The Codex Lacrimae (8 page)

“
Basta
! Enough!” Clarinda interrupted, unable to restrain herself. “Please, I wish you'd quit saying that kind of thing! He's
not
‘my Hospitaller,' and we're only talking about dreams. If the knight at the pool really is the Santini from Mecina, he'll have no place in my life. None. I'm leery of violent men as it is, and I certainly wouldn't get involved with a religious fanatic.”

“We shall see,” Urd said agreeably, “but as friend, foe, or whatever you become to each other, know this — he's surrounded by deceptions and half-truths. He was raised in falsehood, and he's survived by those lies for five years. That time is at an end. Smoldering elements from his and your family backgrounds have ignited, and their fires will burn through the entire Mediterranean — from the walls here in Byzantium to the Arabian sands, from the Italic lands, to the fjords of Scandinavia.”

Urd paused, and Clarinda felt the skin on the back of her arms tingle in apprehension as the older woman stared into space. “Such fires, I see – fires everywhere. Fire on a ship in Caesarea and in a library at the Krak des Chevaliers. Fire in a forest glade in Svartalfheim while two huntsmen await their prey, and fire in a forge where a powerful Sampo is made….”

The woman shook her head. “The threads are consumed even as I watch, but this much is clear: your actions will influence much, Child. Heed me: if you let your heart command you instead of cleaving to your duty to the Well of Fate, if you don't heed my warnings about the danger Santini poses, Creation itself may burn.”

“The Well of Fate? Creation burning? I don't understand what you're saying,” Clarinda said. “Can't you speak plainly? I mean, when you say Creation, do you mean the world around us? How could it all burn because of Santini?”

“I put the visions from the Sight as simply as I can. When I say Creation, I mean all the worlds in the Multiverse; all worlds and realities will burn if you don't learn to trust us and heed our counsel.”

“The Multiverse?” Clarinda asked, smiling indulgently. The woman seemed mad!

“You think me mad, do you? A second lesson, then: you
will
listen to me
!”

Although she felt the power of the Norn Voice charging the air between them again, this time Clarinda couldn't resist its persuasion. The girl stopped moving, and her throat closed as Urd's words hammered into her mind.

I…I can't breathe!

“I have your attention, Sister-Daughter?
Buona
.
”

Clarinda gasped as air flooded into her lungs. She could move again.

“I will not tolerate this constant questioning, Clarinda,” Urd said calmly. “We've little enough time as it is, and certainly not enough to indulge your doubts. Know this: the truths you've lived by for seventeen years won't help you survive the times to come. Those times are filled with worlds and peoples that are all under our watch, our protection. A Norn's task is a sacred and extremely difficult duty, demanding sacrifices you can't begin to imagine. I sense your disbelief, Girl, and it's a feeling rooted in arrogance. Arrogance based on an assumption that seventeen years of life have equipped you for assessing all situtations with a logic that leads to certain conclusions.”

Urd snickered. “Try those assessments when the Huntsmen come for you, Clarinda Trevisan. Let the fruit of your experiences sustain you when you see the serpent's fang buried in your father's breast. See if your life in Venice has equipped you to defend the worlds against Surtur and the Legions of Muspelheim as they march through Niflheim Gate to attack all realities! No, no. It won't do. Those seventeen years have made you what you are, but you need to learn more if you're to survive this and become a Norn”

“I'm not going to become a Norn —” Clarinda started to protest, but stopped herself before Urd could paralyze her again with that voice. “I mean, this is all very confusing. I don't know what to make of it, especially that part about Santini. What's his connection to the Norns? How could one fanatical crusader pose a danger to the…the Multiverse?”

“He must burn through the lies that make his life. For Santini, those falsehoods obscure the past, and his fond memories about the family he's left behind; they distort the present, making him think he can hold onto his current existence as knight and monk; and they darken the future, because, like you, he's sorely unprepared for the trials to come. For my part, knowing a bit more than you do now, I think that you
will
love him. Though shrouded by the dark times descending, Santini's thread remains intact, and it's of a strength I've not seen in a very, very long time. If there weren't such a…darkness in his threads, I'd even put him among those knights whose exploits were chronicled by Gildas the Wise.

“But, for all that, Clarinda…,” the Norn hesitated, then added, “for all their greatness, never forget that even those knights were known to make mistakes. They ventured into places that would flay the skin of most men, and some did
not
come back. Quests rarely end where the seeker expects, and your Hospitaller won't even know that he's seeking something when this begins. I tell you this: Aurelius stands between madness and glory, and you must stay true to your course and our training if you are to survive him and the times to come.”

Urd nodded, as if agreeing with someone that Clarinda couldn't see. “Yes, I say this at the outset, for to do other than Fate demands will invite disaster — you must curb your impulse to do as you've done, and listen to your new sisters. This role you assume isn't like the taking the helm of a ship, and you can't fight your way through to the other side of these matters. We tend the threads, we weave, and we consult with Mimir before taking action.

“I leave you with these three mandates, and they must be obeyed, even if you don't yet understand the whys and wherefores of our reasoning, nor the demands of the Sight that will come to you with increasing frequency. First, let Morpeth do as he will when he storms the Well of Fate – I fear that I must die, Clarinda. There's no avoiding that outcome if the worlds are to survive. Second, the Sampo and Arngrim must
not
unite in the flames of the Niflheim Gate – if it comes to it, you must kill both Codex Wielder and his friend before they cause irreparable harm and open the door to Annen Verden. That door must remain shut! Lastly, and most importantly, Santini must be left alone with neither Dragon nor Deceiver. The words of Fafnir and Abbadon will turn on him in ways that no one can expect, and if he listens and acts, the worlds will be undone for nigh a thousand years —”

“There you are!” Genevieve exclaimed, suddenly in front of Clarinda and the Norn. Clarinda started, so entranced was she by the singsong tone of Urd's prophesying. She quickly regained her composure, and looked helplessly from the older woman to her childhood friend.

“Clarinda,” Genevieve said, with a suspicious look at Urd, “I don't think that you've introduced me to your friend before.”

Genevieve Stratioticus,” Urd said, unperturbed. “I am Urd. I soothsay to you thus, by ancient custom and out of respect for the bond you share with Clarinda.”

The woman looked severely at the girl. “And, it must be said, with words more kindly than your current personality deserves. Hear me:
if
you ignore the petition of your current suitor and join Clarinda in her voyage to the East, you'll enjoy a long life in a clime far from here, with a good spouse whom you'll truly love and to whom you'll bear five children. Clarinda's future ‘friend' is like a brother to one who, having few words, will nonetheless say all you've ever wanted a man to say.”

“Excuse me?” Genevieve spoke with some haughtiness – after all, she was to be engaged to one of the twelve
magisters
in the emperor's administration. Granted, the sixteen-year-old admitted to herself, the man was thirty-five years her senior and almost dead from consumption, but how
dare
this strange woman presume to comment on such things! “Clarinda, who is this person?”

Urd shook her head with a rueful smile and looked at Clarinda. “The Seeress's Song includes much that even the Seeress couldn't see. Mayhap it will be that your Hospitaller might be healed by else than the Dark Book, but you must be careful of him. The Seeress sayeth this:

‘From Glittertind's height to Mimir's dark well,

Naught heals damned knight save knowledge most fell,

That usurped life is the Dark God's lie,

Bane to Nine Worlds is the Codex Lacrimae'.

“Be wary of Aurelius, Clarinda. He means well, but the name of ‘Well-Meaning' has brought much, much sorrow into the world. I'm not yet certain that he's the Codex Bearer, but if he is, more than this Midgardian place will be affected by his actions. I see the shadow of a three-faced man stretching from the figure of your Hospitaller, and in his path the death of Norns, the return of warlocks, and a slumbering evil awakened and unbound. Remember this above all else: do not let Santini be alone with the dragon, nor in a monk's library with the Ancient Enemy. If he hears their words without your presence, more will be lost than you to him or him to another woman. There are other worlds than the nine we know, and your separation would doom all realities and unleash fire and nightmare.
Prestare attenzione
and beware.”

Urd stepped forward and gave Clarinda a brief, strong hug. Again, the younger woman — though shaken by the force of Urd's words — was reassured by her touch. She whispered “
grazie
” as the self-proclaimed Norn retreated to meld into the lengthening shadows of the northern part of the basilica. She was gone.

“Why'd you say, ‘thank you?' ” Genevieve asked. “‘Thank you,' for what? Truly, Clarinda: who was that woman, and why does she kind of look like you? Is she a relative?”

Clarinda initially said nothing, dazed by the encounter. Then she threaded her arm through the crook of her friend's arm, saying with a slight smile, “
Vene
,
Genie. Come. Let's rejoin the boys, and get to the dockyards.”

Outside the basilica, the fog seemed to be wafting into the city more quickly than usual, as if sensing her need to get back to the sea and bringing part of its moisture to land. She heard the squawking of grey cranes flying overhead and thought that — if all went well — she'd soon be following those birds on their southward migration across the Great Sea to the Nile Delta to wait out the late fall and winter months in comfort.

Clarinda would be veering eastward from the cranes' Egyptian landfall, however, because she now knew that her father would be found in Caesarea

She welcomed the coolness, letting the damp air chill cheeks flushed by Urd's words before stepping down to rejoin the Stratioticus family.

Even if you reach Caesarea, hope not for your father.

Be wary of Servius Aurelius Santini, Clarinda...he's alive. He's the second, black-robed Hospitaller knight in your vision of Mimir's Well
.

Alex's strategy for getting her away from his and Genevieve's father worked perfectly.

“Excellent,” Clarinda said to all the remaining members of the family after the parents and retainers departed from Hagia Sophia. “That was well done, all of you.”

Alexander bowed deeply. “I don't like deceiving Father with these plans, but we're at your command, Mistress Trevisan.” He held out an arm and smiled. “Once we decided to help you, Father didn't have a chance.”

Genevieve held up her leathern purse of coins. “I knew he'd give us a little spending money! Did you get some, too, Clare?”

“Hey,” one of the younger boys, Matthew, protested, “I didn't get anything!”

“We'll share with you, you ninny,” Genevieve said, putting her pouch into a hidden pocket on the side of her dress, “but run ahead and lead the way with your brother. Your elders have to talk.”

“Elders?” Alexius asked, looking around as if expecting someone to come across the relatively quiet gardens of Hagia Sophia. “Where? Oh, you mean you, Genie? At least Alexander has some —” He ducked Genevieve's cuff at his head and ran to join his brother.