Terra Incognita

70

Tilla knew neither of the muscular young men who blocked her path, but she recognized some of the faces of the people gathering around them. There was one of the women she had seen at the clinic. There was the husband, whose nose her brother had knocked to one side. Another was a neighbor from across the hill who had been one of the children piling onto the swing in the oak tree outside her house when the rope broke and they all fell in a heap in the mud. The others were strangers. Finally Rianorix, busy chaining up the barking dog, noticed the cluster of people around the gate and headed down to see what was going on.

“I am Darlughdacha,” she told them. “Come home to join the Gathering.”

“We know that,” said the man with the bent nose. “And we know you traveled here with the legionaries.”

“We all have to survive as best we can in these times.”

“We heard that you were living behind their walls down in Deva.”

“That is true.”

“So why are you here?”

Tilla looked him in the eye. “This is my uncle’s land,” she said. “And that paddock and the house beyond it are on the land that was farmed by my family. Why are you here?”

“You must have seen many things inside the fort,” said one of the strangers, tucking his thumbs in his belt. “You will know how the soldiers store and prepare their weapons. How they send messages and arrange their supplies. How they order their guards.”

“I was a housekeeper,” she said. “I can only tell you how they prepare their dinner.”

“You walked through the fort with your eyes shut?” demanded the man with the bent nose.

“I find it is the best way,” said Tilla. “Then I cannot identify people and get them into trouble. And if my brother were here he would knock you down again for insulting me.”

The woman said, “Let her stay and help me until the Messenger gets here. Then we can ask him.”

“She could be a spy,” pointed out her husband.

“What is the matter with you all?” demanded Rianorix. “We know her.”

“You could be a spy too,” grumbled the man. “Why was it they let you go, eh? Did you do a deal with them?”

“Of course he did not!” retorted Tilla. “Even the Romans understand that the gods made someone else execute that soldier after Rianorix fasted against him. First you insult me, then you insult a man whom the gods have favored. You should be more careful.”

The grumbler scowled. The wife offered Tilla a small shrug of apology. One by one, they stepped back out of her path.

Tilla entered the gate and followed the path toward the house that had been commandeered from her unsuspecting uncle and his servants. She had passed the servants on the road, hurrying into town. They had been given an urgent message summoning them to help with the guild of caterers dinner. She had not believed a word of it, but they had, and they would not be back until morning.