Marthian always valued her meetings with the
High Priestess, even though she found her cousin extraordinarily daunting.
Marthian would walk down into the temple complex in the early morning and sit
beside one of the network of pools and artificial streams that covered the
area. There was one spot that the slender elf particularly liked, by a fig tree
that was usually laden with fat fruits and visited frequently by huge white
butterflies. She would wait there, feeling the presence of the Lady, calming
and reassuring, until the Priestess came. They never agreed a time to meet –
Marthian would sit and in time Julia would come.
On this morning
she had waited alone for only a few minutes before Julia swept down out of the
temple to greet her. Marthian stood up,
the Priestess towering over her, and they embraced. Their first few exchanges
were a ritual.
‘Good morning
proconsul, how is the City?’
‘The City
stands but we are still alone. But, by the Lady’s grace we will endure’
‘And what news of the Emperor?’
‘We still wait;
but he will surely come’
Julia drew away
from their embrace. Her fingers brushed the char symbol that hung round her
neck. Then she stepped back to inspect her cousin. She smiled gently.
As always,
Marthian hoped that she looked smart enough – was she wearing the same tunic
that she’d been wearing the last time that they met? She was annoyed at herself
for such petty thoughts. Julia always had this effect on her. Without thinking,
she looked down at her nails.
‘I have news,
Marthian’ said Julia.
‘You have?
Then, I am grateful for it’ said Marthian, smiling weakly back, ‘yours is
always the only news; all I can provide for you is details of crop yields and
well capacities’
Julia’s look
hardened.
‘Things stir in
both east and west – things that may well converge here, like two tides
meeting. ’
‘You mean to
warn me of danger? Do I need to act?’ asked Marthian, her hands meeting without
conscious thought and her left hand rubbing her right palm, betraying her
nerves.
‘It is not
clear. Forces move now and in the past. Hidden things stir. Events quicken,’
Marthian looked
out beyond Julia at the green and white expanse of the city. People were waking
up and shutters were being opened everywhere.
‘That will be
new’ she said attempting to make the tone a little lighter, ‘no event that
happens here is ever “quick”!’
Julia kept her
gaze on her younger cousin. It was a look that Marthian knew very well, she always
gave it when she felt that not enough attention was being paid to her
pronouncements.
‘Well, that is
because you are still very young, cousin; as I have often said, you have come
to your position too soon. You are not at all prepared’
Marthian’s
father had died unexpectedly two hundred years before, and she had assumed his
role, as was traditional. She was an only child and to most citizens a male
heir would have been preferable.
‘Is that the
Lady’s view, High Priestess? Or yours?’
‘Those are one
and the same, as you know’
‘Yes, of
course. What then, should I do to make myself prepared?’
Julia shook her
head. Like so many times before Marthian felt that she had just failed another
test.
‘Perhaps your
preparation should not be to do anything, but simply to endure’
‘Well, yes… but
there must be some actions that I could take that would be helpful…’ Marthian’s
voice trailed off.
Julia appeared
to be listening to somebody else. Her voice was full of portent.
‘This is a very small city, far from the
centre. Remember, most of the time it is
your fate to be powerless. That is everyone’s fate, proconsul. ’
‘I suppose so,
High Priestess, but we’re not completely without resources, are we?’
Julia smiled.
Again she seemed to be tracing the course of some other conversation.
‘The Emperor is
a long way away, both in space and time. History has passed us by.’
Marthian
shivered, as if a cold gust of wind had blown across this warm spring day.
‘Is Whitecloak
moving? Is that it?’
Julia shook her
head noncommittally.
‘I cannot tell’
she murmured, ‘but it is only a matter of time. You know that. And when he
comes from the east it will be with much greater power, of that I am certain’
Marthian
shivered, remembering the stories of the cruelty of the army of the White
Devil, when it had besieged Ortia in her father’s time.
‘We have the
walls, though and the Lady’
‘Yes, we do. But
we best not rely on them this time alone, I fear. We will try our best, but all
things must pass’
Marthian could
see another priestess approaching from inside the temple complex. Julia heard the
sound of her footsteps and turned to greet her.
‘Ah, Rosa, is
it time?’
Rosa gave a
little bow and nodded. She seemed very tense.
Everyone’s
scared of her thought Marthian, preparing to say her
farewells.
‘I must go, anyway,
High Priestess. I have a council meeting’
Julia smiled,
but this time there was no judgment in it, it was just a bland smile of
dismissal that she had given to thousands of elves thousands of times
before. She took Marthian’s hand and
bent to embrace her.
‘Take care Marthian’ she whispered as she
kissed her cheek, ‘remember, the Lady is with you, here, now and forever’
‘I will do what I can, cousin’ insisted Marthian,
‘I hope that you know that I will try my best’
‘Of course’
murmured Julia, ‘and you know where I am if you need me’
Marthian took a
step back, bowed and started to leave, irritated with Rosa that she had
interrupted the conversation and irritated with herself for her diffidence.
Perhaps Julia was right, perhaps she was too young and too inexperienced for
this job. Her only source of comfort was that she was all that they had.
As she walked back to the palace, Marthian
considered her resources. She had a small army, skilled in the defensive arts,
but not a regular fighting force. There were also the city walls, still as
strong as when they were fashioned, and the ancient warehouses were intact;
they held enough grain for a six month siege. The main problem was – if they
were besieged who would ever relieve them? This wasn’t the first time that
Julia had reminded her of what movement in the east meant, that if it happened,
all they could ever do would be to delay the inevitable by a brave last stand. No help would come from the west; no one had
come for a very long time.
Would anyone
actually sack the city though? Over the years some had tried, but all seemed to
have been cowed by the Lady’s presence and the ancient walls. Perhaps an enemy
would breach the gates but would be thrown back. Perhaps the city really was uniquely
blessed by her presence. Although it amounted to a sort of heresy, she somehow
doubted it.
She was
dreading the Council meeting. She’d already decided not to say anything about
the Priestess’s prophecy. It seemed too vague for anyone to act on it, and it
would only cause disquiet. Disquiet was the last thing that she wanted to bring
to that essentially timorous group of elves. It was a sad thought that out of
all of them, she was clearly the bravest. And she didn’t feel brave at all.
When General
Aurelian returned she’d ask him to do a tour of the city defences – she might
even join him. A walk around the city might be reassuring. Or it might not. Things
were very unclear. Maybe she could send the general to talk to Julia – perhaps
he’d persuade her of the strength of the defences. She sighed – he’d never do
it, it wasn’t part of his jurisdiction.
Delaying the
inevitable for as long as she could, Marthian walked up on to the battlements
opposite the proconsular residence, just for five minutes air before the long
dull meeting began. No soldiers were up
there, but she could still imagine the landscape through soldiers’ eyes. Ortia
was in a wide, almost flat, plain, and all she could see was the green lowlands
and the river snaking through it. Far off, in the pale distance, she could see
a few scattered farmers moving around their fields, or tending their
cattle. She tried to imagine those dots
multiplied a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand times with the enemy– filling
the space up to the horizon. Her mind rebelled. It seemed inconceivable, but
she knew very well that it had happened in her father’s time, and that her
grandfather had died in that siege. Perhaps, now, however young she might be,
it was her turn. Her turn to do what, she wondered? Die in fear or with
courage? Flee? Prevail? At that moment she couldn’t face any of those
possibilities. The council meeting was starting to look more and more enticing.
It was time to go.
