles's eyes were hooded, his features unreadable. I admired his control. But Constantius was gazing at me as he had when first I came to him by the Beltane fire.Look well , I said silently.For nigh on fifteen years I have ruled your household and shared your bed. Have you forgotten who and what I am ? Abashed, he looked away, and I smiled.

"Very well, gentlemen, I am ready. When I have blessed the water, I will gaze into its depths, and when I begin to sway, you may ask your questions."

I cast a little salt into the water, consecrating it in the old tongue of the wizards who had come to Avalon from the drowned land across the sea. Then I leaned forwards so that my hair hung down about the bowl like a dusky curtain, and let my eyes unfocus, gazing within.

Light rippled across the dark surface as my breath stirred it. With an effort of will I controlled my breathing, in and out, ever more slowly, sinking into the rhythm of trance. Now the light on the water flickered in time to my breathing. Awareness narrowed to this circle of light in darkness, water and fire. I suppose that by that time my body had begun to move as well, for from what seemed an immense distance away I heard someone calling me.

"Say then, seeress, what shall come to the Empire in times to come. Will Numerian and Carinus rule well?"

The light on the water flared. "I see flames..." I said slowly. "I see armies that harry the land. Brother against brother, an emperor's funeral pyre... Death and destruction will come of their reign."

"And what comes after?" came a new voice that some part of my mind recognized as that of Docles.

But already the scene before me was changing. Where I had seen bloodshed now lay peaceful fields.

Words came to me.

"All hail to the Emperor who is blessed by Fortune. One becomes four, and yet the first is the greatest still. For twenty years he will reign in glory, Jupiter with Hercules at his side, and Mars and Apollo serving him.

"The son of Jupiter is here, but you will bear another name. Your strong right arm bears witness, and another, who blazes like the sun. Only Mars is missing, but when you have need of him he will appear.

Fear not to seize the moment when it comes. You will rule in splendour, Augustus, and die full of years, having at length released the sceptre to younger hands...'

"And what comes after?" This voice was golden, blazing in my mind with its own light.

"The son of the sun rules in splendour, but sets too soon. And yet a brighter dawn shall follow, and a new sun shall rise whose light will blaze across the world."

Light blossomed within my vision, shaping itself to a face I knew. Constantius, I thought, for a fair beard fringed the strong line of the jaw. But the face was altogether more ma.s.sive in structure, with a long nose and eyes deeply set under the curve of the brow, a face of such stubborn strength it made me a little afraid.

Then this vision also, faded. I sagged forwards and my hair touched the water. Then Constantius had his arms around me, holding me as I shuddered with reaction. I opened my eyes, and as I tried to focus, the after-image of my vision superimposed itself upon a shape that was emerging from the darkness of the doorway.

I blinked, and realized it was Constantine. How long had he been standing there? And how much had he heard? I sat up, suddenly aware of how I must look to him, with my hair unbound, my eyes dazed with trance. I stretched out one hand towards him in an unvoiced plea. For a moment longer he stood there, on his face an expression half-avid and half-appalled. Did he think I was like Alexander the Prophet? My eyes filled with tears as he turned and disappeared.

"Lady," said Docles in his deep voice, "is it well with you? You have given us a great blessing." His face had its usual calm, but his eyes shone. In Maximian's face I saw something almost like fear. I looked from one to the other, knowing that all three would wear the purple one day.

"Only if you make it so," I whispered, remembering how the last two emperors had died.

"You have told me what I needed to know," answered Docles. "Constantius, take your lady to her chamber. She has done us good service this night and should rest."

"And what will you do?" asked Maximian.

"I shall return to Numerian and wait. Jupiter smiles upon me, and will make my way clear."

In the months that followed, all seemed confusion. In November of that year, Numerian died. Docles seized the opportunity, accusing the Praetorian Prefect, a man called Arrius Aper, of having poisoned him, and executing him on the spot. The next thing we heard was that the army had acclaimed him Emperor. But he had changed his name, and now he was calling himself Diocletian.

Carinus, who was a good commander when he put his mind to it, roused himself from his debaucheries to defend his throne, and Roman warred against Roman once more. Maximian and Constantius declared for Diocletian and prepared to hold the West against Carinus. But when the compaigning season opened the following spring, the G.o.ds, or perhaps it was Nemesis, decreed against another lengthy civil war. In the confusion of a battle a tribune whose wife Carinus had seduced seized the opportunity to slay his commander and take his own revenge.

Diocletian was now supreme. His first act was to name Maximian as his junior colleague. And that summer, when the new Caesar, who had appointed Constantius to be his praetorian prefect, was busy dealing with the latest incursion of Germans, Diocletian sent a letter requesting that my son Constantine join his household in Nicomedia.

Constantine's bedchamber was strewn with gear and clothing. I paused in the doorway, arms full of linen undertunics fresh from the clothesline. In such confusion, it seemed impossible that all this gear would be packed and ready by tomorrow's dawn. A brief fantasy of a midnight raid to steal the baggage played through my imagination. But no attempt to delay my son's departure could achieve more than a momentary confusion, and Constantine was of an age to be embarra.s.sed by his parents even when they were acting sensibly. Even Constantius, had he been at home, could not have resisted an imperial command.

"Has your bodyservant packed your woollen leggings?" I asked, handing the tunics to the maidservant to add to the pile.

"Oh, Mother, I won't need those old things. Only peasants wear them: I'd look like a peasant parading through Diocletian's marble halls."

"I remember very vividly just how cold it got in Bithynia, the year we lived in Drepanum, and imperial halls are likely to be draughty. If it is cold enough for you to wear the leggings, I a.s.sure you that you will also be wearing enough outer gear to hide them from view."

The young Gaul we had bought to be Constantine's body-servant when he turned thirteen looked from one of us to the other, comparing frowns, then turned towards the chest that held the things his master had intended to leave behind.

"Come with me, Constantine, and let us leave the slaves to their work. Here, we will only get in the way." In truth, I would have preferred to pack his gear myself, with a blessing on each garment as I put it in, but that was something that otherscould do. No one else could tell my son what was in my heart.

Gravel crunched softly beneath our feet as I led him to the garden and sat down on a bench carved from the local reddish stone. The summer had been a good one, as if the G.o.ds were blessing Diocletian's reign, and the garden was bright with flowers.

But soon enough, they would fade. And in the morning my son would be gone. I had thought to have five years more before I lost Constantine to the army, time enough for Atticus to train his mind, and for me to awaken his soul. Con was tall for his age, his muscles developed by exercise. He would be able to meet whatever physical demends might come.

But he still viewed the world with a child's rigid convictions regarding right and wrong. Diocletian might well be the most virtuous emperor since Marcus Aurelius, but his court would be a hotbed of intrigue.

How could I armour my son against it without myself compromising his innocence?

"Don't be sad, my mother-"

I had not realized how my face betrayed me. I managed a smile. "How can I not be? You know how much I love you. You are a man, and I knew that you must leave me one day, but this seems very soon."

I was choosing my words carefully, for it would not do to frighten the child, since this separation must be.

"When the letter first came, I was frightened too, but now I want to go," said Constantine. "But I will not forget you, Mother. I will write to you every week, as surely as the sun shines above!" He lifted a hand as if calling on Apollo to bear witness.

I gazed at him in surprise, for that oath had been spoken with adult sincerity.

"It will not be easy," I told him. "There will be new things and new people, exciting things to do..."

"I know-" He paused, searching for words. "But kindred are important, and since you have no other children, I must be your whole family."

My eyes filled with tears. "Would you have liked brothers and sisters?"

Constantine nodded. "When I am a man I want a big family."

"I am sorry I was not able to provide them," I said with difficulty. "But I always thought that the purpose for which the G.o.ds had put me in this world was to give birth to you."

His eyes rounded, for I had never spoken of this so explicitly before. "Do you believe that my stars have ordained some great destiny?"

I nodded. "I do. That is why I have been so concerned about your education."

"Perhaps living at the court of Diocletian will be part of it," Constantine said soberly.

"Oh, I am sure that it will." I tried to keep the bitterness from my tone. "But will it be what you need? I had hoped to teach you something of the Mysteries in which I myself was trained when I was young."

Constantine shook his head. "I do not think I am meant for a priesthood. When I am grown I will enter the army and command troops, or perhaps even a province, in time. I think I would do well at that, don't you?"

I suppressed a smile. Certainly he did not lack for confidence. I wondered if he, too, saw himself wearing the purple one day. Carinus had been an appalling example of the dangers of gifting a man unprepared for it with imperial power. My son might well be right to think that he could learn much from the Emperor if that was his destiny.

"If you rise high, Constantine, you must never forget that the G.o.ds are still above you, and theTheos Hypsistos , the Power that is beyond the G.o.ds. You must seek to fulfil their will for the people you rule."

"I understand that," he said confidently. "The Emperor watches over his people as a father rules his family."

I lifted one eyebrow. Apparently the boy had thought about it, and perhaps he had reason. His father had almost become heir to the Empire, after all. Constantine might well dream of an imperial diadem.

"The sun watches over me, just as He does my father." Constantine patted my shoulder. "Do not be afraid for me."

I took his hand and held it against my cheek. My son certainly had the confidence to make his way in the world. Only later did it occur to me to wish that he had possessed a little more humility.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

AD 293-296.

"The court has become ever more splendid," Constantine's large script straggled across the page. In the eight years since he had gone to join the Emperor's household he had no doubt learned many things, but elegant handwriting was not one of them. I shifted the page so that the wavering lamplight fell full upon it. The house which Constantius had rented for me in Colonia Agrippinensis was elegant, but not quite proof against the winds of a German spring.

"A simple salutation is no longer enough, when one approaches the Emperor. Ourdeus et dominus, Diocletian, now requires a full prostration, as if he were the Great King of Parthia instead of the Augustus of Rome. But I must admit it is all very impressive, and the foreign amba.s.sadors appear to be appropriately awed ."

Maximian, thank the G.o.ds, remained the same bluff, hearty soldier he had always been, even though he was now co-Augustus with Diocletian. But no one could doubt which of the two was the senior partner.

Diocletian's coins bore the image of Jupiter, while those of Maximian were adorned with the muscular form of Hercules.

But even if Maximian had been inclined to indulge in ceremony he would have been too busy to do so.

The year he became Augustus, Carausius, the Menapian admiral they had appointed to defend Britannia from Saxon raiders, had been charged with misappropriating the spoils. Rather than stand trial in Rome he had rebelled and proclaimed himself Emperor of Britannia. The man was a brilliant seaman, who had roundly defeated not only the Saxon pirates, but the fleet Maximian sent against him. After that, our forces had been fully engaged with incursions of Franks and Alamanni in the east, and slave rebellions in the west of Gallia, with no time to worry about Britannia.

I missed my garden in Treveri, but Colonia, on the banks of the Rhenus in Germania Inferior, was close enough to the fighting for Constantius to visit me between campaigns. Our house was near the eastern wall, between the Praetorium and the temple of Mercurius Augustus, and had been occupied by the families of many commanders before us.

At least at the moment I did not have to worry about my husband's safety, for he had been summoned to Mediolanum, which Maximian had made his capital, to confer with him and Diocletian. I wondered sometimes if during those months spent away from me Constantius remained faithful, but in truth, if I had a rival it was not another woman but the Empire. When first we met I had loved him for his dreams. I could hardly complain because he now had an opportunity to make some of them reality. Still, with my husband off fighting and my son away with the Emperor there was little for me to do, and I found myself missing the responsibilities that would have been mine on Avalon.

For the moment, Diocletian and Maximian had accepted Carausius as a brother emperor. I wondered how long that would last. When I heard a rumour that Carausius was married to a British princess who had been trained on Avalon I was astonished. Ganeda had always feared and discouraged contact between Avalon and the outside world. That policy of isolation had been one of the reasons I left. But now I could not help thinking that if I had become High Priestess, it would have been I, not Dierna, who would now be deciding what role Avalon should play in this rapidly changing world. Sometimes I wished I could return to Britannia and find out what was happening there, but such a voyage was unlikely so long as Carausius ruled the British Sea.

On a bright day in the middle of March, when the wind, brisk as a hunting wolf, chased the little clouds across the sky, Constantius returned from Italia. At first, seeing his face as stony as it had been once after a lost battle, I thought the Emperor must have given him some reprimand, though I could not understand why Diocletian should be displeased. Surely it was Maximian, if anyone, who would be blamed for not having disposed of Carausius. If Diocletian was unhappy, I thought angrily as I directed the unpacking, he could come to Gallia and try his own hand at dealing with the situation here.

But the Germans led by Crocus, who had become Constantius's permanent bodyguard, were in fine fettle, filling the courtyard with their deep laughter, and surely they would have been gloomier if something were wrong. Most of them were quartered in the barracks at the Praetorium, of course, but there were always a round dozen or so about the house when Constantius was here.

I had grown accustomed to their size and their sometimes grim humour. I was a little surprised, to be sure, that Crocus himself had not come to greet me, as he had treated me with the deference due one of his own seeresses ever since our first meeting. Had something happened to him? That might explain my husband's mood.

I was in our bedchamber, sorting through the tunics from Constantius's baggage to see which ones might require mending, when my husband appeared in the doorway. I looked up, smiling, and saw him flinch.

His face grew more forbidding as he glanced around the room.

"Constantius," I said softly, "what is wrong?"

"Come for a walk with me," he said harshly. "We need to talk, and I cannot do it... here."

I could have a.s.sured him that none of our servants would eavesdrop, but it seemed better to change my slippers for st.u.r.dier sandals and take up a warm wrap without argument, and in truth, I would not be sorry to get out of the house on such a brilliant, restless day.

Ever since the rebellion of Civilis, in the time of the first Agrippina after whom the city had been named, Colonia had been a frontier town. Other cities might neglect their defences, but Colonia's walls had been rebuilt at regular intervals until they rose high and strong, punctuated at regular intervals by guard towers.

In times of peace, citizens could climb up by the stairs at the north gate and walk around to the east all the way to the gate by the Praetorium. Here, the banks of the river were already high, and the walls gave one a spectacular view of the bridge across the Rhenus and Germania Libera beyond.

I followed Constantius up the stone stairs, rea.s.suring myself that it was not his health that was the problem, for he climbed without a pause for breath, the hard muscles of his calves flexing with each step.

I, on the other hand, began to wish I had taken more regular exercise, for by the time we reached the walkway I was panting, and had to stop to catch my breath. Constantius put out a hand to steady me, then retreated to the wall, where he stood, arms resting on the crenellations and gazing northward where the barges moved smoothly down the river, until I joined him.

By this time my belly was knotting with apprehension. After so many years, I knew Constantius's moods as well as my own, and an angry confusion of emotion emanated from him so that he seemed wrapped in shadow, even while he stood in the sun. As I began to speak he started off and I followed him, recognizing that I would have to let him get to it in his own time and way.

The walls of the fortress at the other end of the bridge glowed, and sunlight glanced and sparkled from the blue waters of the river, very wide at this point and flowing strongly towards the sea. On the eves of festivals I would pour a little wine into the river, asking the G.o.ds of the waters to carry it to Britannia. As we pa.s.sed the corner tower and turned towards the Praetorium, we moved into the wind off the river and I clutched at my shawl.

Constantius's steps slowed, and I realized that here, halfway between the tower and the gate where the cobbled road between the wall and the cloisters of the Praetorium was widest, must be the best place in Colonia to speak without being overheard.

"Surely," I said aloud, "You have not brought me here to speak of treason to the Emperor!" I stopped short, surprised how much anxiety had sharpened my tone.

"Do not be so sure!" Constantius answered harshly. "He has put me in a position from which I must betray someone. The only choice I have is whom-"

"What do you mean?" I touched his arm and his other hand covered mine, gripping so tightly I winced with pain. "What did he say to you?"

"Diocletian has had an idea... a way to extend the imperial power equally across the Empire and secure a peaceful succession. He vows that when he and Maximian have reigned for twenty years, they will retire in favour of their Caesars, who will then take the t.i.tle of Augustus, and appoint two more."

I stared at him, amazed at the idea that a man would voluntarily give up the supreme power. But it might just work, if all four of the emperors remained loyal to each other. The idea of an empire that was not torn apart by civil wars of succession seemed like some fantasy.

"So he means to appoint two Caesars..." I prompted, when the silence had gone on too long.

Constantius nodded. "For the East, it will be Galerius. He's another man from Dalmatia, a hard fighter.

They call him "the Herdsman" because his father kept cows-" He realized that he was babbling, and paused. "For the West... he wants me."

It seemed to me that I had known this even before he said it. It was the dream of a lifetime, this gift from the Emperor. Or perhaps it was not a gift, for why was Constantius so unhappy? I looked up into his dear face, permanently reddened by exposure to weather, the flaxen hair fading now to silver and receding from his broad brow. But to me he was still the fair lad I had met in Britannia.

"But there is a price," he answered the question I could not ask. "He requires that both Galerius and I marry into the imperial families."

I could feel the colour draining from my face, and reached out to the stone to keep from falling.

Constantius had his eyes fixed on the horizon, as if he were afraid to see. I had heard that when a man is severely wounded, he feels first the shock, and only later, the pain. In that pause between the blow and my own agony, I found a moment to pity Constantius, who had had to bear this knowledge all the way from Mediolanum. And I understood now why Crocus had not come to see me. He was a man whose thoughts showed clearly in his face, and I would have read the truth of this disaster in his eyes.

"Galerius will marry Diocletian's daughter Valeria," he said tone-lessly. "They want me to take Maximian's step-daughter Theodora."