“‘And the blessed Daisan told them, “You will receive power when an angel bearing the Divine Logos, the Holy Word of God, comes upon you. You will bear witness for me in Saïs, and all over Dariya and even into Arbahia, and away to the ends of the earth.”
“‘When he had said this, as they watched, he was lifted up and a cloud removed him from their sight.
“‘Then they returned to Saïs from the hill called Olivassia, which is near Saïs, no farther than a Hefensday journey. Entering the city they went to the house where they were lodging: Thecla, Peter and Matthias and Thomas, Lucia and Marian and Jahanna. All these were constantly in prayer together.
“‘This was then the day called Pentekoste, the fiftieth day after the Ekstasis and the blessed Daisan’s Translatus into the heavens. On this day while they were all together, there came suddenly from the sky a noise like that of a strong driving wind, which filled the house where they were sitting. And there appeared to them tongues like flames of fire.’”
Antonia sighed and nodded her head, as if the tale affected her deeply. “So did the disciples speak in every tongue of every nation,” she said, “even in those languages which they did not know. So did the Blessed Daisan reveal that the Holy Word and message of Light was meant for all peoples, of every kind.”
“Even the Eika?” Alain asked. “Or the Lost Ones? Or the goblins who live in the Harenz Mountains?”
“Even they,” she replied solemnly. “For it is not our part to judge which kind may enter the Chamber of Light and which may not.”
Alain thought of Fifth Brother. He thought of how he had told the Eika prince the story of the Ekstasis and Daisan’s Translatus up into the heavens. But the prince could not understand Wendish. And yet … that story had caused the prince to speak his first word to Alain, to betray both that he could speak and that he had an intelligence that understood and sought speech. It had caused the prince, savage that he was, to attempt friendship, of a kind.
A servant brought a pitcher filled with steaming water. Pouring it into the fine ceramic basin, the servingwoman wet a cloth and carefully bathed the biscop’s face, then patted her skin with oils perfumed with the scent of lavendar.
“Go on,” said Antonia, her eyes shut as the servingwoman drew the cloth away from her face. “Read on, child.”
He swallowed and glanced at Agius, but the frater had placed his forehead on his clasped hands and was staring at the carpet. Licking his lips nervously, Alain went on.
“‘Now there were living in Saïs peoples of every nation under heaven, and because of this miracle a crowd gathered, and they were all amazed and perplexed.
“‘Thecla stood up with the Six and addressed them: “This is what the prophet spoke of. So say the God of Unities: ‘This will happen in the last days: we will pour out upon everyone a portion of our Holy Word. Your women shall see visions and your men shall dream dreams. Yes, even the slaves shall be given a portion of Our word, and they shall prophesy. And We will show portents in the sky above and signs on the earth below— blood and fire and storm. The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood. Call upon the Lady by Her name, the Mother of Life, and call upon the Lord by His name, the Father of Life, and ye shall be saved and lifted in glory to the Chamber of Light.’” And the other disciples clasped their hands and raised their voices in loving prayer, as affirmation to her words.’”
A cleric entered and leaned to whisper in Antonia’s ear. She smiled kindly and made a gesture, then rose herself. “We have a new guest in our tent tonight,” she said. As she turned, the entrance was pushed aside and Cleric Heribert, accompanied by two guards, led Constance into the tent. Behind him came servants carrying a wooden pallet and feather bed.
In the intervening days Constance had lost her biscop’s vestments. Alain did not know if she had given them up or if they had been taken away from her. Her face, at least, was unmarked by signs of physical coercion.
“My blessed sister,” said Antonia, coming forward. Constance extended a hand, as if she meant Antonia to kiss it, but Antonia merely clasped it fondly, as she might the hand of a kinswoman. If this impertinence irritated Constance, she did not let it show. After all, Sabella had taken her biscophric away from her and by that standard Biscop Antonia now stood above her in the church’s hierarchy, if not in that of the world. Even in her biscop’s vestments Constance had worn the gold torque that marked her as born of royal kin; in simple deacon’s robes she wore it still.
