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Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
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Priam Corydon of the Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit monastery in former Dacian territory, Ave, on this, the Autumnal Equinox.
I am grateful to you for your offer of a company of slaves to assist us in fortifying our walls, but I fear what is needed here are soldiers, not slaves. We have more than enough monks to attend to the necessary labor, but most of our Brothers are not trained in fighting, and if we must feed and house fifty men, we must require that they be capable of mounting a true defense of the monastery. We have good reason to think that we may have to sustain against an attack before long.
You, of course, must face similar problems, and I sympathize with your predicament, since if you are to supply us with soldiers, it means that you must reduce your garrison, and that cannot be a welcome notion. But without some kind of reinforcement from trained fighters with weapons of their own, we may face complete destruction.
I have asked my brother, who commands a fort in Novae, if he is in a position to dispatch soldiers to us, but I have yet to receive an answer from him. I doubt that he will be able to aid us, which leaves me to cast about for help from good Christians to come to the aid of their fellows and to uphold the Church. If you refuse, then I will have to look farther afield for soldiers, all of which means more delay during which time we will be wholly vulnerable to attack.
There are those within the monastery who claim that if God does not provide the fighting men we need, then it is His Will that we be destroyed, and that if we mount any defense, we defy him at the peril of our souls. They may be right, and if they are, I will answer for it on the Day of Judgment. But to my mind, since I have the guardianship of the monks, it is fitting that I do all that I can in this world to preserve the Brothers and this monastery for Our Lord, for Whom I hold it in trust.
I adjure you to consider our plight and to offer as much help as you deem fitting, and to that end I and my Brothers will offer up prayers.
Priam Corydon
Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit monastery
Gepidae territory, formerly Dacia Superior
4
When the courier from Porolissum reached Apulum Inferior at midday the town was already in an uproar: goatherds from their vantage- points on the mountain had seen the horsemen coming along the old road little more than a day’s fast ride away and had brought their animals back down the mountains, penning them inside the stout, wooden walls of the town, then had informed the leader of the Watch and the regional guardian of the approaching danger. They had barely completed their report when an official courier arrived on a lathered horse and hurried into the central villa, and was directed to the reception-room by the footman at the door.
“There are more than fifty mounted men heading this way; if they continue at their present pace, they may get here by midnight, and they could still attack; if they arrive after that hour, they won’t attack until morning,” the courier reported as he stood before the guardian and the captain of the Watch in the reception-room; he was tired, thirsty, and dusty, his buckskin paragaudion and femoralia were stained and torn; his temper was short. “The rest of their men have occupied Porolissum and apparently plan to hold it for their leader, possibly as a regional headquarters for him.”
“Would he be Attila?” Mangueinic asked, speaking the language of the Gepidae; unlike the courier, it was not his native tongue. He was of Gothic and Dacian heritage, a common blend in this part of the Carpathians, and he had made a place for himself in Apulum Inferior that marked him as a man to be trusted by all parties: as captain of the Watch, he was responsible for the security of the town until soldiers arrived to take over the task of protection. Short, blocky, and strong, he was open-faced and wore his red hair and beard trimmed close to his head.
“That is what they claimed,” said
I am grateful to you for your offer of a company of slaves to assist us in fortifying our walls, but I fear what is needed here are soldiers, not slaves. We have more than enough monks to attend to the necessary labor, but most of our Brothers are not trained in fighting, and if we must feed and house fifty men, we must require that they be capable of mounting a true defense of the monastery. We have good reason to think that we may have to sustain against an attack before long.
You, of course, must face similar problems, and I sympathize with your predicament, since if you are to supply us with soldiers, it means that you must reduce your garrison, and that cannot be a welcome notion. But without some kind of reinforcement from trained fighters with weapons of their own, we may face complete destruction.
I have asked my brother, who commands a fort in Novae, if he is in a position to dispatch soldiers to us, but I have yet to receive an answer from him. I doubt that he will be able to aid us, which leaves me to cast about for help from good Christians to come to the aid of their fellows and to uphold the Church. If you refuse, then I will have to look farther afield for soldiers, all of which means more delay during which time we will be wholly vulnerable to attack.
There are those within the monastery who claim that if God does not provide the fighting men we need, then it is His Will that we be destroyed, and that if we mount any defense, we defy him at the peril of our souls. They may be right, and if they are, I will answer for it on the Day of Judgment. But to my mind, since I have the guardianship of the monks, it is fitting that I do all that I can in this world to preserve the Brothers and this monastery for Our Lord, for Whom I hold it in trust.
I adjure you to consider our plight and to offer as much help as you deem fitting, and to that end I and my Brothers will offer up prayers.
Priam Corydon
Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit monastery
Gepidae territory, formerly Dacia Superior
4
When the courier from Porolissum reached Apulum Inferior at midday the town was already in an uproar: goatherds from their vantage- points on the mountain had seen the horsemen coming along the old road little more than a day’s fast ride away and had brought their animals back down the mountains, penning them inside the stout, wooden walls of the town, then had informed the leader of the Watch and the regional guardian of the approaching danger. They had barely completed their report when an official courier arrived on a lathered horse and hurried into the central villa, and was directed to the reception-room by the footman at the door.
“There are more than fifty mounted men heading this way; if they continue at their present pace, they may get here by midnight, and they could still attack; if they arrive after that hour, they won’t attack until morning,” the courier reported as he stood before the guardian and the captain of the Watch in the reception-room; he was tired, thirsty, and dusty, his buckskin paragaudion and femoralia were stained and torn; his temper was short. “The rest of their men have occupied Porolissum and apparently plan to hold it for their leader, possibly as a regional headquarters for him.”
“Would he be Attila?” Mangueinic asked, speaking the language of the Gepidae; unlike the courier, it was not his native tongue. He was of Gothic and Dacian heritage, a common blend in this part of the Carpathians, and he had made a place for himself in Apulum Inferior that marked him as a man to be trusted by all parties: as captain of the Watch, he was responsible for the security of the town until soldiers arrived to take over the task of protection. Short, blocky, and strong, he was open-faced and wore his red hair and beard trimmed close to his head.
“That is what they claimed,” said
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