The Crystal Lake

by L. J. LaBarthe

  “Are you cold, Agrat?” Raziel asked in concern.

  “It’s a cold night,” she said. “I’m used to the tropics. Once you’ve been lying still for a bit, you’ll get cold, too.”

  Raziel wrinkled his nose. “You’re probably right.” He reached out and grabbed another blanket and a pair of sheepskins and covered his body with them.

  Uriel was lying back, humming with contentment. “Better already,” he said. “Pass me another blanket, Razzy.”

  Raziel did so, throwing it lazily so that it landed squarely on Uriel’s face. As Agrat laughed, Uriel pulled it off.

  “Your aim sucks,” he said.

  “No it doesn’t,” Raziel said. “I was aiming for your head.”

  “Lovely.” Uriel wriggled around and stilled once he was comfortable. At least, that was what Raziel assumed he was doing. “Okay. Let’s rest.”

  “Best idea today,” Raziel agreed.

  IT WAS a little after 4:00 a.m. when they finished packing everything into the wagon. Raziel and Danny helped Angelique, Lily, and Agrat into the back of the wagon, where they reclined on cushions and blankets, a small amphora of wine to one side.

  “I could get used to this,” Lily said.

  “It’s pretty awesome,” Angelique agreed.

  “I’m glad you ladies are comfortable,” Raziel said. He got up into the wagon seat, Danny beside him. “Know how to drive a team of horses?” he asked the young man.

  Danny nodded. “My pop used to do hay rides when I was a kid. I know how to drive a horse and cart.”

  “Good.” Raziel handed the reins over to Danny and grinned over at Uriel and Shateiel, who, dressed in their armor, sat on their own horses. “You two look very handsome.”

  “Flatterer,” Uriel said. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  “I try.” Raziel leaned back in the wagon seat. “All right, let’s go. That way”—he pointed at a deer path that led through the trees—“we’ll go along that and then we’ll hit Dere Street. Uri, you and Shateiel should ride on either side of the wagon when we reach the road.”

  Shateiel saluted and Uriel clucked to his horse. He started forward, and Danny gently tapped the rumps of the wagon horses with the reins and they followed placidly. Shateiel brought up the rear.

  It took nearly an hour to emerge from the forest onto the road. Once they were there, Uriel and Shateiel drew up on either side of the wagon, and Danny turned the horses’ heads toward Vinovia, and they began their journey.

  The moon was low in the sky, and it was gradually beginning to lighten. Raziel looked around and saw that they weren’t alone on the road. “Just ahead,” he said, leaning toward Uriel who rode at his side, “isn’t that an Imperial messenger?”

  Uriel squinted, peering into the soft light of the early morning. “I think it is, yeah.”

  “Maybe we can get an idea from him what things are like in Vinovia,” Raziel said.

  “Okay. That means you want me to keep my mouth shut?”

  Raziel grinned at him. “Yes. Thanks, babe.”

  “Don’t mention it. You can make it up to me. You did say there’s a bathhouse in the vicus?”

  Raziel nodded and Uriel waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Raziel laughed. “All right, Roman bathhouse sex it is.”

  “Awesome.” Uriel scratched at one armpit. “Also, figure out how they smoke. I want a cigar.”

  “Good lord, can’t you wait?” Raziel asked. “Wait until we’re in private or something, Uri.”

  Uriel grumbled at that but didn’t argue. Soon they’d drawn up to the Imperial messenger, and Raziel greeted him warmly. The Latin came to him with ease, and Raziel felt for a moment as if he were picking up a conversation that had broken off thousands of years ago.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Good morning to you, master merchant,” the messenger said. “What brings you to Vinovia?”

  “All in Rome have heard the tales of the wonders of the silver here,” Raziel said. “I thought to come and investigate for myself. The rest of my household is a few days behind us.”

  “Vinovia isn’t a mining town,” the messenger said.

  “It never hurts to see all there is to see,” Raziel said with an easy smile, and the messenger laughed.

  “Wherever there are citizens of the Empire, there’s a potential market, eh?”

  “Indeed.” Raziel felt a little whimsical as they talked. In the first and second centuries of the years after the death of Christ, he had spent a lot of time in Rome, living and talking with scholars, soldiers, merchants, and anyone willing to exchange words and share wine.

  “Vinovia is as good a place as any here in Britannia,” the messenger said. “It’s very quiet. No brigands, no incursions from the north lands where the barbarians live. And no invasions by bloodthirsty tribe members such as have lately occurred in Londinium and Aquae Sulis.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I fear that there has been excitement a-plenty back in Rome, with the death and funeral of Imperator Nerva and the elevation of Imperator Trajan.”

  “Indeed!” The messenger shook his head. “That’s part of why I’m here. New government in Rome means a change of government in the colonies, too.”

  “Will there be much change in this vicus?” Raziel asked.

  “I doubt it. It’s more in the nature of informing the prefect of what’s going on elsewhere.” The messenger shrugged. “And I have letters from home for the legions.”

  “Ah, I am certain they await your arrival with great excitement,” Raziel said. He was sincere. “It must be hard to be stationed out here when one’s family remains behind in Rome.”

  “That was one reason I never married,” the messenger admitted. “In any case, I must leave you here. I have to report to the fort. Good fortune to you, and I hope you find Vinovia to your liking.” He nudged the flanks of his horse with his heels, and the animal broke into a loping trot. Turning the horse’s head, the messenger turned off Dere Street onto a narrow path that wound through the grass toward the looming shape of the fort.

  “Interesting,” Uriel said. “So things are all quiet here?”

  “Seems so.” Raziel pointed at the fort. “I don’t think we’ll have to go in there. The vicus is on the other side of the road, so we’ll go into the public square and see about lodgings.”

  “Makes sense,” Uriel agreed.

  “Will the girls need to stay out of sight?” Danny asked.

  “Yep. Well, for the most part. Until we’ve got rooms and a place to stay.” Raziel chuckled. “There are all sorts of customs and traditions. Agrat will know what to do and when. After we’ve taken rooms, I’ll take Uriel and your good self and go look around the town.”

  “All right,” Danny said. “I keep my head down and mouth shut, right?”

  “Right,” Uriel said. “Pretend you’re Shateiel.”

  Shateiel rolled his eyes. “Just because I am mute does not mean I do not have things to say, sir.”

  “I know that.” Uriel shrugged. “I was just saying. The people here won’t hear you. We can.”

  “Ah. I did not quite catch your meaning.”

  “That’s okay. I get that a lot.” Uriel laughed. “I bet that surprises no one.”

  They all laughed at that. “Uri, you offend people just by breathing, sometimes,” Agrat said from the rear of the wagon.

  “It’s true,” Uriel agreed with good-natured cheer.

  “You’re in a very good mood, actually,” Raziel noted. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this chipper in a group for decades.”

  “I’m happy,” Uriel said simply. “This is fun. It’s something new, and I always liked Rome and the barbarians. Britannia is full of Romans and barbarians, and I’m a barbarian, so I’m having a good time. So far.”

  “Let us not forget our goal,” Raziel cautioned. “I’m having fun, too, but remember, we’re here to see Joseph and talk to him about the Grail, not just indulge in Roman baths or markets.”r />
  “Does that mean we can’t do any shopping?” Angelique asked. She sounded scandalized.

  Raziel groaned. “I’m surrounded by party-goers. Yes, you can shop, just remember that Agrat and Lily are your servants—slaves. They won’t be able to buy things. So, if they want something, they’ll have to let you know, and you’ll have to buy it. Same for Danny.”

  Angelique nodded. “I get it. Don’t worry so much, Papa. You’ll get an ulcer.”

  “You called me what?” Raziel turned in his seat to stare at her.

  “Well, you’re supposed to be my guardian, right? Isn’t that like a surrogate father or something? So, I called you Papa.”

  “Good grief,” Raziel said, turning back around. “I suddenly feel really, really old.”

  Uriel guffawed. “You are really, really old.”

  “Thanks ever so much,” Raziel drawled. “We’re coming up to the gate, so everyone be quiet while I get us into the vicus.”

  The loud caw of a rooster shattered the gentle silence of the early morning, and Raziel leaned forward in his seat as Danny drew the horses to a halt. The gate guards were legionnaires, their burnished breastplates shining in the sun, and their weapons were immaculate.

  “Who are you and what brings you to Vinovia?” asked one.

  “I am Razielus of Rome,” Raziel began, “a merchant trading in fine goods for nobles and their estates. I am here to look into the local markets—one never passes up the chance for profit. The rest of my staff and packs are some days behind us, traveling from Londinium, and I seized the opportunity to ride ahead with these good retainers and my ward, the lady Angela Honoria.”

  The guards relaxed a little as he spoke. “You chose a good time to visit Vinovia,” the first guard said. “There is to be a fair in two days, to celebrate the feast day of Jupiter and the Matres Ollototae.”

  “Fortuitous timing indeed,” Raziel said. “The gods have been kind to us on this journey. They have kept us, too, from the depredations of Boudicca’s people.”

  The guards sneered at that name. “It is good you were spared, noble merchant,” said the other guard.

  “Tell me, is there a good inn here in the vicus?” Raziel asked.

  “Yes, in the center,” the first guard said. “It is run by Antonius. Tell him that Marcus Julian Castus guided you to him, and he will serve you well.”

  Raziel bowed in his seat. “Thank you, good Julian. I appreciate that. I hope your day goes swiftly and with little trouble to mar it.”

  “And thanks to you also, Razielus of Rome,” Julian said. He and his companion stepped aside, Danny clucked to the horses once more, and they rode through the gates and into the town.

  There were a few people up and about at this early hour, most of them slaves or native Britons. Raziel identified the latter easily by their dress, which was distinctly less Roman in style. They found the inn with no trouble, and Uriel and Shateiel dismounted and removed their helmets. Danny slipped down from the wagon seat and moved to help Raziel down—not that he needed it, but the proprieties had to be observed. Raziel was privately amused by how quickly and easily they had all fallen into their roles.

  Shateiel and Danny went to the rear of the wagon and helped the ladies out, and Angelique drew her stola up over her hair. Raziel held his arm out for her and she took it, the others falling in behind them.

  “Danny, Shateiel, stay with the horses,” Raziel said. “Keep an eye on things.”

  They lingered by the wagon as Raziel and the others went into the inn.

  It was cool inside and dim, and Raziel noted that it was extremely clean. A tall man with dark hair and wearing a simple brown tunica and toga bustled up to them, his expression one of hopeful curiosity.

  “Good morning, good innkeeper,” Raziel began, “I am Razielus, a merchant of Rome. I and my party require rooms for a few days. Good Marcus Julian Castus told us to come here and seek out Antonius.”

  “I am Antonius.” The man bowed. “Julian is very kind to direct you to my establishment. All my rooms are available at the moment, so you and your party may take your pick. How many are you?”

  “Us and two others,” Raziel said. “Do you have stables as well?”

  “Indeed,” Antonius said. “My youngest sons tend to the horses. Are yours out the front?”

  “Yes,” Raziel said.

  “I will have them tend to your animals,” Antonius said with another bow. “I will show you to your rooms.”

  “Thank you.” Raziel opened his belt pouch. “How much are lodgings and stabling?”

  They haggled for a few minutes, and then Raziel counted out the coins required, making sure to use those minted during the reign of Domitian. The innkeeper quickly pocketed the money, secreting his coin pouch in the folds of his tunic, and then called his sons to come and take care of the horses. Then he led Raziel up the flight of narrow stairs to the next floor.

  “This is a suite that is popular with our countrymen when they visit,” Antonius said.

  Raziel looked around approvingly. They were in a common room, with a large fireplace. There were tables and chairs and benches and the windows were open, letting in a pleasant breeze. Doors at either side of the common room were open, and Raziel could see that these were the bedrooms, furnished in plain but sturdy and comfortable-looking styles.

  “It is exactly what we’re looking for,” Raziel said. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll have my sons bring up your belongings,” Antonius said. “The bathhouse is just down there.” He pointed out of the window. “I serve lunch at noon and dinner at six hours after that.”

  “That is most satisfactory,” Raziel said.

  Antonius smiled and bowed again and then disappeared down the stairs. Once he’d gone, Raziel let out a deep breath. “Not a bad beginning,” he said to Uriel.

  “No,” Uriel agreed. “And the rooms look okay.”

  Angelique was peering into one of the bedrooms. “Do Lily and Agrat share with me?”

  “Yes,” Raziel said. “Danny and Shateiel can share a room, and Uriel and I will take the master bedroom.”

  “All right.” Angelique lowered her stola. “So far so good,” she said.

  “Hopefully it continues this way,” Lily said.

  Chapter Nine

  JIHU WAS waiting for them. He stood, arms folded over his chest, watching as they walked up to him. His expression was neutral, but Gabriel could tell from the set of his shoulders that Jihu was nervous.

  Michael stepped forward, gave Jihu a little bow, and began speaking to him in Korean, keeping his tone light and friendly, as unthreatening as possible. Paired with his attire and the sword sheathed at his side, to Gabriel’s mind, this was an amusing contradiction. Jihu shifted from foot to foot as Michael spoke, his eyes darting from Michael’s face to Gabriel’s and back again.

  It had been some time since Gabriel had spoken Korean, and now he concentrated on what Michael and Jihu were saying. He was a little surprised to find himself the subject of discussion—Jihu was confused about Gabriel’s relationship with Michael, and Michael was trying to explain it. Gabriel felt a rush of love for his bonded as Michael spoke of how Gabriel filled his heart and mind, much as Jihu’s family filled his own heart and mind. Finally, Jihu shook his head and the topic of conversation changed.

  His wife had just had a baby, Gabriel realized. A little boy named Kim, and Jihu was worried that the harvest wouldn’t be enough to fill the quotas required by the State and still feed his family. Michael was nodding, frowning a little as he listened, and Gabriel took a step back to see what the three angels who accompanied them were thinking.

  “Did he say that they are unsure they’ll have enough food to get through winter?” Vel asked.

  Gabriel nodded. “Aye.”

  “This seems to be a common theme among humanity,” Asaf said.

  “Not really.” Gabriel looked around the countryside. “We’ll be visiting Hawaii next, and you’ll see a whole different kin
d of society. Life is different everywhere, Asaf. So is finding happiness and joy.”

  “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it, sir?” Vel asked.

  “Aye. Humans are good at it; they’re resilient as well as adaptable. Oh, to be sure, there ain’t always things to be happy about, but their resilience makes it easier for ’em to bounce back. Unlike our kind,” Gabriel said.

  Vel hummed thoughtfully. “It’s admirable in a way, I suppose. Although I don’t understand it at all. Why not rise up against their oppressors? Overrun these people who seek to enslave them?”

  “You’re asking questions that don’t have any good answers,” Camael said. It was the first time he’d spoken in some time, and Gabriel looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Lord Gabriel, I honor and trust you implicitly, but I confess I do not always understand why these humans do what they do and, more importantly, why they endure what they do.”

  “What would you have them do instead?” Gabriel asked.

  “Rise up. Revolt against their oppressors, as Vel said.”

  Gabriel looked back at Michael and Jihu. Michael was holding a baby and making cooing noises. Gabriel found that absolutely adorable. He watched for a few moments, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Then he turned back to his Seraphim.

  “When we get back to Yerevan, have Haniel take you to London and visit with Penemuel. Get him to teach you about human revolutions,” Gabriel said, trying not to laugh as he imagined Penemuel’s reaction to that. “You’ll come away wiser—perhaps not happier with the knowledge, but wiser to be sure.”

  “Yes, sir,” Asaf and Vel said in unison, and Camael nodded, though his expression was thoughtful.

  Michael had handed the baby back to Jihu and was now bowing to him. They exchanged a few more words, and then Michael walked back to them.

  “All good?” Gabriel asked.

  “As well as can be expected, I suppose,” Michael said. “Very well, where to next, Gabriel?”

  “Hawaii.”

  “Ah, to see the lovely Miss Iolana,” Michael said.

  “Aye,” Gabriel said. “Though I don’t know if she’ll be surfing today.”