Queens of Ruin: Chronicles of Mahon

Book Two Brenda Murphy

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QUEENS OF RUIN
Chronicles of Mahon Book Two
BRENDA MURPHY
Copyright © 2022 by Brenda Murphy

Cover Art by Sarah Waites Copyright © 2022

Published October 2022 by Quinby Sideshow Publications, Ohio USA.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or
otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of
brief quotations in a book review.
To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Brenda Murphy @ brenda@brendalmurphy.com”
Created with Vellum
For C, until the rivers of time run dry.
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Brenda Murphy
 1

“H ungry?” Mara stroked her fingers over Reika’s belly.

“For food?” Reika pressed a kiss to Mara’s bare shoulder.
“If you gorge yourself between my legs anymore we’ll never make the springs before night. And
as much as I love our cozy tent, I’m ready for a proper bed.”
Reika teased her fingers over Mara’s breasts. “Are you sure?”
Mara stifled her groan and slid away from Reika’s touch. “For a warrior you are certainly well
skilled in the love arts.”
Reika's mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “I’m going to take that as a compliment and not consider
how many warriors you have sampled to know.”
Mara cupped Reika’s face. “None worth remembering, nor marking.” She rested her palm over
the incised tattoo on Reika’s stomach, “and none worth risking the wrath of the fates by saving from
death.”
Reika leaned her brow against Mara’s forehead. “I’d die a thousand times to be with you.”
Mara pressed a kiss to Reika’s cheek. “After our trip to the springs, you’ll never have to worry
about death again.”
Reika shifted in place and peered into Mara’s eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Are you questioning a Goddess?”
“No, I’m questioning my lover.”
“Who is also a Goddess, and yes, my love. I don’t want to be without you, ever.” She kissed
Reika’s forehead, her cheek, and then her mouth. Her plush lips were welcoming and seductive.
Reika broke their kiss. She moved her mouth delicately to Mara’s throat. Mara sank into her tender
kisses that drove all thoughts of food and travel from her mind.
The snort and stamp of their horses made them jerk apart. They scrambled to their feet. Reika
snatched her sword belt from its spot by their sleeping pads. She lifted her finger to her lips as she
drew her weapon. Mara lifted her bow and slid her quiver over her bare shoulder. She strained her
ears listening for sounds of whatever had disturbed the horses.
In the silence of the wood, the snap of a twig echoed. Against the morning light, the outline of four
shadows darkened the front of the tent. Reika touched Mara’s shoulder and tilted her head toward the
rear of the tent. Mara picked up her short blade from her pack and sliced the end of the tent.
Reika leaned close and whispered. “Circle them from the rear. Your bow will be useless in the
tent. I’ll engage them to give you time.” Her eyes flitted to Mara’s. “No mercy.”
“None. Be safe, my love.” Mara stepped close to the cut canvas.
 “Who is there?” Reika spoke in a falsetto using simple Traders’ tongue as she moved toward the
front of the tent.
“Friends. Come out. We only seek your company.” A wine-soaked voice called.
“It’s lonely on the road.” A different voice this time.
“You’re lying.” Reika lifted her chin and gestured to Mara to leave. “I think you’re here to take
advantage of me, take what I’ve been saving for my one true mate.”
Mara failed to stifle her eye roll at Reika’s acting. Moving silently, she exited the tent and nocked
an arrow.
“You’re calling me a liar?” Another voice, a clear tenor, refined in tone.
Mara moved out away from the tent. She tread carefully, picking her way through the forest to
flank the group.
The escalating banter between Reika and the group grew louder. Mara mounted a deadfall
silently. There were eight. All men, their red robes were decorated with embroidered small white
flowers. Their boots had the worn look of foot travelers. They were closing in on the tent, swords
drawn as Reika kept up her taunting dialogue.
Mara settled into her stance, drew her bow and lined up her first target.

“YOU’ RE CALLING ME A LIAR?”

Reika noted the switch in voices as she studied the shifting shadows. At least four, maybe six.
Solid odds once Mara was in place. Reika focused on the tent's flap, wondering why they had not
simply attacked her.
“What kind of man lets a woman do all the talking? Where is your companion? Hiding under the
bedclothes?” A round of raucous laughter followed. Eight, at least.
Mara had to be in place by now. Reika lay her knife aside to untie the tent flaps. “What makes you
think I travel with a man?”
“That warhorse you’ve tied up unless you stole it.”
Reika picked up her short blade and settled her grip on her sword.
“Are you calling my mate a horse thief?” Mara’s voice rang out over the glade.
“I think they did, love.” Reika strode through the flaps to face the band. She shifted her feet to a
fighting stance and held her blade in ready position.
Mara stood atop a deadfall, giving her a height advantage. She had an arrow nocked and her bow
drawn. Blue fire flickered along its length. “Rude. If you leave now, we’ll not follow. If you attack,
we’ll not leave any standing.”
“Bold words for a naked woman. Where’d you steal that bow?” The largest man drew his blade
and charged toward Mara. An arrow struck him in the neck. A scarlet fountain of blood spurted from
his wound. The blue flame of the arrow spread along the shaft, and in seconds his corpse was a
smoldering heap. Reika took advantage of the group's distraction and swung her blade. A geyser of
blood spouted from the neck of the man closest to her. His head rolled to a stop in the center of the
group.
“Witches!” The tallest man shouted, and the band's remaining members divided into two groups.
Reika countered the strikes from her assailants. She feinted to her left, shifting her feet to keep
them in front of her. Their robes hindered their movements. Untrained and sloppy in their attacks, she
quickly dispatched the largest with a sharp thrust after parrying his ill-timed strike with her dagger.
His companions backed away, spread out, and came at her as one. She backed up until the rough
bark of a tree pressed against her skin. The lead man’s lips drew back in a snarl. “Unnatural beast.
I’ll send you back to the Pit.” He swung his broadsword at her. She pushed off the tree, ducked under
his strike and shoved her blade deep into his belly. He screamed and swatted her arm. He swung
again and cuffed her ear as he collapsed. The sting and burn of his strike enraged her. Sweat stung her
eyes. He slumped forward. Reika’s feet slipped on the blood-soaked moss as she backed away. The
man crumpled to the ground with a quiet gurgle, trapping her blade under his body. Panting and
swearing, Reika wiped her hand on his robe before she gripped her sword handle. She placed her
foot on his shoulder and tugged.
The tip of a blade pressed against her throat, and she stilled. A rough chuckle echoed in the trees.
A man taller by a head stood over her. “Let go of the sword and drop your knife. Back away from
that idiot.”
Reika dropped her weapons before she lifted her hands to shoulder height and took three steps
back. The man followed her, his sword still pressed against her neck.
“Make you a deal, witch. Die now, or,” he grabbed himself through his robes, “or show me some
hospitality and you can die later.”
Reika stared at him from under her lashes. “Oh, I’d love to show you some hospitality.” She
dropped to her knees. The man moved his blade to the side and yanked at his gown. Reika flexed her
hands and gauged the distance between them. The man sheathed his sword as he exposed himself.
Reika leaned forward and grabbed the back of the man’s boots. She yanked hard toward her and
upended him. In two quick moves she had him pinned. He struggled against her, bucking widely.
Reika knotted her hand in his greasy hair and punched his face. The crunch of bone and his howl of
pain was satisfying as she pummeled his face.
“Bitch-whore from hell, I’m going to skin you alive.” He bucked and rocked under her, nearly
unseating her.
Reika held tight and ended his struggles with one sharp punch to his throat. He gasped, his face
graying as he struggled for air before going limp, eyes wide.
“Well done, love,” Mara called as she strode through the collection of burnt and smoldering
bodies surrounding them. Some had already turned to piles of ash.
Reika stood up and backed away from the dead man.
Mara touched the edge of Reika’s ear gently. “Does it hurt much?”
Reika raised her fingers to the swollen flesh already thick with blood. “Not much yet.” She
winced as she felt around the tip of her ear. “Cartilage is broken again. It’s going to look worse than it
already did. You’d think I’d have been in the fighting pits the way my ears look.”
“I didn’t choose you for the appearance of your ears.” Mara hugged her close. “There is no one
I’d rather fight beside.” She cupped her ear. Reika's skin tingled as Mara worked her magic. The pain
in her ear vanished.
“Better, love?”
“Much.” Reika gestured to the dead men’s clothes. “Who do they fight for? Do robbers in these
times coordinate their outfits?”
Mara grimaced. “Sons of Aaron. His enforcers. Soldiers of his temple. In this timeline anyone
who wields magic that isn’t him or one of his priests is a witch and to be destroyed. And women are
but vessels to be used and controlled by men. If they resist, they are labeled witches and murdered.
No one knows how many innocent people they’ve killed.”
 “What’s with the flowers? Odd choice for enforcers.” She tugged her blade free and wiped the
blood on the dead man’s gown.
“Starlight lily. It’s part of their hold on them. They’re addicted to the poison the priests make from
it. Clouds their reason and judgment. They’ll do anything to keep their supply.”
Reika pursed her lips. “How can this time be so different from my own? Men and women were
equal in my time. And there was no magic.” Reika lifted her brow. “They are men are they not?”
“Because each stream of time flows in its own course. And yes, they are men. You will encounter
other beings in this timeline who are not aligned in a binary. But in this case you are correct.”
A sharp wind stirred the leaves on the trees. Gooseflesh rose on Reika’s arms as her adrenaline
faded. “As novel as it was fighting naked, I want to dress and get on the trail.”
“Agreed. I don’t want to fight any more battles where I have to worry about you.” Mara lay her
hand on Reika’s arm. “Although watching you fight naked and destroy those four idiots was
magnificent.”
“You watched?” Reika lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, yes. My four fell as quickly as I could fire.”
“And you didn’t come to help me?”
“You were doing well.” Mara patted her arm. “I don’t want you to think I don’t respect your
fighting abilities. Besides, it was tremendously entertaining.”
“What about the last one? He could have killed me.”
“No.” Mara’s grip on her arm tightened, her brows drawn down. “No, my love. My arrow was
trained on him. He’d have fallen before he could have struck you.”
“Did you think I was going to do what he asked?”
“Never. I trusted you to get out of it. I expected you to bust his family baubles, but I liked the way
you took him down. The throat punch was perfect. I loved the startled expression on his filthy face as
he died.”
Reika gestured to the bodies scattered at their feet. “What do we do with the corpses?”
Mara pursed her lips. “Get dressed and leave them to me. The blue flame of time will leave
nothing behind for anyone to find.”

“THERE.” MARA POINTED AT A SQUAT STONE HOUSE SET IN A VALLEY. P IGS ROOTED IN THE MUDDY
fields surrounding the house. The stench of the farm wafted toward them.
“That? That is the fabulous place you promised me?” Reika lifted her hand and covered her nose.
“Follow close behind me.” Mara turned to the left. She urged her horse forward down a narrow
path over the top of the hill.
The trees grew dense on either side of their path as they rode down into the valley. Branches
brushed against Reika’s arms and shoulders as the evergreen trees crowded them on both sides. She
rested her hand on her sword pommel. “Prime spot for thieves.”
“Who would rob a pig farm?” Mara taunted as they crossed a small stream. “We’ll have to lead
them from here.” She swung down off of Elena. Reika dismounted Aeon and gathered his reins in her
hand. The path widened, and the branches of the trees intertwined, forming a twisted canopy over
their heads.
Mara walked with her mare in hand. The squeak of her saddle was loud in the forest quiet. The
short hairs on Reika’s neck stood up. The trees gave way revealing a stone arch. Carved images of
beasts Reika had only read about decorated the stones. A ruby-red spiral shone from the keystone.
Reika peered into the darkness. “Where does it lead?”
“To my home.” Mara tilted her head to the side and lifted both hands as she spoke a charm. The
spiral over the opening glowed red lighting their way. Reika’s skin tingled as they passed through the
arch and into the tunnel. Wide carved stones lined the way. Fitted pavers covered the floor of the
tunnel. As Mara progressed along the path, designs etched into the paving stones glowed white-hot to
light their way.
Wide-eyed, Aeon snorted. He sidestepped and tossed his head. “Easy,” Reika murmured soothing
sounds to him as she followed behind Mara. The stones glowed brighter as they traveled deeper into
the tunnel. Overhead thick beams held up the roof of the tunnel. At odd intervals other paths branched
out from the road they were on.
Mara walked steadily on through the underground maze. The short hairs on Reika’s neck prickled
as they traveled further into the mountain. If Mara were to abandon her here, she would have no hope
of ever finding her way out. Their path shifted, rising at a steep incline. Without the sun to guide her,
Reika had no way to judge their time under the mountain. The sensation of being watched settled over
her shoulders. She swept her gaze around seeking the source of her discomfort.
“You’ll not be able to see them, love. The ancient ones who guard this place will not appear
unless I summon them. Almost there, my sweet.” Mara glanced at Reika over her shoulder. “If you
ever need to traverse the tunnel without me, trust your gut and the way will be revealed to you.”
“I’d rather I didn’t have to go anywhere without you.” Reika lifted her hand to her heart. Sweat
trickled down her back wetting her undershirt. Wind swirled about them. Reika shivered as the icy
blast rolled over her.
“I as well, but just in case, remember, you carry my mark on your skin. It will not lead you
astray.”
She turned from Reika. The light from the stones faded as the tunnel ended. They emerged on the
wide ledge above a deep canyon.
Reika squinted against the sunlight and studied the rock walls surrounding them. Dark grey with
white streaks, they were smooth, almost as if carved with hammer and chisel. The walls rose high on
all sides, their end not visible from where Reika stood. Scrub pine dotted the rocky landscape below
them and scented the air.
“Hold.”
“Hold yourself, you old goat.
“My lady, is it really you?” A warrior, head and shoulders taller than Reika, with jet black eyes
and dark brown skin peered into Mara’s face. She was handsome, shapely, with thick thighs and
broad shoulders. Reika blinked and worked hard to smooth her expression as she studied the large
horns that curled up and backward from the warrior’s forehead. Spiral tattoos, the mirror of the one
that Reika bore on her belly, graced each cheek. Dressed in chainmail and leggings, she carried a
double-headed battle-ax in one hand that Reika doubted she could lift even with the gift of strength
Mara had provided her.
“Yes. Is it well with you, Hazor?” Mara smiled and held out her hand. Hazor took her hand and
pressed her lips to the back of it and then lifted it to her forehead before she released it.
“Now you’re here, yes. I feared we would never see you again. Who have you brought us?” Hazor
eyed Reika as if she were a table spread with sweetmeats.
Reika inclined her head. “I am Reika Na’ Mhadaidh.”
 “I’m Hazor Na’ Mahon. Your gambeson is delightful. I haven’t seen work like that before. Any
friend of Mara’s is a friend of mine.”
“Reika helped me escape from Aaron and end his existence.” Mara placed her hand on Reika’s
forearm, “She is my bonded companion, Hazor.”
“Understood, my lady.” She inclined her head toward Reika. “As I serve my lady, it will be with
you.”
“Well met, Hazor, and thank you.” Reika placed her hand over her heart. The snap of a twig set
her senses tingling. She moved to the right, giving herself room to draw her sword if needed.
“How many are you?” Mara inclined her head toward the edge of the dense woods.
“Enough.” Hazor shifted her gaze to the forest in the direction Mara had indicated and then back
to Mara’s face. “I’ll speak with my lady later of such things if it pleases you.”
“As you wish, Hazor,” Mara peered into the forest. She raised her hand and pushed a pulse of
shimmering magic in the direction of the dark clearing. A flock of brightly colored birds with hooked
bills took flight in a mad rush, screaming and squawking as they flew.
Reika drew her sword and shifted her feet into fighting stance. She swept her gaze over the
forrest.
“Stand down, love. They’re gone.” Mara clasped her hands in front of her waist.
“Goddess, I have missed you.” Hazor’s booming laugh broke the tension. “How long will they be
like that?”
“Long enough to learn spying on a Goddess is rude.”
“Are you hungry, my lady? Would you like to eat first or bathe in the waters?” Hazor rested her
hand on her hip.
“Waters first, then food.”
“Give me your mounts. You know the way to the springs. I’ll send Micaela to arrange your
rooms.”
Mara passed her reins to Hazor. She lifted her saddlebags from the back of her horse.
Reika patted Aeon’s shoulder. “Behave” She handed Hazor his reins.
Whispering to the horses, Hazor led them away. From the woods, there appeared a troop of
horned women. They all faced Mara, touched their hands to their foreheads before they turned, closed
ranks, and followed Hazor down the hill. The group disappeared into the woods with their mounts.
Reika chewed her lips as she watched Aeon depart.
“Don’t worry, love. They will be well cared for. You can trust her and everyone here.
“Are there no men?”
“No. Only women are allowed to protect the springs.” Mara’s jaw tightened. “Before my empire
was destroyed, there were magical healing springs throughout Mahon. The Sons of Aaron poisoned
most of them with dark magic before they buried them. They tracked down and murdered most of the
guardians of the spring while I was imprisoned. Hazor was able to gather the remaining guardians
here.”
Reika studied Mara’s expression. A delicate rim of amber flame shone around her dark eyes, a
glimmer of the rage that simmered below her calm exterior.
Mara shook her cloud of curls back before she looped her arm through Reika’s. “Time enough to
discuss all of that later. I am eager to begin your transformation. There’s a house by the spring where
we can undress. They’ll bring your armor and weapons to our room.”
“Where are we?” Reika let Mara lead her away from the tunnel down a rocky slope. The air
around them became humid, and the sound of bubbling springs crashed off the rocks.
“The most magical place left in Mahon.”
 2

T he slope flattened out to large smooth boulders that bordered a stepwell. Water bubbled and
splashed from a cleft in the rock on the far side of the pool. Wide steps lead down to the
water. Steam rose from its surface as if it were a cauldron. A windowless wooden building
perched on the edge of the stones. Painted bright yellow, blue spirals decorated it in a repeating
pattern. A winding stone path led to the round door of the house. Mara flipped the latch and then
opened the door. She snapped her fingers as she entered. Candles set in wide holders flamed to life,
bathing the room's interior in a soft yellow glow.
“Come here, my love.” Mara hung her saddlebags on a peg by the door before unbuckling the
wide belt holding her blouse closed. She tossed her belt onto a low bench. “You did well in hiding
your surprise at Hazor’s appearance.”
“I expect in this timeline I will see and meet many beings I have only heard tales about.” Reika
slipped the buckle on her sword belt and placed it on the small table in the middle of the room before
crossing to Mara. Mara plucked the gambeson’s fasteners open one by one and then slipped her hands
inside. She fluttered her fingertips over Reika’s nipples.
Reika leaned into her touch as Mara stroked and teased her breasts. “You promised me a surprise
when we reached here.”
“So I did.” Mara stepped back. “Turn your back to me and finish what I started.”
Reika turned away and stripped off the rest of her clothes. The sounds of Mara's undressing
piqued her curiosity and her desire. The clink of the saddlebag buckles being opened and then the
rustle of fabric had her anxious to turn around.
“Close your eyes.” Mara whispered in her ear.
Reika obeyed.
Mara slipped her hands around Reika’s waist, cool leather pressed against her skin. “Spread your
legs for me.”
Reika’s desire slicked her thighs as she set her feet wide. Mara settled a smooth leather disk
against her body and buckled it into place. The rub against her was exquisite. The click of a spring
being wound pricked her ears.
“Open your eyes.”
Reika looked down at the device that she now wore. “What is it, my love?”
Mara flicked her finger over a geared mechanism setting off a vibration against Reika’s clit. “A
vibro-chronometer. Another invention I had Debra retrieve from the future.”
Reika flushed as the thought of Debra handling so intimate a device. The steady hum against her
clit started to build. “It’s,” she panted. “It’s intense. Oh —.”
Mara nipped and kissed her way along Reika’s neck as she teased her fingers over her clit before
she slipped inside. “Do you like it?”
Reika groaned and relaxed into Mara’s arms. She gave over to the twin stimulation as Mara kept
her strokes in time with the clockwork device. Reika arched into her touch, seeking more, pleasure
building in her belly. “What happens if I don’t find completion before the mechanism is unwound?”
Mara shifted her touch, rubbing the spot inside that made Reika gasp and buck her hips. “Do you
think that will be a problem?”
Reika shouted as she came, Mara’s voice and the sweep of her fingers all she needed to send her
over. Deep aftershocks shook her body. She leaned over the table and braced herself on her elbows
as pleasure exploded through her body.
Mara’s deep laugh filled the cottage. Reika shuddered and gasped as the vibrating device sent her
spinning through several more screaming climaxes.
“Enough. Oh enough. I’m spent, Mara.” Reika gasped.
Mara flipped the switch to turn the device off before she unbuckled the belt and removed it. She
lifted Reika and lay her on her back on top of the table. The smooth wood was cool under her sweaty
skin. Mara’s eyes and skin glowed a soft amber in the dim light. She bent her head and took Reika
into her mouth. Gently she suckled her clit, slowly slid her tongue over her folds and soothed her
jittering nerves with the flat of her tongue. Reika grasped her shoulders and moaned softly as Mara
brought through a gentle rolling orgasm.
Mara lifted her face and kissed the inside of Reika’s thigh. “Not quite spent.”
Reika propped herself on her elbows and stared at her lover’s glistening chin and face. “Kiss
me.”
Mara prowled up her body and lay over her. The table squeaked with their movements as she
pressed her lips to Reika’s. Reika held tight to Mara and shifted their positions until Mara lay on her
back. Reika eased off the table. She bent over Mara and used her teeth to untie her pants, nuzzling her
belly as she did.
Mara smoothed her hand over her shoulders and neck. Reika’s skin tingled everywhere she
touched, the magic rising between them.
Reika slid Mara’s breeches down, exposing her. The spicy warm scent of her desire rose from her
skin. Reika’s mouth watered, and she licked a trail down to the apex of Mara’s thighs. “I’ve wanted
you all day.” She opened her mouth and covered her, licking and sucking the sweet salt honey that
flowed from her. With quick strokes she drove Mara up, held her there for as long as she dared.
Mara’s nails dug into her shoulder. She pursed her lips and sucked hard. Mara’s bone-rattling groan
as she spilled was Reika’s reward.
She stood, pressed her fingers inside, and then bent her head to her breast. She took her nipple
into her mouth. The rough firmness hardened under her tongue. Mara’s hand on the back of her neck
held in place as the Goddess arched into her strokes, her heels kicking against Reika’s back driving
her on. Reika thrust hard and deep, savoring the clutch of Mara around her fingers.
“Take it, my love. All of it. All of me.” Mara’s body trembled and her skin glowed with blue
flame as she came undone. Her deep groans echoed off the ceiling. Brightness filled the room. The
candles flared and magic swirled around and between them.
The spiral tattoo graven on Reika’s belly glowed brightly. Pleasure flowed from it to her clit as
Mara shared her joy. Headlong they flew over the waves of desire and love, their bodies joining as
one. Mara held tight and touched Reika’s spirit with her magic. “You are forever mine, Reika, my
love. We will always be as one from now until the rivers of time cease to flow. In my arms, or out of
them, my love will protect and heal you from all things. From this day forward, you will not age. No
arrow may pierce you. No blade may cut you. No disease will sicken you. No poison exists that will
kill you. Only when time stops will you stop. This is my gift to you if you accept it.”
Reika lifted her chin. “I do. I will be your companion until time ceases, forsaking all others. I give
you my body, my spirit, my sword, all that I am, now and forever.”
Mara cupped her face and kissed her. “My love is eternal, Reika, as you will be.”
Reika leaned her brow against Mara’s head. “As is mine, my goddess of time.” Her chest
squeezed tight, and she cried out as the world spun and faded from her view.

MARA CARRIED REIKA’ S LIMP BODY FROM THE SHACK. THE ROAR OF THE CASCADING FALLS LOUDER AS
she summoned the spirits of the springs. She held Reika close to her chest as she spoke the incantation
that would forever change her.
The heated water of the springs caressed her toes as she strode down the gentle slope of the
stairs. She continued until she was waist-deep in the steaming pool. She lowered Reika until she was
completely submerged. Mara held on to her as she sank beneath the clear water. Tiny bubbles escaped
her nose as the waters of time filled her lungs. Mara chanted and sang of her desires as she channeled
the power of the spring and used its magic to fuse their souls. The bubbles ceased.
A burning pain tore through Mara’s chest as Reika went slack in her arms. She cried out as the
pain increased, held tight to her lover as the magic took hold. The pain rose and spilled over her
body, vicious and overwhelming. It raged through her soul. Mara shouted the final words of their
binding, declaring her eternal love to the stones and spirits of the spring.
The pain ceased. Mara lifted Reika from the water. Water cascaded from Reika’s body, and steam
rose from her skin as she raised her from the heated pool. Mara lifted her, held her close, and kissed
her. Warm water slid from Reika’s mouth and spilled between them. Mara pulled back and studied
her face. Reika’s body jerked. Mara tightened her grip and waited. Another series of jerks racked her
body and then Reika coughed harshly. Her eyes fluttered open. Water dripped from her eyelashes and
down her cheeks.
Her brows drew down. “Mara?”
Mara clutched Reika to her chest. “Yes, love.” She turned and carried Reika from the spring.
“What happened? How are we in the spring?”
“You died, love.”
Reika shuddered in her arms. “What? How is that possible?”
“You died. And are now reborn.” Mara studied Reika’s eyes, searching their depths for
understanding. Worry nipped at her. It was one thing to desire to be immortal. It was another to
undergo the ritual. “Only by dying could you become undying.”
They climbed steadily. Once they reached the shore she lowered Reika until she was standing.
She held on to her arm until she was sure she was steady on her feet.
Reika stepped back and ran her hands over her body. She rested her palm over her chest. “How is
that possible? My skin is warm, my heart beats.”
“Yes. And will always. You are as I am. You are immortal.
“I’ll live forever?”
 “Unless you choose to end your existence yourself, other than that, only my magic can undo what
has been done,” Mara shifted her gaze from Reika’s face and shoved away the dark memories of
Roslyn. Mara set her teeth on her lower lip and studied Reika’s expression. “It is what you said you
wanted— is it not so?”
Reika glanced up at Mara. “Yes. I—". She swept Mara into her arms. “It is. Thank you for this
gift. My Goddess. My mate.” She cupped Mara’s face and kissed her, burning all of Mara’s worries
away with her scorching kiss.
 3

H azor slid a large pitcher toward Mara. “Don’t hold back. There is plenty more.” The hall was
crowded with guardians. They sat shoulder to shoulder at long tables. The remains of their
supper, a rich blend of roasted vegetables over spiced grains, filled the air. Laugher broke
through the low murmur of voices.
Peace settled over Mara as she surveyed her protectors. Memories of other nights and other great
halls eddied in her mind. So many years, so much time, and so many empires lost to Aaron. She shook
her head to clear her dark thoughts. Her body still hummed from her bonding with Reika. Her lover
sat thigh to thigh, and Mara leaned against her. Reika slid her arm around Mara’s waist and left it
there. Her touch grounded Mara and anchored her in the moment.
Mara lifted the jug. “More, love?”
Reika pushed her cup nearer to Mara. “Yes, please.”
Mara filled first Reika’s cup and then her own. She passed the pitcher back to Hazor.
“Hazor, this is delicious. What is it?” Reika sipped from her cup.
“Translated into Trader speak, it’s called ‘Tongue Loosener’. It’s fermented honey and herbs.”
Hazor plucked two flatbreads from a platter before she passed it to Reika. She used the bread to
mop up the last bits of her meal.
Reika laughed and took another sip. “Well named, I’m sure.” She took a slice of brown bread and
placed it on her plate. “Bread?”
Mara lifted her chin. “The flatbread, please.”
Reika placed a thick circle of the fried bread on Mara’s dish.
Mara lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “Now, we’ve distracted ourselves long enough. Tell
me all, Hazor. What resources do we have?”
Hazor sat back in her chair. “We are five thousand strong. More can be persuaded to fight, but
even with their help, the Sons of Aaron are at least thirty thousand. And that doesn’t count the beasts
he created to fight for him.”
“What of Lilith? I haven’t been able to see her in my scrying mirror for two years.”
Hazor rubbed the tip of one horn with her fingers. “I’m not sure. Her castle is abandoned. Her
people fled after the Sons of Aaron attacked it two years ago.”
Mara shifted in her seat and stretched out her legs. “I watched the battle in my scrying mirror.
Some magic disrupted my viewing. I wasn’t able to watch until the end. I haven’t been able to break
through the spell see anything of my sister or her castle.” Mara sipped from her cup. The warm brew
settled her anxious stomach. Lilith and her partnership with Faazia was key to their success. Without
the fiery goddess and Faazia’s support, they would be hard-pressed to defeat the Sons of Aaron.
“That fits. I believe she’s being held in her castle with the magic Aaron used to bind you. In the
same way I couldn’t see you in the temple pool.” Hazor shifted her gaze to the top of the table. “My
lady, if you had not sent word through Debra I would have lost hope. We all would have.”
Reika placed her cup on the table “Aaron’s dead. Wouldn’t any spells he cast have ended when he
died? There have been six new moons since.”
Mara placed her hands flat on the table, the wood chill under her palms. “Could she be dead?”
Hazor pursed her lips. “Possible. But I don’t think so. The Sons of Aaron need Faazia’s people to
fight with them. The threat of Faazia and the empire of Adir fighting alongside them is the only way
they have held the south. I don’t believe she would pledge her people to fight unless she was
coerced.”
“But how are they holding her?” Reika poured herself another cup of sweet brew.
“Some of Aaron’s priests were as powerful as he was. And if they have disarmed her, taken her
ability to wield fire, taken the sword of justice from her, she would be at an extreme disadvantage.”
Hazor rested her forearms on the table.
“And Faazia would not attack out of fear they would kill Lilith. They would use their love for
each other to manipulate them. The last I saw of the battle, Lilith was battling Ebronah and Ebal in the
courtyard with Faaiza at her back. Then the mirror went dark.” Mara leaned her chin on her hand.
Reika shifted in her chair. “Let’s find the priests and kill them to break the spell.”
“If it were as simple I would have done so.” Hazor’s brows drew down. “I went to the castle,
searched for soul stones or some other spell anchor. There were none. When I approached the castle
it seemed to shift, to shimmer as if it wasn’t’ there. It’s like walking into a dream. Nothing is solid. I
doubted my mind.” Hazor drained her cup.
Mara placed her hand on Hazor’s arm. “I don’t doubt your mind, Hazor. Aaron trained Ebal and
Ebronah as if they were his sons. They are masters at deception and are powerful. Together their
strength was equal to Aaron’s.” She squeezed her arm lightly. “Thank you for saving what you could
of Mahon. Without you, not even these few would remain.”
Hazor lifted her gaze to Mara's eyes. “You are welcome, goddess.”
A youngling arrived at their table bearing a tray of sweet treats. Small tufts of red and green
feathers peeked from her around her horns and stuck out at odd places on her body. Evidence she had
been among the group spying on her arrival. Mara covered her mouth to hide her smile. The youngling
kept her eyes down as she placed the tray of sweetmeats on the table. She turned to leave.
Hazor tapped the table with a thick forefinger. “Wait. Do you not have something to say to our
Goddess?”
“I am sorry if I disturbed your arrival, my lady.” She lifted her chin. “I only wanted to know our
plans to restore your Empire. Even if my mother thinks I’m not old enough to know such things.”
Mara leaned back in her chair and studied their server. “Gwen? You were in nap cloth last I saw
you.”
Gwen touched the spiral on her forehead and then bowed from the waist. “Yes, Goddess.”
“I wasn’t allowed to attend in the great hall until I was three hundred-fifty.” Hazor sniffed. “Two
hundred seventy-five and thinks she knows everything.”
“I only want to help, Ma. To take my place as a guardian.” Gwen crossed her arms over her chest
and widened her stance. “I am not afraid of the Sons of Aaron or their sorcery.”
“Your time will come, Gwen. We will restore Mahon. And we will need everyone who can wield
an ax to do it.”
 Gwen opened her mouth to speak again. Mara held her hand up, palm out, “Do not bring strife to
our discussion.”
Gwen closed her mouth and lowered her chin to her chest. She lay her hand over her heart.
“Forgive me, my Goddess.”
“Granted.”
“Would you grant me a petition? Please let me accompany you on your trip to seek Lilith. I was
her ward for five seasons when Ma was off fighting. You’ll need someone to look after the horses.
I’m fluent in all the languages of Mahon. You’ll not find anyone as well versed in our lore. And I
know the castle, above and below ground. I could walk it in my sleep.” Gwen’s words tumbled from
her mouth.
“I’ll not let you waste your petition. Even if I would be inclined to take you with us, I’ll not go
against your Ma’s wishes.”
Hazor pursed her lips and leaned forward. She clasped Gwen’s hand. “You’d give up your one
petition to serve the Goddess?”
“I would, Ma. Empress Fazzia would never serve Aaron. And Lilith would never abandon her
people. She needs our help. They need our help. I can feel it—” Gwen placed her hand over her
heart, “here.”
“Your love and loyalty for Lilith is great. If Mara agrees, I’ve no objection.” Hazor turned her
dark eyes to Mara. “I trust the Goddess to protect you, even from yourself.”
Mara turned to Reika. “What do you think, my love? Could we use another to travel with us?” She
rested her hand on Reika’s forearm and squeezed lightly, pausing to peer into her lover’s eyes. Reika
held her gaze. Silent understanding passed between them.
Reika inclined her head toward Gwen. “If she’s as skilled with an ax as she is negotiating with
the two of you, she is welcome and well met.”
Mara shifted her gaze to Gwen and Hazor. “We leave in two days, Gwen. You’ll need to find a
mount that will keep up with ours. We may not return for many seasons. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Goddess.” Gwen bent over her Ma and touched the tips of her horns to Hazor’s,
evidence of the love between them. Hazor released Gwen’s hand. “My heart sings with your bravery,
Gwen Na’ Mahon, guardian of Mahon, keeper of the Healing Springs.” She lay her hand over her
heart. “My daughter, go with my blessing.”
Gwen kneeled and touched her hand to the spiral tattoo on her forehead and then to her heart.
“Thank you, Ma. Thank you, Goddess.”
“Look at me, Gwen.” Mara waited until Gwen had lifted her gaze. “You will obey me in all
things. You will obey Reika in all things. You will speak freely when asked a question. And you will
keep my identity secret as we travel. I am not ready for Ebal and Ebronah to know where I am. You
will call me Mara.”
“Yes, Mara.” Gwen's voice resonated with the determination of a guardian.
“Good. Now get up. Fetch us another jug and bring your cup. I want to know everything you
remember from your time at the castle.”

REIKA OPENED THE DOOR TO THEIR ROOM. A BANKED FIRE CAST EVERYTHING IN A FADED RED GLOW .
She paused with her hand on her knife handle and swept her gaze over the room. “It’s clear.”
 “We are safe here, love.” Mara strode past her and entered the chamber. “Of all the places in
Mahon, I feel most secure here.”
Reika studied Mara’s face as she closed the door. “And yet I see worry in your eyes.” She
unbuckled her belt and hung it on a peg by the door.
“Not for our safety.” She tilted her head to the side and held out her hand. “Come here. I crave
your touch. Make me forget everything for a while.”
“Even after our time in the springs? Are all goddesses so insatiable?” Reika kept her tone teasing.
The iron lock rattled into place as Reika bolted the door behind her.
Mara rested her hands on her hips. “I don’t know about all goddesses but this one has many years
to make up for.”
Reika crossed to Mara, cupped her face in her hands and kissed her. Mara rested her hands on
Reika’s waist. She rubbed her thumbs over Reika’s hip bones. Taking her time, Reika moved her hand
to cup Mara’s neck as she nibbled her way down the smooth column of her throat. Reika pressed her
nose against the soft curls near her ear and inhaled the rich scent of her skin. “I love the way you
smell.”
Mara tightened her grip on Reika’s hips and gasped when Reika nipped her ear. She tilted her
head to the side. Reika plucked at the laces of Mara’s gown. “This is in my way.” She worked the
laces loose. The gown's bodice gapped, and she shoved the dress down over Mara’s shoulders. Her
dark skin shone in the firelight. Reika kissed her way down to her breasts.
Mara pushed Reika away. “Let me.” She shrugged and wiggled out the gown. Once naked, she
kicked it aside and stood before Reika with her hands on her hips.
“No under trousers? In the great hall?” Reika mocked her as she hauled her into her arms. The
press of Mara’s hard nipples against her shirt sent a bolt of desire between her legs. She bent and
captured a nipple in her mouth. Mara cupped the back of her head, her short nails digging into Reika’s
scalp. Reika sucked hard, savoring the turgid flesh before she switched to the other.
Mara’s deep groans and the scent of her desire rose in the air between them. Reika teased her
fingers over the soft curves of her belly before she dipped inside. Slick heat enveloped her. She
stroked the wetness over Mara’s clit. Her mouth watered. Need wound its way through her, and she
sank to her knees. She dug her fingers into Mara’s firm flesh and nosed the tight curls between her
legs.
Mara palmed the top of her head, her breath ragged. “Don’t make me wait.” She panted and
shoved her hips forward. Reika took her in her mouth, tickled her tongue over her clit, savored the
flavor of her desire on her tongue. She squeezed her thighs together to soothe the ache that had settled
between her legs.
Mara rocked into her mouth. Reika matched her rhythm, sucking and licking. She slowed, backed
off, flicking her tongue over her labia and then back to the hard bud of her clit.
“Don’t tease. Please. I need—I want—”, Mara panted.
“Trust me,” Reika whispered. “I’ll get you there.”
Reika slid one finger deep and teased the spot that made Mara’s hips buck seeking more. She
added a finger. Desire coated her hand. She peered up at Mara. Her heavy breasts swayed as her
chest rose and fell. Mara’s eyes were closed, her face blissful. Reika’s heart squeezed hard in her
chest. Mara was hers and hers alone. No matter who she was to others, she was foremost Reika’s
mate. Bending to her, she suckled her clit in time with her strokes. Mara’s groans rattled off the
ceiling as she clung to Reika. Her desire dripped down Reika’s wrist. Reika closed her eyes,
absorbing their energy, the love that flowed and ebbed around them.
 Mara cried out, her body clenched around Reika’s fingers, and a gush of sweetness flooded her
mouth. She swallowed and licked, gorged herself on Mara’s release.
“Enough. For now. Enough.” Mara pushed weakly at Reika’s shoulders.
Reika nuzzled the inside of her soft thigh before she stood. Mara’s skin gleamed with sweat. She
swayed as she lifted a hand to her brow. Reika swept her into her arms and strode to the bed. She lay
her on the mattress. Mara held her gaze as Reika stripped off her clothes.
“Come here.” Mara crooked her finger.
Reika lay over her, pressed her naked flesh to her lush body. She held her gaze as she thrust three
fingers deep. “I can’t get enough of you.”
Mara spread her legs wide. “Take what you need, my love.” She wrapped her arms around
Reika’s neck and drew her into a long kiss.
Reika eased another finger inside.
Mara panted as she held her gaze, her pupils blown wide. “Do it. Give me all of you.”
Reika turned her hand, tucked her thumb and rocked forward.
Mara cried out, wrapped her legs around Reika’s waist. She arched up to meet her slow thrusts as
she rocked into her. Mara’s body welcomed her and blossomed as she came. Reika kissed her,
swallowed her cries as she slowed her thrusts. She made to ease her way from Mara’s body.
Mara opened her eyes. “No. Stay. Please.”
Reika stilled. “As long as you wish.”
“Forever?”
The question in her eyes broke Reika. She blinked the tears that threatened away. “Until the river
of time runs dry.”
Mara’s fingers trembled against her lips. “And after?”
“For as long as my spirit exists, I am yours.”
Mara pulled her in for another kiss. She rocked her hips. “Take me again, love. We’ll not have a
bed nor privacy on our journey.”
 4

“W elowshould walk in from here.” Gwen reined her horse in next to a stand of narrow trees and
brush.
Reika surveyed the valley. On the other side of the valley and across from their vantage point, a
waterfall poured into a swift river below. Thick blocks of ice splashed into the pool at the bottom of
the falls. The river ran a straight course through the middle of the valley. Wide with steep banks, it
frothed and raged with the water from the spring thaw. Chunks of ice floated down the stream and
crashed into large rocks that interrupted the river's flow. Dense forests covered the hills on both sides
of the valley before they thinned near the river. The trees gave way to a narrow plain dotted with low
brush. The steep banks were edged by boulders.
In the distance, the walls of the quadrangle-shaped castle rose from the plain. Pentagonal bastions
protected its corners. From the center square, a circular tower jutted, three floors of the castle were
visible above the towering walls. It was topped by a parapet with ports for archers. The walls were
shattered and broken. The bastions breached in places. What could move that much earth? It was as if
a great animal had decided to dig out the tower as its den. Or to find the tasty inhabitants within as a
bee badger destroyed hives, ignoring the bees as it gorged itself.
Reika shrugged off her dark thoughts and straightened her shoulders. She stood in her stirrups to
assess more of the castle. The walls shimmered, and the image of the castle wavered before twisting
and morphing as she watched. She rubbed her eyes. “I see what you mean, Hazor. It’s like a vision I
once had in the South Lands when I had miscalculated my water ration and didn’t know my name.”
Mara turned in her saddle to face Gwen. “Do you see the castle as it was, or do you see ruined
walls that shift and ripple like a reflection in the water?”
“I see it as it has always been with Lilith’s banners flying from the walls, and they are intact.” She
frowned. “All is as it was, except it is empty. I see no guards in the watchtowers, and the Fire gate
stands open.”
Mara pursed her lips. “Hazor?”
“It is as before. Like I’ve been knocked in the head. When I stare at it, the image dances away
from me.”
“Gwen, you see the walls unbroken? The redoubts are whole?” Reika turned back toward the
castle.
“Intact, and the redoubts are whole.
Reika pulled her long glass from her saddlebag.
“Very nice.” Hazor’s brows lifted and she turned to Mara. “My lady, will you ask Debra if she
has time the next time you send her forth to bring me one as nice as this? My last is scratched and
hazed from time in my bag
Reika lifted the long glass to her eyes and slid the lower half in an attempt to bring the castle into
focus. Even with the glass, the castle appeared the same. She passed the glass to Hazor. “Is that as
you saw it before?”
Hazor held the glass to her eye, took her time adjusting it before she passed the glass back to
Reika, and turned to Mara. “It is the same for me. Mara, how is it for you?”
“I see what Gwen sees and a bit more.” Mara dismounted. “If we stay within the forest and travel
at night, we won’t draw the attention of the shades guarding the gate.”
Reika nodded and dismounted Aeon. Gwen, Mara, and Reika stripped their horses of their travel
packs and weapons.
Reika tied Aeon’s reins around the pommel. “This is where we part, Aeon. Listen to Hazor and
behave.” Aeon snorted and sidestepped before he returned to lay his head against Reika’s shoulder.
“I’ll come back for you.” Reika lay her cheek against his and stroked his shoulder. “Promise.”
“I’ll get him home safe, Reika. He’s a charm of a horse.” Hazor lifted her chin at Gwen. “Come
home with tales to tell in the great hall, either here, or in the hereafter.”
Gwen held her hand over her heart. “Until the river of time runs dry, Ma.”
“Until the river of time runs dry.” Hazor turned her horse from them. She whinnied and made a
series of clicks with her tongue. In an instant, the horses fell in line behind her, and they rode out of
the stand of trees and back the way they had come.
Reika watched until she could not see Aeon’s broad rump before turning away. Mara and Gwen
waited beside the trail, their packs on their backs. Mara settled two broad jeweled bracelets over her
wrists.
“A little fancy for the woods, Mara.” Reika grinned, picked up her pack, and shouldered it. She
tightened the straps, making sure her sword arm was unencumbered.
Mara quirked her mouth. “Indeed.”
Gwen turned and faced the castle. Mara fell in behind her, and Reika followed. The woods fell
silent as they traveled. Where there had been the chittering and flutter of wings and the scuttle of
creatures, there was none. Clouds slid across the sky, plunging the woods into darkness. Reika
loosened her sword in her scabbard.
Gwen paused as the trail narrowed. They drew abreast of each other—three tracks led from the
spot. One forward, one turned sharply to the right toward the river. The third turned left away into the
woods. Gwen pulled her ax free from her belt and then held it across her chest, battle-ready. “Lady—
I don’t think—” she whispered.
“No. We won’t continue this way. They know we are here. The instant we set foot on the plain,
they will attack us.” Mara spoke softly. She lay aside her bow, slipped her pack off her shoulders,
and leaned it against the trunk of a tree. Mara closed her eyes and held her hands out toward the
castle. She made subtle movements as if coaxing something toward them.
Reika drew her sword and long dagger. She backed up until her pack rested against the broad
trunk of a tree. Gwen did the same, mirroring Reika’s stance, her ax at the ready.
A lone shade appeared. Dressed in a hauberk decorated with small white flowers, its thin and
bony face glowed a soft green. Every exposed bit of skin was covered in open weeping wounds. It
rested its hands on its hips. A bashed helmet sat askew on its head. One eye was displaced from its
socket and lay on its cheek. A steady drip of green fluid flowed from its nose and from where the
crumpled helmet was joined with its skull. Its jaws hung agape, its lips in shreds. Rotten teeth sat at
odd angles in its gaping mouth. The short hairs on Reika’s neck stood up, and her skin prickled. The
shade's malice was palpable. Mara held her hands up, palms out toward the shade.
The shade’s lips curled up, exposing more of its foul teeth. “Eager to die, witches?” The shade
drew a curved blade and held it before him. “Who will be first?”
Mara cast forth a ball of blue light. Smoke rose from the forest floor. It wove around the shade.
The grey vapor morphed into chains. Tiny flames flickered, and the chains glowed red as if from a
forge.
“Stop. I’m burning. Mercy.” The shade’s sword fell from its bony hand.
“Answer my questions, ghoul, and I will give you rest. Or you can spend the rest of days as you
are now, wrapped in chains in a world of pain without end.” Mara’s voice was hard-edged. “Tell me
your name.”
“Do you swear to free me if I answer?” The shade’s words hissed out over his ragged teeth.
“The word of a Goddess is binding. Who would I swear to? Now, what’s your name?”
“Promise me you’ll free me from this curse?”
“I promise. Now speak.”
“Morgan. Senior Captain, Sons of Aaron, Scion of Ebal.” Morgan’s voice was stone scratching
on pavement, his words slurred.
“Morgan, is there another way into the castle?”
“What business do you have in the castle, witch?” Morgan’s lips flapped as he spoke.
Mara lifted a finger, and two more thick chains wrapped around Morgan. She spun her finger, and
the chains clanked as they tightened around Morgan’s body. He fell to his knees.
“None of your business. Now, what’s it to be? This?” Mara made a yanking motion with her
hands. Morgan rose in the air and dangled for a moment before he spun in a slow circle. He screamed
long and loud before Mara lowered him to the ground. “Or do you wish to be free?”
Morgan’s voice was thready, his face contorted, his pain evident even in death. “Behind the Veil
of Truth there’s a tunnel. It leads to the lower chambers behind the cistern. It is not for you. Only death
awaits anyone who enters the tunnels.”
“Really? You threaten a Goddess with death?”
“Goddess, my ass.” Morgan twisted in his bonds. “Free me, witch. You promised.”
“So I did.” Mara rose to her full height. Her hair brushed the highest branches as she towered
above them. She strode closer, forcing Morgan to look up. “Do you know the penalty for lying to a
Goddess?”
“Doesn’t matter. What could be worse than my living death?” Morgan twisted in his chains. “Free
me. I have not lied. Please.”
It was the ‘please’ that made Reika’s heart ache for the man. He had suffered a brutal death. What
power existed that could punish beings even in death? In Reika’s time, there was only the Void for the
wicked. An empty lonely place for those who were evil, not this hideous punishment.
“Indeed. What was your crime for such a curse, Morgan? Answer truthfully. I will know if you
lie.” Mara touched her fingers to her chin.
“My orders were for my company to slay everyone in the castle. I failed. We didn’t even make it
to the first level before my men and myself were killed. Ebal called my spirit back from my rest and
cursed me.” Morgan struggled against the smokey restraints. “Free me. You promised!” Green tears
fell from his eyes, snot flowed, and dripped down his face. “You promised.” His wet sobs
reverberated through the woods.
Reika lowered her sword, sheathed it, and returned her long knife to her belt. She studied Mara’s
face. Her gaze was fixed on Morgan. Her lips moved. Reika strained her ears to discern her words as
she watched.
The chains evaporated into grey smoke. Morgan rolled to his knees. He bowed his head and
rested his hands on his thighs.
Reika stifled her gasp as Morgan’s form shifted and dissolved, only to reappear as flesh. Naked,
his body was intact, and all of his wounds healed. His green skin had transformed to white. Reika
stared at his skin, so pale that he appeared translucent. Morgan was whole.
Morgan ran his hands over his body, lifted both hands to touch his head then pulled them away to
inspect them. He clasped his hands together in front of his chest. “You are no witch. Have mercy,
Goddess. Forgive me. Please send me from this place.”
Mara’s bracelets glowed and morphed into golden gauntlets. In her left hand a broad sword
appeared. Blue flame danced along its length. She clasped it with both hands, and with one stroke of
the blade she separated Morgan’s head from his body. Reika stared. No blood issued from Morgan as
his head tumbled from his neck. It came to rest next to his knees. His eyes closed, his expression
blissful. His body slumped forward. Blue and golden light surrounded him. Engulfed in the light his
body flared into flame. The fire burned brightly but cast no heat. In the space of ten heartbeats, the
ground where Morgan had knelt was covered in fine ash. The golden light swirled and lifted the ash
before carrying it away through the trees.
“Go, Morgan. Find your peace.” Mara lifted her sword to the sky. She closed her eyes and
returned to her human form. Her sword shrank in on itself until it disappeared. With a series of clicks
and snaps her gauntlets became bracelets again.
Reika blinked. Reminded of Mara’s raw power, she swallowed on a dry throat. This powerful
goddess had chosen her, above all others, as her mate.
Mara turned to her and tilted her head. Her gaze met Reika’s. “Still think I’m overdressed for our
trek? Should I find a pair for you?”
Reika laughed. “No, my love. I prefer to wear my sword as I always have.”
“I’d fancy a pair if you’re giving them out, my lady.” Gwen joined them. She inclined her head
toward the space where Morgan had been. “Do you trust what he told us, Mara?”
“Yes and No. I searched his mind. There is something in the tunnels. Not death. But he feared it as
much.”
Reika glanced at the sun. “Not long until night. What is the Veil of Truth?”
“It’s Aaron’s made-up name for the falls that empty into the valley. They will be flush with the
spring melt now. Even in summer, it’s treacherous to pass through the water to get to the caves behind.
The stones are slick, and the water is filled with broken shards of ice.”
“Why make up a name that sounds like a Tale-teller’s story?” Reika rested her hands on her hips.
“More of Aaron’s lies to control people. After they captured the castle, the Sons of Aaron spread
rumors that the river would sweep away all but true believers.” Gwen rolled her eyes. “It’s how he’s
kept anyone from attempting to cross the river or travel on it to return to the castle. When I lived here,
Lilith used the tunnels for her meetings with Faaiza. Back when they were trying to decide if they
were going to kill or kiss each other.” Gwen snorted. “They finally decided kissing was much better
than attempting to murder each other.”
“Is that how beings court each other in this time?” Reika did not attempt to stifle her shock.
“No. Just stubborn beings whose empires were at war for the three hundred years before Lilith
and Faaiza’s union brought peace.” Mara sipped from her water flask.
“Is it a forced union?” Reika peered into Gwen’s eyes. “Do they truly love one another?”
 “Their love is so bright it lights the sky. They just needed to figure it out.” Gwen walked to the
trailhead that turned away from the plain and toward the river. “If we run, we can be there before
sundown.”
Mara picked up her pack and slung it over her shoulders before she retrieved her bow. “A good
stretch of the legs sounds marvelous. I don’t want to have to send any more of these shades over to
their rest today.”
Reika set the loop to secure her sword in place. “Lead on, Gwen. I’ll be right behind you two.”
Gwen left the clearing with Mara close behind. Reika fixed her gaze on the trail and trotted after them
 5

T he roar of the waterfall echoed around them. The last rays of the sun glinted off the spray.
Mara studied the narrow path that disappeared behind the heavy curtain of falling water. No
wider than the span of her hand with no handholds, it would be a difficult trek even without
the heavy flow of water and the odd chunks of ice that crashed over the falls at random intervals.
“The most obvious is not the way.” Gwen pointed to a trail above their heads. Subtle handholds
and steps were worn into the rock wall. “This is the way. It leads into a natural break in the rock and
then behind the falls.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We’ll just make it if we hurry. It’s treacherous
after nightfall.”
Gwen wedged her hand into the first handhold. She pulled herself up using her legs to propel
herself to the next set of grips and footholds. Mara waited until she was two lengths ahead of her
before she started to climb. She listened for sounds of Reika climbing behind her.
Her warrior mate had been quiet since their interaction with the shade. Mara turned the events of
the afternoon over in her mind as she climbed. Had Reika been shocked? Or dismayed at Mara’s use
of her power? Or how she had handled Morgan’s ending? Gwen disappeared over the edge of the
wall. Mara hurried after her.
Behind her, Reika’s harsh breathing and continued mumbled swearing told her everything she
needed to know about her comfort with the climb.
“Not much farther, my love,” Mara called over her shoulder.
“Castor's holy trousers. Who would create such a difficult entrance to reenforce a castle? How
could you move a party of troops through here?”
“One that has lived a very long time and whose warriors can climb like spiders,” Gwen called
from the ledge.
Mara clasped Gwen’s hand and let her assist her as she clambered over the last bit. A stiff wind
blew a burst of mist from the waterfall, wetting the rocks and the ledge. She peered over the edge.
Reika made steady progress. Small puffs of her breath were visible in the cool air. Gwen came and
stood near her. Together they watched her lover make the final ascent. Mara chewed her lip as
Reika’s trembling hands grasped the stones just below her.
Gwen lifted her chin and inclined her head toward Reika.
Wordlessly they reached down and clasped Reika’s wrists, set their feet, and hauled her over the
edge.
“For all that’s good, please tell me we don’t have any more climbs like that.” Reika braced her
hands on her knees, her shoulders rising and falling with her gasps.
 “Nothing like that. From here it is a path, well-worn and wide. It leads directly under the castle.”
Gwen pointed to the opening across from them. “A yearling could do it.” She took a small bag from
her belt, opened the drawstring, and held it out to Mara. “Honey bite, Mara?”
“Good. This warrior likes her feet in stirrups or on flat ground.” Reika straightened. “I am
humbled by the two of you.”
Mara plucked a sweet treat from the bag. “I wasn’t kidding, love, when I called Hazor an old
goat. My guardians descended from goat-shifters.” She popped the honey and oat treat into her mouth
and chewed slowly, savoring the taste.
Gwen offered the bag to Reika, who waved her off. “Thank you, no.” And that explains so much.”
Reika laughed. “Stubborn. Headstrong. And fearless. And Lilith’s clan, are they truly descended from
spiders?” She took her water flask from her belt, uncorked it and sipped from it.
Mara shook her head. “No. Nothing quite so dramatic. Fire dragons. At one time the two empires
were one. Brennan, our mother, gave our people a choice. To remain in two-legged form with the life
span and strength of dragons or remain dragon-shifters, with lives split between the world of beings
and beasts. Many chose to remain two-legged. The empire split into two. Faazia’s people considered
those who chose to surrender their ability to shift ungrateful blasphemers and believed the empire
would fall if they could not fight as dragons.”
“And that led to an ages-long war.” Gwen’s brow furrowed. “No one should judge another for
their choices. Not for their desired state of being, nor their choice of mate or mates.”
“But they are united now? Through Lilith and Faazia’s union?” Reika recapped her flask and hung
it from her belt. “Why were they not able to defend the castle from the Sons of Aaron?”
“Adir did not come when Lilith called.” Gwen looked down and away. “They let Lilith’s empire
be taken. Every being who was not slain was stolen by the Sons of Aaron.”
Mara inclined her head. “I’ve known Faazia since she was a yearling. She would not have
abandoned Lilith willingly.” The sickly scent of starlight lily sifted into the cavern. She held up her
hand, signaling quiet. She lifted her chin and shifted her eyes toward the tunnel opening to the right of
them.
Gwen tucked her food bag away. Her ears twitched forward.
Reika slipped the loop on her sword and drew it.
Mara lifted her hands, clapped them together and formed a ball of light. She tossed it over their
heads to illuminate the space. “Come Faazia. Stand down. Talk to us. Where is my sister?”
Faazia stepped into the light. She held a large mace in her hand. The spikes caught the light,
reflected off the stone walls.
“Mara?” Her pale orange scales glittered over her twisted limbs. The mace wobbled in her grasp.
“Now? You come now? Where were you?”
Mara met Faazia’s glittering rage-filled eyes. “I came as soon as I could.”
“Go away. We’ve no need of you. Go or I’ll end you,” Faazia lifted the mace. The light glittered
off the spikes as she advanced toward them. The stench of her addiction grew more potent in the
cavern. “I’ve learned a trick or two since we last tested each other.” Faazia gestured with two
fingers. A bolt of yellow flame shot toward Reika.
Mara deflected it as Reika neatly sidestepped the blast. The fire burnt itself out on the stone floor.
“I will not fight you, Faazia. Rest.” She held her hand out and then brought her fingertips together.
Faazia’s eyes slid shut, and she crumpled to the floor.
REIKA SHEATHED HER BLADE. S HE STRODE TO F AAZIA. “DO THEY ALL SMELL LIKE THIS ?”
“It is the lily.” Mara joined Reika. “Bring her. We need to find a more secure place.” She rested
her hand on Reika’s arm. “She will be murderous when she wakes. I can ease some of her symptoms
when she rids herself of the drug, but she will wish she were dead and beg us to kill her before it is
over.”
“Give me your pack Reika.” Gwen held out her hand.
Reika shrugged out of her pack and passed it to Gwen. She bent and gathered Faazia’s limp body
in her arms . Reika straightened, shifted her grip and cradled her in her arms. “My saddle weighs
more.”
“The lily causes them to forget to eat.” Gwen lifted her chin. “There’s a side chamber not far from
here. This time of year there will be fresh water in the cistern.” She gestured to the ball of light. “Will
that follow us?”
“It will.” Mara caressed Faazia’s cheek. "I never thought she would fall to the lily."
"No one is immune to it, lady.” Gwen turned away from them. "We should go."
Reika studied the set of her shoulders, curious over Gwen's melancholy tone. Faazia murmured in
her sleep, a language Reika could not place, even with Mara's gift of understanding. "What is she
saying, my love?"
"She is calling to Lilith in a language I have not heard since I first came to this timeline. Can you
understand any of it?"
"No. It sounds like chirps and whistles to me."
Mara patted Reika's shoulder. "It is much more than that. I'll teach you. It's useful as very few
alive know it."
Reika followed Gwen, holding Faazia close to her chest. The path widened as it canted
downward at a steady slope and wound deeper into the mountain.
The path transitioned from packed earth and became a road covered in vast flat pavers. Smooth
stone walls arched over their heads. Mounted warriors would be able to walk four abreast and have
room to maneuver.
Reika marked the turns mentally as they traveled. Gwen stopped abruptly and turned to face a
section of the wall. She reached over her head and pressed a series of flat rocks. Stone scraped on
stone as a part of the wall rolled open to reveal a narrow passage.
Reika peered into the dark opening. She would have to turn sideways to pass with Faazia in her
arms. Tiny hairs rose on her neck as she studied the narrow space.
"Mara?"
Mara snapped her fingers. Light flared along the tunnel. Gwen led the way down the short
passage. At the end of the tunnel, Reika stepped into the room behind Gwen.
"Mara, protect us." Gwen cried out and dropped to her knees. Behind them a massive door slid
into place sealing them in the room.
In the middle of the cavernous space, a woman rested on a stone slab. Encased in a transparent
sphere, she was dressed in fighting leathers. Her hands clasped a sword that hovered over her chest.
Blue and yellow flames flickered along its length and cast an orange glow over her dark skin.
Reika swore softly. "Why are we invading a tomb? Is nothing sacred in this time?"
"Not a tomb, love. A prison. And this is why I haven't been able to see Lilith in my mirror.”
 Gwen rose to her feet. She lifted her ax as if to smash the sphere.
"No!" Mara shouted. "We have to destroy the soul stones first. If we destroy the sphere before the
stones, she will die. We have to destroy the magic at the source.”
"This is what she didn't want us to find." Reika inclined her head toward a cot near the sphere.
Dirty blankets covered its frame, and piles of clothes were scattered around the disheveled space.
“Mara, will you do something? I don’t want to lay her on this filth.” The scent of the lily was pungent
in the room. "Is it harmful to smell the lily?"
"No love, the petals must be processed and cooked to release its drug." She held her hands out
and made a sweeping motion. A tight spiral of wind swept around the room. It rushed over them and
then sped out the opening that led to the main tunnel carrying with it the heavy perfume of the flowers.
The blankets disappeared, replaced by clean linens and fresh rushes for the floor.
Reika lay Faazia gently on the narrow bed.
Mara crossed the room. In the far corner was a fire pit. "Undress her, Reika. Gwen, help me. We
won't be rid of the smell until we bathe her."
"What about Lilith?" Gwen carried her pack over and placed it beside the chimney.
"She has slept this long, she'll have to sleep a little longer.”
Reika turned to stare at Lilith's immobile form. "She's not dead?"
"Not a final death, love. She exists between times."
"She's in the Void?" Reika stepped back from the sphere.
"Of a sort. Not as you think of it. I don't know if I can explain it."
Reika knelt beside the cot. She unlaced the neck of Faazia’s tunic. Her scales were smooth under
her knuckles, her skin warm. Working quickly, she stripped off Faazia’s clothes. Other than her scales,
Faazia was made as Reika. Her bones were prominent, and her skin sagged. Reika avoided touching
the open sores covering her body. Green and yellow pus oozed from the sores and leaked on the bed.
Reika winced as she peeled Fazzia’s under-trousers off of her body. Faazia rolled her head from side
to side. She shouted and flailed her arms before her eyes blinked open briefly. Her pupils were
elongated as if she were a viper.
Reika started and swore under her breath. Faazia twitched and shook violently before she
collapsed onto the mattress.
Mara's hand on Reika’s shoulder calmed her. "Steady love, she dreams. She won't wake until I
release her."
Reika lay her hand over the back of Mara’s and looked up into her face. “This is a living death.
There were rumors of petal eaters in my time. Horrific stories told late at night of depraved acts they
committed while under its influence. I’ve never seen anything so pitiable in my life.”
 6

M ara inspected the room that held Lilith’s chamber as Gwen and Reika bathed Faazia.
The walls were smooth, hewed out of the mountain, the stone cutter’s marks still visible.
The ceiling reached so high the light did not reach the top. It was as if they had hollowed out
the top of the mountain.
Niches hewn into the walls served as storage areas and held a few books, empty food urns, and
other household sundries. An extended narrow cut in the wall was lined with pegs. A sword, a quiver,
and several bows hung from the wooden pegs. Unlike the other section of the room, this part of the
chamber was tidy. As Mara moved along the wall, a clump of fouled rags stuffed in a niche drew her
eye. Dark crimson-stained them. She pulled her knife from her belt and used the tip to move the rags.
The bundle fell to the floor. In the far recess of the niche were three glowing round stones arranged in
a triangle. Each stone was covered in symbols Mara recognized from her years of captivity. The
stones glowed brighter as she traced her fingers over Lilith’s name. She stopped short of touching
Ebal’s mark.
She turned from the wall. Faazia’s murmurs increased in volume as Gwen and Reika finished
applying salve to her wounds. Reika turned to Mara. “Will you be able to heal her?”
Mara crossed the room. “I can’t undo her addiction. She must choose for herself. I can ease the
way. We need to give her a reason to forgo the lily.” She laid her hand on Faazia’s forehead and sent
calming energy to her, renewing the sleeping spell. “That should hold off the worst of it for a while
longer.”
“I need water.” Gwen stood and stretched. “Give me your flasks and I’ll fill them from the
cistern.”
“Mine is tied to my pack. Take care, Gwen” Mara lifted her hand and cast a small sphere of light.
The glowing orb rose from her hand. It rose higher until it settled in the air over Gwen’s shoulders.
“That should help light your way.”
“I could run these tunnels in the dark, lady.” Gwen bent and untied Mara’s flask from her pack.
“I’m sure. But so could other beings who may not be happy we are here.”
“Should I go with her?” Reika stood and unfastened her flask from her belt.
“No love. She should be fine. I need you here.”
Gwen lifted a shaggy brow. “I won’t be that long, my lady.” A flush darkened her tawny skin.
“Unless you would like, um, some privacy.”
Mara’s laugh escaped her. “No. Gwen. Nothing like that. I need Reika to help me with some tests
on the sphere.”
 Gwen glanced at the floor and brought her gaze back to Mara’s face. “If I were so paired my lady,
I would not waste a moment of privacy.”
Mara lifted her chin. “I am not given to romantic pursuits while trying to rescue my sister. Go
now. And have no fear we will be dressed when you return.”
“Pity.” Gwen lifted her gaze to Mara’s and winked.
“I’m standing right here.” Reika rested her hands on her hips.
Gwen turned from them and left the chamber the way they had come.
Reika huffed a breath. “The impetuous nature of youth.” She rubbed her chest. “I will never let my
guard down in the midst of a war again.”
Mara turned to peer at her lover. “You do not trust me?”
“I trust you, have trusted you with my life, Mara.” She lifted Mara’s hand and placed a kiss over
her knuckles. Her breath caressed Mara’s skin. “But I would that we were in a more secure place and
not have to worry about rushing my affection.” She lifted her gaze to Mara’s. “I want to gorge myself
on you, my love, and will the first chance we get.”
Mara stepped close to Reika, cupped her chin and kissed her. A short kiss, full of promise.

“ARE YOU READY, LOVE?” MARA TESTED THE KNOTTED CORD ABOUT HER WAIST .
Reika’s brow wrinkled. “Are you sure this tether will hold?”
“It is infused with my power and magic. It will hold.”
Reika pressed her lips together and turned to face the sphere surrounding Lilith. She lifted her
hand, paused, and gave Mara a long look.
“You don’t have to if you’re afraid, love.”
“The only thing I fear is being separated from you.”
“As long as this connects us, it is impossible. Nothing will ever separate us.”
Reika turned back to the sphere. She lifted her foot and strode forward. The transparent wall
flexed and admitted her. Through the cord around her waist Mara sensed Reika’s pulse and her
breathing. Reika turned to her. The sphere distorted her features. Her mouth moved, but no sound
crossed the barrier. Mara shook her head in the negative.
Reika shrugged. She walked around the stone table holding Lilith’s body. The tether around
Mara’s waist grew taut. Reika stopped at the limit of the rope. She circled back the other way. She
paused to stare down at Lilith’s face. Mara watched Reika’s lips move. She sensed her desire to free
Lilith. A tendril of jealousy wove its way through her. She shook her head. What had she to fear from
a mated goddess? Her own sister? Reika was honorable. She would never betray Mara’s trust.
At that moment, Reika looked up and into Mara’s eyes. She held her gaze a long moment and then
gestured to the sword that rested on Lilith’s chest. Mara nodded her assent.
Reika gently removed Lilith’s hands and lifted the sword clear. Its blue flame flickered and
flared. Reika held tight to it. The point of the blade exited first followed by Reika. The sphere closed
up behind them.
“What now, love?” She eyed the flame. “How are you supposed to sheathe it?”
“You don’t.” Mara untied the tether from her waist. “It is kept on display in Lilith’s temple. The
sword of justice is only wielded to dispense final justice.”
“It’s an executioner’s sword.” Her face twisted in disgust.
 “It’s much more than that.” She held out her hand. Reika passed it to her. Mara clasped the sword
in one hand. The flame changed, flaring to a bright yellow. Reika stepped back. “It is the source of
Lilith’s power. Without it, Lilith and the rest of her clan cannot access their gifts. They are weak and
lack the will to fight.”
Reika lifted her shoulder. “When I held it, I could feel its magic surging through me.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Why am I able to cross the barrier?”
“You are not from this time. To the barrier’s magic you are invisible.”
Reika lifted her eyebrow. “Could I bring Lilith out with me? Would my energy shield her?”
“No. The enchantment is too powerful. It would kill her.”
“And then I would kill you.”
Mara and Reika turned toward the disembodied voice coming from the antechamber.
 7

F aaiza entered the chamber. Her eyes were glassy. Her body jerked and twitched as she raised
her sword. “Leave now.” Her lips peeled back from her teeth, exposing sharp yellow fangs.
“We don’t need any more of your interference, goddess.”
Reika shifted closer to Mara. “Calm down friend. We’re only here to help.”
“Help?” Faaiza crossed the room to the sphere. She placed her hand on the sphere. “This. This is
what happens to people who depend on a capricious goddess. And now you defile the Sword of
Justice with your filthy hands? Have you no shame?”
“Faaiza, I would have come if I were able. Aaron had me trapped in a similar sphere. Reika
rescued me. And I am telling the truth, else I would not be able to hold the sword.”
“Liar. You fled. Abandoned your people. Left Lilith alone.” Her tongue flicked out over her fangs.
“I should end you now.”
“You and what army?” Reika lowered her hands to her waist. “Put the sword down. Now. I don’t
want to take advantage of your condition but I will not have you speak to my mate that way.”
“Faaiza, you’re sick. The lily has fouled your mind. Let us lay aside our weapons and talk. My
only desire is to restore Lilith to her throne and help you all shed the Sons of Aaron’s shackles.”
Mara lay the sword on a low stone table and backed away.
A fine sweat broke out along Reika’s brow. Faaiza’s glittering eyes shifted to the sword.
“Coward. Afraid to face an equal.” She stepped closer and aimed the tip of her blade at Mara’s chest.
Reika stepped in front of Mara. She drew her long knife. “Stand down. Last warning.”
A long hiss sounded behind her. A cold wind blew through the room. “Reika! Watch---.”
Faaiza thrust her blade as the sound of Mara’s voice cut off. Reika deflected the blow with her
knife and cuffed Faaiza.
Faaiza stumbled and bellowed. Quick as a cat, she regained her feet. She flashed her fangs and
hissed as she swung her sword. The vibrations of the blow numbed Reika’s hand. Her knife fell and
skittered away from her on the stone floor.
Faaiza struck again. The blade's tip sliced through her gambeson and bit into Reika’s shoulder.
Pain, bright and clear, lanced through her. Blood welled from the cut. Caught without a weapon,
Reika ducked under Faaiza’s guard and lowered her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around her thin
body and drove her into the wall. She clasped Faaiza’s wrists. She struggled in her grasp, a match for
Reika’s strength. Mara? Where is Mara? Reika's distraction cost her as Faaiza wrenched her hand
free and punched her.
The sharp crack of bone-breaking and the pain in her chest told her Faaiza had broken her ribs.
Reika clenched her teeth against the pain of breathing. Faaiza smashed the hilt of the sword against
her cheek. Pinwheels of light flashed in her vision. Dizzy from the blow, she fought to hold on to
Faaiza. Blood and sweat stung her eyes.
Faaiza forced her back. Reika stumbled, strained to lift her arms. Pain like lighting fueled her will
to fight. She glanced around the room. They were alone. Mara had vanished. Fear washed over her.
“And where is your mate now? Abandoned you to die while she escaped. Now you see. Mara is
not to be trusted.” What passed for a smile twisted Faaiza’s face.
Reika swallowed on a dry throat. “Shut your ugly mouth.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Faaiza advanced on her. “I don’t think so.”
Reika shuffled backward. Her heel struck the wall. The smooth stones were firm against her back.
She braced herself with one hand as she blinked blood out of her eyes. Faaiza stepped forward and
thrust her blade into Reika’s gut.
Reika set her teeth on her lip, unwilling to give Faaiza the satisfaction of her screaming death.
Faaiza’s gleeful smile was her last vision before her world ended.
 8

M ara knelt next to Gwen and lay her hands on her shoulders. “How is it now?”
“Better.” Gwen pushed herself to sit. She cradled her arm in her lap. “Can you do
anything to speed the healing, my lady?”
“I can relieve your pain, but your body has to do the work of healing.”
Gwen huffed out a breath. “Not sure why I’m in a rush.” She shifted her eyes to the transparent
floor of their cell. “I’m sorry I could not protect you, Mara.”
“You did your best. Ebal is devious.”
Mara rose to her feet. The lake of fire surrounded them. Although it hovered above the boiling
lava, inside the sphere it was cool and the air clear. The sloped sides prevented her from pacing as
fear gnawed at her. They were safe for now, but it was clear from the sphere’s design it was
temporary. No food. No water. She shivered as she imagined what would occur if the sphere
dissolved. Gwen’s demise would be quick, the gasses killing her before the fire consumed her. But
Mara would suffer an eternity of burning agony, her spirit trapped in the pit.
She clasped her hands to her chest and rubbed the ache in her heart. What had become of Reika?
Would she come for Mara? She closed her eyes, envisioning Reika’s face, and held tight to her
promise never to abandon Mara. Hope flared, shoving despair aside. Reika would not rest until she
found Mara. The floor swayed beneath her feet. She opened her eyes. A flicker of movement caught
her eye. Above their heads, the cavern had opened.
“Lady?” Gwen rose to her feet and stood next to Mara.
Mara grabbed onto Gwen to steady herself as the sphere rose upward. Gooseflesh prickled
Mara’s arms. The light dimmed as the sphere passed through a long tunnel. Over their heads the circle
of light widened until the sphere passed into a room. The floor closed under them, and the sphere
came to rest. The walls dissolved around them. Gwen sagged to the floor. Mara swayed with the
sudden release of energy.

A BUZZ OF VOICES SURROUNDED REIKA. HER BODY TWITCHED AND TREMBLED . AGONY SHE HAD NEVER
known before raced through her body. She stifled her groans as her body knit itself back together. Her
vision sharpened. She was lying on a stone floor. Sticky blood wet her cheek. Boots she didn’t
recognize came into view. How was she not dead? Mara’s words came back to her. Death would not
take her unless Reika herself chose to die. Mara. What had happened to her love? Reika lay still and
focused on the chatter around her. A lower-pitched voice joined Faaiza’s sibilant tones. A man. Reika
took a shallow breath willing her body still as she listened.
“What are you complaining about? I gave you one simple assignment.”
“Simple? If capturing Mara was so simple, Ebal, why didn’t you do it yourself?” Faazia’s voice
faded into mumbled curses. Ebal. The sorcerer Martin had said cursed him.
“Stop whining, Faaiza.” Where had she heard the voice? She struggled to place it. Reika set her
teeth on her lip. They had been lured into a trap. She began a mental list of who would die first once
she had fully healed.
“You have the sword. You have Mara. Release Lilith now.” Faaiza’s shouts echoed off the roof of
the chamber.
“Little good it does me. I certainly can’t wield it. And you killed the only being whose life we
could bargain with.”
They had not moved her, and she lay in a puddle of sticky blood. How long had it taken for her to
heal? An hour? A day? Unwilling to reveal she lived, she focused her senses on the room. Three.
Only three. Where was Mara? Had she truly left Reika to fight alone?
Reika searched her memory. No. Someone or something had snatched her from the room. Reika
swore. Enough. Strength surged through her body, fueled by rage.
The sword of justice lay where Mara had placed it. Its flame a dull red. Were there penalties for
using a sacred sword? Reika would ask later.
Shouts and grumbling filled the room as the group argued. Counting on their distraction, she rose
slowly until she was crouching. She lifted her gaze.
Faaiza was the first to notice. Her eyes locked on Reika’s face. “No. It is not— She fell to her
knees. “Forgive me. I didn’t know.” She bowed her head. “Please don’t kill me. Not until Lilith is
free.” Faaiza scraped and shuffled away from Reika.
Reika rose to her feet and snatched the sword from the stone. The flame along its edge grew
brighter. She turned to face her. Faazia stepped back, shrinking away from Reika. She held her palms
open in surrender. Pity edged in and she lowered her sword. What would she do to rescue Mara from
a similar fate?
A handsome woman dressed in light armor unsheathed her sword on the far side of the room.
Horns graced her head, curled back along her skull, twin spirals, the symbol of Mara’s guardians,
graced her cheeks. She advanced toward Reika. “Let me end this pretender.”
Ebal tucked his hands inside the flowing sleeves of his robe. “And then what? You can’t wield the
sword any more than I can. Leave off, Hester.”
“You betray your oath to Mara and dare call me a pretender?” Reika raised her hand and gestured
for Hester to come forward. “Let us sort this, traitor.”
“You interest me, gorgeous warrior.” Ebal stepped in front of Hester blocking Reika’s way. He
was as beautiful as Aaron had been. His low-cut hair and beard were trimmed to a fine line. His dark
skin was lighter than Reika’s, and his eyes were a pale green. He was tall and lean, dressed in a red
robe covered in lilies embroidered in gold thread. “Who are you? You must be an amazing lover to
charm Mara into gifting you as she has. Perhaps we could come to an agreement? I can give you things
you’ve only dreamed of.”
Reika steeled herself against the charm wrapped in his voice.
“Reika Na’ Mhadaidh. One Mate of Mara Na’ Mahon. Wolf of Mhadaidh and the end of you.”
“I doubt that. Not when I have something you want.”
 Ebal pulled a small mirror from his robe. He waved his hand over the surface and then turned it
toward Reika. “Look.”
In the glass, Gwen and Mara were in a transparent sphere. Gwen’s face was bruised and bloody.
She lay on the curved surface of the sphere. Her arm bent at an unnatural angle.
Mara’s mouth was set in a firm line, her eyes dull, her expression one of resignation. The sphere
hovered above a lake of molten lava.
Reika swore and took a step nearer the sorcerer. “Name your terms. But know this. If you harm
either of them I will hunt you down and peel your skin from your flesh while you live.”
Ebal arched his brow and sighed. “Are you finished making nonsensical threats?”
Reika held his gaze and remained silent. His eyes flickered away from hers as he stepped aside.
Hester charged with her blade drawn.
Reika stepped to the side. Hester’s movement carried her past Reika. She shoved Hester’s
shoulder. She stumbled and flailed her arms struggling to regain her balance.
Reika brought the sword down. The blade glowed yellow as it sliced through Hester’s skin. Her
sword and the lower half of her arm fell to the floor. Reika took one step forward and thrust the blade
through her armor. Hester’s screams echoed off the ceiling before fading out as her blood gushed over
the stones. The sword glowed white-hot. Smoke rose from Hester’s body. The stench of burning meat
permeated the air. Reika used her foot to free her blade from Hester’s limp form. Flame spread out
from the gash in her belly and consumed Hester’s form leaving behind fine ash.
Faazia whimpered behind her. Reika turned toward Ebal. “Did you really think that would
work?”
“No. I wanted to see if the legend was true.”
“Legend?” Reika lowered the sword.
“Only the just may wield the sword. Those pure of heart. And those dead to the world. Only
immortals can wield it. Mara. Lilith. You. I hope you will be more compliant than they were.”
“And why should I be?” Reika looked down the length of the blade and lined it up with his gut.
“Because if you kill me, they die. The sphere will dissolve, and they will plunge into the fire.”
Ebal tucked the mirror back inside his robes.
“Empty threats. Mara is immortal. Gwen would choose death over dishonor.”
“Gwen does not concern me. Mara’s immortal spirit would be trapped in the mountain, forever be
a prisoner of the burning lake.”
Reika lowered the sword. She rested the blade's tip on the floor and turned to peer into Faazia’s
face. “Faazia, is what he says true?”
“Yes.” Faazia tilted her head to the side. “It would be worse than what he has done to my Lilith.”
“What do you want, Ebal?” Reika lifted her shoulders and straightened them before she met his
dark gaze.
“I need you to dispatch my brother, Ebronah.”
“What?” Reika lifted her chin. “Too afraid to do it yourself?”
“No. But it would create, shall we say, complications for me.”
“What is his crime?”
“He thinks small. He would be content with the Sons of Aaron controlling only Mahon for
eternity. He is weak, a degenerate. He steals beings from other time streams for his amusement. He
has some bizarre idea of uniting the empires and making peace with everyone.” Ebal’s brows drew
down. “There will never be peace until we rule over all people and lands.”
Reika sighed. “Why does this not surprise me? Do you know how many times I’ve heard the
same? I made a good living fighting for peace. Waste of time and lives.” Reika lifted the blade and
studied its glowing edge. “I’ll do what you want, Ebal. But I have three conditions.”
Ebal shrugged his shoulders. “Why would I grant you anything?”
“I’m only immortal as long as I choose to be.” She pulled her knife from her belt and pressed the
tip against her throat. “Without me, the blade is worthless to you. Without me, you have nothing to
prevent Mara from incinerating you on sight. I’ll do what you want, but you must release Mara and
Gwen from their prison and free Lilith from her living tomb. After I have slain Ebronah, you will
return me to this time.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” Ebal rubbed his fingers over his chin.
“You don’t. But if I were not true to my words would I be able to wield the sword?”
Ebal pursed his lips. Reika held his gaze. She pressed the tip of the knife to her neck. The sting
and burn of the blade sharpened her resolve as blood, warm and wet, trickled over her fingers.
“Fine. Fine. I agree to your conditions. Stop being so dramatic. Stand clear.” Ebal rubbed his
hands together.
Reika backed away until her back was against the wall and lowered her knife. She tucked it back
into its sheath before leaning the sword against the wall beside her.
In the center of the chamber, the floor tiles shattered. A rift opened and spread wide. The stench of
burning flesh and steam filled the room. Reika covered her nose with her palm. Through the cloud, the
outline of a sphere appeared. In the space of three breaths, the room cleared and the floor closed.
Mara and Gwen stood in the circle where the sphere had been. Mara swayed on her feet. Gwen
crumpled to the floor. Reika crossed the room in two strides and wrapped Mara in her arms.
Hands wrapped in Reika’s shirt, Mara clung to her. Reika pressed her face against her cheek.

REIKA’ S STRONG ARMS WRAPPED AROUND MARA, PULLED HER CLOSE, AND LIFTED HER OFF HER FEET .
Mara blinked, focused on Reika’s eyes as the dizziness faded. “My love.”
Reika kissed her. “I thought I had lost you.
Mara smoothed her hands over Reika’s shoulders. Her clothes were sticky and stiff with blood.
So much blood. Mara shifted in Reika’s arms. She ran her hands over her body. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Thanks to your gift.” Reika leaned her brow against Mara’s forehead.
“As much as I hate to interrupt this tender reunion, you made a promising warrior. And we need to
leave.”
They turned as one to face Ebal. Mara lifted her chin. “Where do you think we are going?”
“Sorry, I misspoke. Reika and I are leaving.”
“No.” Mara lifted her hands and created a tight ball of blue energy. “Reika is going nowhere with
you.”
“No? I’d check with her before doing anything rash.” He strolled over to the transparent cell
holding Lilith’s form. “Pity to lose your sister after all this time.”
Mara extinguished the flames between her hands and turned to Reika. “What have you done,
love?”
“I promised to slay Ebronah in return for your release from the pit and Lilith’s freedom.”
Mara grabbed onto Reika’s calloused hand, grounding herself with the warrior’s calm energy.
“We would have found a way to free ourselves.”
 Reika lifted Mara’s hand to her mouth. She brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “I could not bear to
think of you trapped in the burning pit. I would slay a thousand sorcerers to know you were spared
one moment of pain.”
“I will not be separated from her.” Mara turned to Ebal
“Oh, but you will. Or watch your sister die.”
“You swore. You swore you would not if I delivered them” Faazia’s shout shook the walls.
 9

F aazia stepped close to Ebal. “If she dies, you die sorcerer.”
“You would sacrifice your city and your younglings for your wife?” Ebal lifted his eyebrow
and pursed his lips.
“Faazia. Leave him alone. Now.” Mara crossed the room and stopped an arms breadth from the
pair.
“Shut up, Mara.” Faazia’s lips pulled back from her fangs. “If you had married Aaron none of this
would have happened.”
Mara’s eyes were twin flames. “I will forgive you that remark, but I will never forget it. Traitor.
You were never worthy of my sister.”
Reika used their distraction to retrieve the sword. “Enough!” Her shout echoed off the roof of the
chamber.
Ebal turned to her. “I quite agree.” From inside his robe, he drew a silver ring. He tossed it to the
floor. The ring expanded. Inside its shining coil an inky pool appeared. “Come, warrior. Fulfill your
promise.” He lifted his hand palm out and closed it. A squeezing sensation encircled Reika. A sliver
chain appeared and tightened around her waist. Ebal jumped into the pool. The taut chain yanked her
toward the pool. She planted her feet and leaned away from the opening. Her boots skidded on the
smooth stones, and she slid into the blackness.
“Reika!” Mara caught her hand. “No!”
Pain lanced through her shoulder and body as the circle closed around her. “Let go, my love.”
“Never.” Mara tightened her grip.
“You must. I made a bargain.” The sound of shattering glass echoed in the chamber. “See to your
sister. Trust I’ll return to you.” The pool grew smaller, threatening to cleave her in two. Reika
squeezed Mara’s hand once. “Until the rivers of time run dry.” She shook off Mara’s grip. She closed
her eyes and surrendered to the chain's pull as the darkness closed over her head.

MARA SCREAMED . S HE ROSE TO HER FULL HEIGHT . HER TIGHT CURLS BRUSHED THE CEILING OF THE
cavern. Rage tinted her vision. She spun toward the shattered tomb. Faazia knelt by Lilith’s still form.
“Get away from her.” Mara crossed the room in two steps.
Faazia turned to her. “You are not in charge here.” She stood and stepped away from Lilith’s side.
 “Beast. You gave us up to Ebal. You will pay.” Mara extended her hand. She rolled her wrist, her
bracelet morphed and shifted until her golden gauntlet shone against her black skin. She held her hand
out and her blade appeared.
Faazia snarled. She lifted her arms. Her face elongated, her body morphing until she stood before
Mara in her dragon form.
“Stop. My lady. Faazia.” Gwen shouted. “We must work together or Mahon is lost.”
Mara swung her blade at Faazia. Faazia dipped and swayed, avoiding the edge. She huffed out a
blast of fire. Mara caught the flame in her hand and tossed it back toward Faazia. Her sharp screech
echoed off the rocks. Unable to use her wings, Faazia lunged at Mara, snapping and snarling.
Mara swung her fist. She connected with the slick scales of her face. Faazia whipped her tail,
catching Mara’s leg. She fell. Faazia pounced on top of Mara. She placed her paws on Mara’s
shoulders. “Immortal or not, you can still feel pain.” She breathed out. Fire flared from her mouth.
The smell of burnt hair stung Mara’s nose.
Mara bucked her hips and rolled them until Faazia was beneath her. She hammered her fist against
her chin. Faazia’s head snapped to the left, and she lay still. Her body shrank and morphed into her
human form. Mara rose to her feet. She stood over her and lined the edge of her blade up with the gap
in the scales of Faazia’s neck.
She lifted the blade with both hands and set her feet. A blast of energy rolled her clear of the
beast. She scrambled to her feet. Sweat stung her eyes. She swept her gaze over the room for the
source of the magic.
Lilith stood with her hands out to her sides. A ball of fire in each palm. “Sister, why are you
trying to murder my mate?”
Mara closed her eyes, willed herself calm, and resumed her human form. “I was not.”
Lilith lifted her eyebrow. “You never were a good liar.”
Faazia groaned, drawing Mara’s attention. She bent from the waist and placed her hand on
Faazia’s forehead. Her palm buzzed as she sent healing energy to Faazia. With a jerk, Faazia awoke,
her face contorted in fear. “Get up.” Mara stepped back and away from Faazia
Lilith clapped her hands together and extinguished the flames between her palms. “Faazia?”
Faazia rolled to her knees. She crawled to Lilith’s side. “My heart. Forgive me.”
Lilith rested her palm on Faazia’s head. “The fault is all mine. And you were trying to protect our
family.”
Mara rested her hands on her hips. “You have a child?”
“Two. Twins.”
Mara blinked. “Where are they? I’ve never seen them in the glass.”
“You won’t. Their nursery is lined in crystal and deep under Adir’s citadel. You would have to
destroy the entire mountain to find them.” Lilith reached down and lifted Faazia to her feet. They
clung to each other, and Mara turned away from the tender scene. Her heart ached. Where had Ebal
taken Reika? He had surrendered Lilith, but would he keep his word and return Reika? Would Reika
survive the battle with Ebronah? She rubbed her forehead as a million thoughts fought for room in her
mind.
“My lady?” Gwen rested her hand on Mara’s arm. “What now?”
 10

“W etears
need to go back to the springs. I’ll need my mirror. And Debra.” Mara blinked back her
as she crossed to the chamber door.
“Mara, wait. Let me help.” Lilith called from the far side of the room.
“Why? So your mate can sabotage our mission? No, thank you. I will return your sword when I
have retrieved Reika.”
Lilith crossed the room. “This is my fault. I agreed to Ebal’s terms to save her and my younglings.
They are long-lived but not immortal. Anything Faazia has done can be traced to my weakness.
Please. Sister, let me help you. I know what it is to be separated from your mate.”
Mara turned to Lilith. In her dark skin, broad cheeks and golden eyes, she saw the mirror of
herself. Lilith rested her hand on Mara’s forearm and squeezed gently. Her touch melted Mara’s anger.
She hauled her into her arms. Her embrace smoothed the edges of her despair. She was not alone.

MARA LIFTED HER HAND AND SENT ANOTHER PULSE OF MAGIC TOWARD THE CARVED STONE DOOR
leading to the tunnel. “Gwen, try the pattern again.”
Gwen pressed the stone switches to open the door to no avail.
Mara turned from the door and tapped her finger to her lips. “Lying son of a dog. He kept his
word. And yet didn’t.” Mara studied the chamber Ebal had sealed them in.
“Are we truly trapped, lady?” Gwen’s brows drew down. “Why will your magic not work here?”
“Because it’s not magic.” Faazia strode to the door. “He destroyed the mechanism that rolls the
door free and wedged it in place. He uses the traveling rings to go where and when he pleases.
“So we need someone to open it from the outside?” Mara strode to the door.
“No. It is impossible to move from the outside once the mechanism is set. I designed it so. And it
will take more than the four of us to move it. Even with our strength. It took ten of my people to set it
when we built the hold.”
“Can we break it down? Or blast it clear?” Gwen hefted her ax.
“No. You will bring the entire mountain down on our heads. I built it so that if we were ever
overrun, I could pull my people into the inner ring of the keep and destroy every access to the castle.
All of the doors are constructed so that if you destroy one, you destroy all.” Lilith pursed her lips.
“Then we need to raise a force to free us.” Mara held Lilith’s gaze. “Help me?”
Another random document with
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décida que la durée du carême était de quarante et non de
cinquante jours[241]. Il rendit obligatoire la fête des Rogations,
récemment instituée à Vienne en Dauphiné par saint Mamert, et qui
de là s'était répandue rapidement dans le reste de l'Église. Il voulut
que les trois jours qu'elle durait fussent des jours de jeûne et
d'abstinence; il décida que les esclaves des deux sexes seraient
dispensés de tout travail afin de pouvoir assister aux processions, et
il donna pouvoir à l'évêque de punir le prêtre qui refuserait d'y
participer[242]. Ainsi continuait au sein de l'Église la floraison
liturgique; chaque génération en s'écoulant ajoutait un joyau au
diadème de ses fêtes, et le cercle enchanté de ses prières se nouait
en guirlandes parfumées autour de toute l'année chrétienne.
[240] Canon, 26, Sirmond, I, p. 182; Maassen, p. 8.
[241] Canon, 24, Sirmond, I, p. 182; Maassen, p. 8.
[242] Canon, 27, Sirmond, I, p. 182; Maassen, p. 8.
La discipline ecclésiastique était peut-être, de tous les sujets, celui
que l'Église soignait avec le plus de sollicitude; aussi ne s'étonnera-
t-on pas d'y voir consacrer un grand nombre de canons. Il faut parler
d'abord des attributions réservées aux évêques en leur qualité de
chefs de diocèse. Le diocèse était dans l'Église primitive, et avant le
mouvement de concentration qui s'est fait autour de la chaire
romaine, l'organisme par excellence de la vie religieuse, et l'évêque
était le centre et la source de toute autorité et de toute discipline. Le
lien qui rattachait les fidèles à leur évêque était le lien le plus fort qui
les rattachât à l'Église elle-même: il fallait veiller, s'il y avait lieu de
l'élargir, à ce qu'il ne pût jamais être défait ou rompu. Voilà pourquoi
l'on faisait aux fidèles dispersés dans les paroisses rurales
l'obligation d'affirmer par intervalles l'unité diocésaine, en venant
assister aux offices de la cathédrale aux fêtes de Noël, de Pâques et
de Pentecôte. Le concile d'Orléans renouvela cette prescription[243].
Il rappela aussi aux fidèles que toutes les églises qui se
construisaient dans le diocèse, que ce fût dans le domaine d'un
particulier ou ailleurs, restaient sous la juridiction de l'évêque[244]:
mesure d'une importance capitale, qui sauvegardait l'unité
religieuse, et constituait la barrière la plus solide que la féodalité
envahissante ait rencontrée sur son chemin. Le concile consacra
l'autorité de l'évêque sur toutes les personnes comme sur tous les
biens de son église; il lui en subordonna les religieux comme les
laïques; il ne permit ni à ses prêtres ni à ses moines d'aller trouver le
roi pour lui demander un bénéfice sans la permission de l'évêque
diocésain; celui qui contreviendrait à cette défense devait être privé
de son rang et de la communion jusqu'à ce qu'il eût satisfait[245].
Mais en même temps qu'il veillait à conserver intacte l'autorité
épiscopale, le concile voulut que l'évêque se souvînt aussi de ses
devoirs: il exigea que tous les dimanches, sauf empêchement, il
assistât aux offices de l'église la plus voisine[246]; il ne lui permit pas
de manier l'arme de l'excommunication contre un laïque qui
revendiquerait les biens d'une église ou d'un évêque[247]. Il est
intéressant de constater ces restrictions que les évêques eux-
mêmes apportent à leur pouvoir: rien ne montre mieux l'action
modératrice des conciles.
[243] Canon 25, Sirmond, I, p. 182; Maassen, p. 8.
[244] Canon 17, Sirmond, p. 181; Maassen, p. 6.
[245] Canon 7, Sirmond, p. 179; Maassen, p. 4.
[246] Canon 31, Sirmond, p. 183; Maassen, p. 9.
[247] Canon 6, Sirmond, p. 179; Maassen, p. 4.
Plusieurs autres dispositions des conciles antérieurs furent
renouvelées en ce qui concernait la vie du clergé. Telle fut en
premier lieu celle qui défendait aux clercs de tout rang, tant aux
évêques qu'aux prêtres et aux diacres, d'avoir dans leur maison
d'autres femmes que leurs parentes les plus proches[248]. Il fut
interdit aux veuves de clercs de se remarier; celles qui avaient
contracté mariage furent contraintes de rompre leur union, sous
peine d'excommunication tant pour elles que pour leurs
complices[249]. Enfin il fut décidé que le prêtre ou diacre coupable
d'un crime capital serait privé de son office et exclu de la communion
des fidèles[250].
[248] Canon 29, Sirmond, p. 183; Maassen, p. 8.
[249] Canon 13, Sirmond, p. 180; Maassen, p. 6.
[250] Canon 9, Sirmond, p. 180; Maassen, p. 5.
Tout cet ensemble de mesures était relatif au clergé séculier; il faut y
ajouter celles qui concernaient le clergé régulier. Quatre importants
canons furent consacrés à la vie monastique, et il faut remarquer
qu'ils ont pour caractère général le renforcement de l'autorité
épiscopale sur le clergé régulier. Les abbés des monastères, se
souvenant, dit le concile, de l'humilité dont leur profession leur faisait
un devoir, eurent à reconnaître l'autorité de l'évêque, et celui-ci
garda sur eux un droit de correction. Tous les ans ils devaient se
réunir à l'endroit où il leur avait donné rendez-vous. Eux-mêmes, de
leur côté, voyaient confirmer leur autorité sur leurs moines. Le
religieux qui, contrevenant à sa règle, possédait quelque chose en
propre, devait en être dépouillé par l'abbé; celui qui s'évadait de son
monastère devait y être ramené et mis sous bonne garde, avec
l'aide de l'évêque. L'abbé lui-même était déclaré coupable s'il n'usait
pas de son droit de correction, ou s'il accueillait un moine fugitif[251].
Il fut défendu aux moines de quitter leur monastère pour se bâtir des
cellules à part, à moins qu'ils n'eussent l'aveu de leur évêque et de
leur abbé; les Pères du concile voyaient dans cette tendance à
s'isoler une preuve de vanité et d'outrecuidance[252]. Ils fermèrent
l'accès de tout grade dans l'ordre ecclésiastique à quiconque, après
avoir professé la vie religieuse en prenant le manteau de moine,
l'avait ensuite quittée pour contracter les liens du mariage[253]. Enfin,
descendant jusque dans le détail, ils réglèrent de menues questions
de costume monastique[254].
[251] Canon 19, Sirmond, p. 181; Maassen, p. 7.
[252] Canon 22, Sirmond, p. 182; Maassen, p. 7.
[253] Canon 21, Sirmond, p. 182; Maassen, p. 7.
[254] Canon 20, Sirmond, p. 182; Maassen, p. 7.

Les simples fidèles s'entendirent rappeler une des défenses les plus
impérieuses de cette époque: celle du mariage entre beaux-frères et
belles-sœurs, et il faut remarquer que par belle-sœur on devait
entendre, au sens du concile, aussi bien la femme du frère que la
sœur de la femme[255]. Deux canons, le onzième et le douzième,
furent consacrés aux pénitents, classe de fidèles toujours
nombreuse, et qui comprenait plusieurs catégories. Il y avait ceux
que l'Église avait condamnés à la pénitence pour expier leurs fautes;
il y avait aussi ceux qui se l'étaient imposée spontanément et par
ferveur de contrition. Ceux-ci étaient tenus de respecter leur vœu et
ne pouvaient retourner à la vie du siècle, sinon ils étaient exclus de
la communion, et nul fidèle ne pouvait les admettre à sa table sans
s'exposer à partager leur sort. Toutefois, si un prêtre ou un diacre
avaient, par pénitence, abandonné le service de l'autel, il leur fut
permis, par égard pour le salut des âmes, d'administrer le sacrement
de baptême en cas de nécessité[256].
[255] Canon 18, Sirmond, p. 181; Maassen, p. 6.
[256] Canon 12, Sirmond, p. 180; Maassen, p. 5.
Dans les mesures qu'il prit par rapport aux biens ecclésiastiques, le
concile, comme dans tout l'ensemble de ses dispositions, ne fit
qu'étendre, confirmer ou interpréter des canons antérieurs. Tous les
biens immeubles de l'église, ainsi que les esclaves et le bétail,
devaient être à la disposition de l'évêque, qui en faisait l'usage
prescrit par les canons. Si, dans une vue d'humanité, il abandonnait
pour un temps déterminé à des prêtres ou à des moines
l'exploitation de champs ou de vignes, aucune prescription ne
pouvait jamais éteindre son droit de propriété, et les dispositions de
la loi civile ne pouvaient pas être invoquées contre lui[257]. Quant
aux offrandes en nature que les fidèles faisaient sur l'autel, si c'était
dans la cathédrale, elles devaient se partager par moitié entre
l'évêque et le clergé de cette église[258]. Dans les églises rurales,
l'évêque avait droit à un tiers seulement, les deux autres tiers
appartenaient au clergé local[259]. Une question toute neuve, c'était
celle de la répartition des biens que l'Église devait à la libéralité de
Clovis, ou qu'elle en attendait encore. Fallait-il les soumettre aux
règles ordinaires, ou l'évêque pouvait-il en disposer à son gré? Le
concile répondit en rappelant les principes canoniques sur l'emploi
des revenus de l'Église: un tiers revenait au clergé pour sa
subsistance, un tiers aux pauvres et au rachat des captifs, un dernier
tiers à l'entretien des églises et du culte. Cette clause semblait dure
à certains prélats, qui, paraît-il, auraient voulu regarder les libéralités
royales comme des faveurs personnelles. Mais le concile s'éleva
avec force contre cette prétention; il menaça l'évêque récalcitrant
d'une réprimande publique de la part de ses comprovinciaux; s'il ne
se soumettait, il devait être exclu de la communion de ses frères
dans l'épiscopat[260]. Loin de pactiser ainsi avec l'égoïsme et
l'avidité de ses propres membres, l'épiscopat franc leur rappela dans
un canon spécial toute l'étendue de leur devoir de charité: L'évêque,
dit le seizième canon, doit, dans la mesure du possible, fournir les
aliments et les vêtements aux pauvres et aux infirmes que leur santé
empêche de travailler de leurs mains[261]. On sait quelle riche
variété d'œuvres charitables couvre l'ampleur magnifique de cette
formule, qui mettait dans la clientèle de l'Église toutes les misères et
toutes les souffrances d'ici-bas.
[257] Canon 23, Sirmond, p. 182; Maassen, p. 7.
[258] Canon 14, Sirmond, p. 180; Maassen, p. 6.
[259] Canon 15, Sirmond, p. 181; Maassen, p. 6.
[260] Canon 5, Sirmond, p. 179; Maassen, p. 4.
[261] Sirmond, p. 181; Maassen, p. 6.
Avant de se séparer, les évêques, Cyprien de Bordeaux et les autres
métropolitains en tête, signèrent les actes et en adressèrent une
copie au roi, avec une lettre ainsi conçue:
«A leur seigneur, fils de la sainte Église catholique, le très glorieux
roi Clovis, tous les évêques à qui vous avez ordonné de venir au
concile. Puisque un si grand souci de notre glorieuse foi vous excite
au service de la religion, que dans le zèle d'une âme vraiment
sacerdotale vous avez réuni les évêques pour délibérer en commun
sur les besoins de l'Église, nous, en conformité de cette volonté et
en suivant le questionnaire que vous nous avez donné, nous avons
répondu par les sentences qui nous ont paru justes. Si ce que nous
avons décidé est approuvé par vous, le consentement d'un si grand
roi augmentera l'autorité des résolutions prises en commun par une
si nombreuse assemblée de prélats[262].»
[262] Sirmond, p. 177; Maassen, p. 2.
Cette lettre était un acte de déférence de l'épiscopat envers la
majesté royale, ou, pour employer l'expression du concile lui-même,
c'était sa réponse au questionnaire de Clovis. On se tromperait si,
de la formule respectueuse de la fin, on tirait la conclusion que les
canons d'Orléans avaient besoin de la confirmation royale. L'Église,
chez les Francs mérovingiens, légiférait avec une souveraineté
absolue dans son domaine; ses canons étaient obligatoires en
conscience pour tous les fidèles, y compris le roi lui-même, et nul
n'aurait pu, sans se charger d'un péché grave, y contrevenir en
quelque matière que ce fût. Elle n'avait donc pas à demander à
Clovis une confirmation dont elle pouvait se passer; ce qu'elle
désirait, c'est qu'en se montrant disposé à y obéir lui-même, il
augmentât le prestige et l'autorité des résolutions conciliaires. D'en
faire passer la substance dans le droit civil, cela ne vint à l'esprit de
personne: c'est plus tard seulement, et dans une mesure d'abord
très restreinte, que les dispositions du droit ecclésiastique
commencèrent à y pénétrer. En attendant, les résolutions du concile
d'Orléans avaient force de loi pour l'Église franque, même celles qui
auraient été en contradiction avec le code[263].
[263] Voir Lœning, Geschichte des deutschen Kirchenrechts, t. II, pp. 150 et suiv.
Nous ne quitterons pas la mémorable assemblée de 511 sans faire
un rapprochement qui se sera sans doute présenté à l'esprit du
lecteur. C'est une œuvre législative qui a ouvert les annales des
Francs, et c'est une œuvre législative qui ferme le règne de Clovis.
Mais depuis les séances des quatre prud'hommes qui délibèrent
sous les chênes de Salaheim jusqu'à celles des trente-deux pontifes
qui siègent sous les voûtes du sanctuaire d'Orléans, quel chemin
parcouru! La loi salique est le code d'un petit peuple païen; les
canons de 511 sont la charte d'une grande nation chrétienne. Là, on
arrêtait le bilan de la barbarie; ici, on continue l'œuvre de la
civilisation. Là, un certain nombre de dispositions purement pénales
résument l'activité négative du passé; ici, les prescriptions positives
d'une loi morale supérieure font pénétrer dans le droit public les
influences fécondantes de l'avenir. L'histoire de la fondation de la
monarchie franque est comprise entre ces deux dates, et toute la
philosophie de cette histoire tient dans ce simple rapprochement.
VII
 CLOVIS ET L'ÉGLISE
Il serait d'un haut intérêt, après avoir envisagé les sommets de
l'histoire de Clovis, de jeter un coup d'œil dans ses replis, et de
l'étudier dans la menue activité de la vie quotidienne. Combien elle
s'éclairerait pour nous, si nous pouvions joindre, à l'histoire de ses
exploits militaires, au moins quelques aperçus de son administration
et de son gouvernement! La pénurie de nos documents nous réduit
à ne presque rien connaître de ces sujets, qui prennent une place
capitale dans l'histoire de tant de souverains. C'est là ce qui rend la
vie de Clovis si difficile à écrire: elle finit chaque fois au retour d'une
campagne, c'est-à-dire là où les exigences de l'esprit moderne
voudraient la voir commencer.
Nous essayerons du moins, dans les pages qui vont suivre, de
grouper tous les renseignements qu'il a été possible de recueillir. Ce
sera la faute des matériaux et non celle de l'auteur, si le tableau
produit l'effet d'une mosaïque formée d'une multitude de fragments
rapportés.
De l'administration civile de Clovis, nous ne savons absolument rien.
Deux anecdotes, d'ailleurs fort légendaires, nous le montrent
conférant le duché de Melun à un de ses fidèles nommé
Aurélien[264], et le comté de Reims à un autre du nom d'Arnoul[265].
On n'a d'ailleurs pas besoin de ces indications pour admettre que
l'institution des ducs et des comtes de l'époque mérovingienne est
aussi ancienne que la dynastie elle-même.
[264] Eo tempore dilatavit Chlodovechus amplificans regnum suum usque
Sequanam. Sequenti tempore usque Ligere fluvio occupavit, accepitque Aurilianus
castrum Malidunensem omnemque ducatum regionis illius. Liber historiæ, c. 14.
Je ne garantis pas tout ce passage, que la présence du fabuleux Aurélien rend
justement suspect; mais j'admets, contre Junghans, p. 30, et Krusch, note de son
édition du Liber historiæ, p. 260, que l'auteur aura eu souvenance d'un comte de
Melun nommé Aurélien, et qu'il l'aura identifié avec le personnage de la légende.
Cet Aurélien historique était-il un contemporain de Clovis? On n'en peut rien
savoir.
[265] Ex Vita sancti Arnulfi martyris (dom Bouquet, III, p. 383).

Législateur, Clovis occupe dans les traditions de son peuple une

place qui n'est pas indigne du fondateur de l'État. La loi salique
n'existait jusqu'à lui que dans le texte germanique, arrêté par les
quatre prud'hommes de la vieille patrie. Selon le prologue de ce
célèbre document[266], il en fit faire, après son baptême, une
recension nouvelle, qu'il aura dépouillée de tout caractère païen.
Cette rédaction écrite en latin, sans doute à l'usage des habitants de
la Gaule romaine, a fait entièrement oublier l'ancienne version
germanique, et est seule arrivée jusqu'à nous, avec son escorte de
textes dérivés ou remaniés au cours des âges. Chose curieuse, pour
la Lex salica de Clovis, la terre franque, c'est le pays situé entre la
Loire et la forêt Charbonnière, c'est-à-dire la Gaule chrétienne et
civilisée qui était sa récente conquête. La France primitive, le pays
des vrais Francs germaniques, la terre de Clodion, de Mérovée et de
Childéric, ne compte plus, et l'on dirait quelle n'existe pas. Faut-il
donc croire que le roi des Francs soit devenu à tel point un étranger
pour sa propre race, qu'il n'ait plus même pris la peine de légiférer
pour elle? Non certes, et s'il n'est fait aucune mention de la mère
patrie dans le texte latin de la loi, c'est apparemment qu'elle restait
en possession de l'ancien texte germanique arrêté par les quatre
prud'hommes.
[266] V. la note suivante.

Le code élaboré par Clovis marque une nouvelle étape dans la voie
du progrès social chez les Francs. Il n'est pas la reproduction pure et
simple du texte germanique; il ne se contente pas non plus d'en
biffer les dispositions qui sentent trop l'idolâtrie, il le tient au courant,
si je puis ainsi parler, du développement total de la nation, devenue
un peuple civilisé depuis son introduction dans la Gaule romaine et
son baptême. «Ce qui était obscur dans le pacte, Clovis l'éclaira; ce
qui y manquait, il y pourvut[267].» Cette formule sommaire mais
expressive de la Loi salique nous laisse deviner une activité
législative qui a dû être considérable, mais que nous devons nous
résigner à ne connaître jamais.
[267] At ubi Deo favente rex Francorum Chlodeveus torrens et pulcher et primus
recepit catholicam baptismi, et quod minus in pactum habebatur idoneo per
proconsolis regis Chlodovechi et Hildeberti et Chlotarii fuit lucidius emendatum.
Prologue de la Loi salique. Pardessus, Loi salique, p. 345; Hessels et Kern, Lex
salica, p. 422.
Elle indique aussi ce que les monuments contemporains nous
montrent, à savoir, un prodigieux accroissement de la puissance
royale chez les Francs. Est-ce l'influence naturelle de ses conquêtes
et de ses victoires, est-ce la proximité de l'influence romaine, est-ce
le caractère sacré donné au pouvoir royal par la doctrine chrétienne,
ou bien plutôt ne sont-ce pas toutes ces raisons à la fois qui ont
placé le roi si haut au-dessus de son peuple? Il n'est plus le prince
tel que l'a connu la vieille Germanie; il est un maître dont le pouvoir
n'a pas de limites dans le droit, il est armé du ban, qui est la sanction
redoutable donnée par des pénalités spéciales à chacune de ses
volontés, il remanie et complète la législation avec une autorité
souveraine, et son præceptum suffit pour lui garantir l'obéissance.
Voilà la place conquise par le roi dans la vie du peuple franc. Celle
qu'il prend dans l'Église a un caractère spécial; il y exerce une
influence qui n'est égalée par nulle autre. Sans doute il n'est pas,
comme l'empereur, placé au-dessus d'elle pour la dominer, ni,
comme les rois ariens, en dehors d'elle pour la combattre. Il en fait
partie à la fois comme simple fidèle et comme souverain; fidèle, il
obéit à ses lois, il croit à sa doctrine; roi, et roi catholique, il écoute
les conseils de ses prélats, il la protège selon ses forces, il a sur sa
vie une action et une autorité qu'elle ne lui dispute pas.
Nous l'avons vu investi du droit de convoquer les conciles; mais ce
n'est pas tout. La première de ces assemblées qui se soit tenue
depuis sa conversion a subordonné à la volonté royale l'entrée des
hommes libres dans le clergé. En matière d'élections épiscopales,
sans jouir d'aucun droit canonique d'intervention, il dispose en fait
d'une influence considérable. Sans violer ni contester le libre
recrutement du sacerdoce, il y intervient avec une autorité à laquelle
tout le monde défère. Quand le roi catholique a dit quel homme il
veut voir mettre sur un siège épiscopal, il ne se trouve personne
pour être d'un autre avis, et de fait ce sera lui qui nommera l'évêque.
Le roi n'est-il pas lui-même membre de l'Église, et, si l'on peut ainsi
parler, son pouvoir électoral ne doit-il pas être en proportion des
intérêts qu'il représente? Nous le voyons, lors de la vacance des
sièges épiscopaux de Verdun et d'Auxerre, jeter les yeux sur des
hommes qu'il respecte, et leur offrir ces hautes charges, et c'est leur
refus seul qui empêche que sa volonté se fasse, mais en combien
d'autres occurrences elle aura eu force de loi! Ce qui semble pouvoir
être affirmé, c'est que, dans aucun cas, un siège épiscopal n'aurait
pu être donné contrairement à sa volonté. Au dire du biographe de
saint Sacerdos, ce prélat fut élevé au siège épiscopal de Limoges
par l'élection du clergé, aux acclamations du peuple, avec le
consentement du roi Clovis[268]. Voilà bien, désormais, les trois
éléments distincts qui constituent l'élection d'un évêque.
[268] Ex vita sancti Sacerdotis (dom Bouquet, III). Cette formule semble
empruntée au canon 10 du Ve concile d'Orléans en 549: cum voluntate regis, juxta
electionem cleri aut plebis (Maassen, Concilia p. 103). Mais il est manifeste que le
concile d'Orléans ne put que consacrer un état de choses antérieur, et il est
impossible de supposer que cet état de choses ne remonte pas au règne de
Clovis.
Un épisode bien authentique va nous montrer de fort près cette
situation de la royauté en face de l'Église, et la nature de l'influence
qui lui est reconnue. Sur la recommandation de Clovis, saint Remi
de Reims avait conféré les ordres sacrés à un certain Claudius. Cet
individu était probablement déjà suspect; après la mort du roi, il
donna un grand scandale. On voit qu'entre autres il avait
frauduleusement dépouillé de ses biens un nommé Celsus, et saint
Remi convient lui-même qu'il était coupable de sacrilège.
Néanmoins il intervint en sa faveur et demanda qu'il fût admis à la
pénitence, alors qu'aux termes du concile d'Orléans il devait être
excommunié. Cette indulgence lui valut d'amers reproches de la part
de trois évêques, Léon de Sens, Héraclius de Paris et Théodore
d'Auxerre. Autant qu'il est possible d'entrevoir leur attitude, ils
rendirent l'évêque de Reims responsable des fautes de son protégé;
ils lui firent notamment un devoir de rechercher et d'indemniser lui-
même les créanciers de Claudius; enfin, ils lui rappelèrent que si ce
malheureux avait pu jeter le discrédit sur sa robe, on le devait à la
pusillanimité de Remi, qui l'avait ordonné à la prière du roi et
contrairement aux canons. Dans sa réponse, qui nous a été
conservée, le saint se défend assez mollement sur la question du
fond; il convient d'ailleurs d'avoir déféré au désir de Clovis et
continue sur un ton énergique:
«Oui, j'ai donné la prêtrise à Claudius, non à prix d'or, mais sur le
témoignage du très excellent roi, qui était non seulement le
prédicateur, mais encore le défenseur de la foi. Vous m'écrivez que
sa demande n'était pas conforme aux canons. C'est le maître du
pays, c'est le gardien de la patrie, c'est le triomphateur des nations
qui me l'avait enjoint[269].»
[269] M. G. H., Epistolæ merovingici et karolini ævi, p. 114.
On ne prendra pas au pied de la lettre cette dernière expression,
inspirée au saint vieillard par le sentiment d'une détresse morale qu'il
ne parvient à cacher que d'une manière imparfaite à ses
contradicteurs. L'âpreté même de leurs reproches et la faiblesse de
ses excuses nous permettent de nous rendre un compte exact de la
situation qui est l'objet de cette correspondance. Clovis avait obtenu
de saint Remi un acte contraire à la législation canonique. On peut
mettre une bonne partie de la condescendance de l'évêque de
Reims sur le compte de ses relations spéciales avec Clovis. Le
pontife avait pour son royal filleul la tendresse d'un père, avec le
respect presque religieux qui lui faisait voir en Clovis l'instrument
manifeste de la Providence. C'était sa conquête à lui, c'était sa
gloire, c'était le fruit de ses sueurs. Toute sa pensée gravitait autour
de l'homme providentiel: qu'aurait-il refusé à son fils, à son
néophyte, à son roi? Il y a quelque chose de touchant à le voir, après
cinquante-trois ans de pontificat, obligé de défendre sa conduite
auprès de collègues plus jeunes que lui, et qui, comme il le leur
rappelle, lui devaient leur ordination. Mais ces confrères avaient pour
eux la lettre des canons, et ce débat entre évêques au sujet de
l'intervention du roi marque bien la distance qu'il y avait entre le droit
strict qui ne lui accordait rien, et la déférence qui lui cédait tout[270].
[270] Sur les élections épiscopales sous les Mérovingiens, il faut lire le bon
mémoire de M. Vacandard dans la Revue des Questions Historiques, t. LXIII
(1898), où est citée, p. 321, n. 1 et 2, la bibliographie antérieure.
Souvent même, c'est l'Église qui allait au-devant du roi, et qui le
sollicitait de trancher des questions, le prenant pour arbitre et
l'honorant de sa confiance. Lorsque saint Fridolin fut élu abbé de
Saint-Hilaire, à Poitiers, il hésita longtemps, nous dit son biographe,
à accepter cette dignité, malgré les instances de l'évêque saint
Adelfius; finalement, vaincu à demi par les prières de l'évêque, il lui
propose d'aller ensemble trouver le roi, pour qu'une affaire de telle
conséquence ne fût pas entreprise sans son concours. Et les voilà
qui partent tous les deux pour le palais royal, l'évêque à cheval,
comme l'exigeait son rang, l'abbé à pied, comme il faisait
d'habitude[271]. Ne voit-on pas comme un tableau en raccourci de
toutes les relations entre l'Église et l'État dans cet évêque et cet
abbé qui vont amicalement trouver le roi, pour le prier de les mettre
d'accord sur une question qui n'est pas de son ressort, mais qu'ils lui
soumettent par déférence et par respect?
[271] Ex vita sancti Fridolini (dom Bouquet, III, p. 388).
Un pareil degré de condescendance de la part de l'Église ne
s'expliquerait guère, si l'on ne savait qu'il était réciproque de la part
du roi. C'est la confiance qui formait la base des relations mutuelles.
Au lieu de délimiter anxieusement leurs frontières, les deux pouvoirs
semblaient s'inviter mutuellement à les franchir. Clovis convoquait
des conciles et intervenait dans les élections épiscopales; mais lui-
même, jusqu'à quel point ne se laissait-il pas inspirer, guider,
conseiller par les évêques? Toute sa politique intérieure, toute son
attitude vis-à-vis des indigènes, c'est l'épiscopat qui l'a dictée, et l'on
a vu plus haut que ce sont des évêques qui ont suggéré la
convocation du concile national. En un mot, son action sur l'Église a
pour contrepoids une action non moins énergique de l'Église sur
l'État. Les évêques composaient son conseil: saint Remi resta
jusqu'à la fin en grand crédit auprès de lui, et on nous dit que saint
Mélaine, évêque de Rennes, compta également parmi ses
conseillers les plus écoutés.
Toute l'hagiographie du temps est remplie des marques de respect
qu'il donna aux évêques. Les récits qui nous en ont gardé le
souvenir n'ont pas tous le degré d'authenticité nécessaire pour
s'imposer à la croyance du lecteur; mais dans l'impuissance où nous
sommes d'y faire le partage exact du vrai et du faux, quoi de plus
légitime que de les reproduire dans leur simplicité, comme des
documents qui ont droit tout au moins à l'attention de l'histoire? C'est
pour cette raison que nous avons cru devoir réserver une place, sur
ces pages, aux épisodes suivants.
Étant en Aquitaine, Clovis entendit parler des vertus de saint
Germier, évêque de Toulouse. Il le fit venir auprès de lui, l'invita à sa
table, et prit grand plaisir à sa conversation. Le saint distribua des
eulogies au roi et à ses grands; eux lui confessèrent leurs péchés et
écoutèrent ses exhortations à la pénitence. Le roi, voyant la sainteté
du prélat, le supplia de prier pour lui, et lui dit:
«Demandez-moi ce que vous voudrez de mes biens, et mes
serviteurs vous accompagneront pour vous le donner.
—Donnez-moi seulement, reprit le saint, dans le territoire de
Toulouse, autant de terre que mon manteau pourra en recouvrir
auprès de Saint-Saturnin, pour que je puisse dormir en paix sous la
protection de ce patron céleste.»
Mais le roi ne voulut pas se laisser vaincre en générosité: il donna
au saint la terre d'Ox avec six milles à la ronde, et, pour son
tombeau, il lui accorda tout le territoire que sept paires de bœufs
pourraient labourer en un jour. Toutes ces libéralités furent
consignées dans des chirographes que le roi et ses grands
scellèrent de leurs sceaux. Le roi y ajouta cinq cents sicles d'or et
d'argent, des croix d'or, des calices d'argent avec leurs patènes, trois
crosses épiscopales en or et en argent, trois couronnes dorées, et
autant de voiles d'autel en byssus. C'est ainsi qu'après être resté
avec le roi pendant une vingtaine de jours, le saint partit chargé de
trésors: le roi l'embrassa en lui faisant ses adieux, et se
recommanda à lui comme un fils[272].
[272] Ex Vita sancti Germerii (dom Bouquet, III, p. 386). Voir l'appendice.
Auch, la vieille cité métropolitaine de la Novempopulanie, a
enveloppé dans un récit aux couleurs bibliques le souvenir qu'elle a
gardé du héros franc. Lorsqu'il approcha de cette ville, dit une
tradition, l'archevêque saint Perpet alla à sa rencontre, et lui
présenta le pain et le vin, comme autrefois Melchisédech à
Abraham. Le roi récompensa magnifiquement le vieux pontife: il lui
donna toute la ville d'Auch avec ses faubourgs, et plusieurs églises;
il offrit également à l'église Sainte-Marie sa tunique et son manteau
de guerre; il lui offrit encore une aiguière d'or, et cent sous d'or pour
faire des couronnes de lumière; il lui assigna de plus un revenu de
cent douze sous d'or à toucher sur le fisc royal; il lui donna enfin
l'église royale de Saint-Pierre-de-Vic. Reconnaissante de tant de
libéralités, l'Église d'Auch célébrait tous les ans, au 3 juin, l'office
double de sainte Clotilde[273].
[273] La plus ancienne attestation de ce récit se trouve dans un acte de 1292,
consigné au registre des enquêtes du parlement de Paris et reproduit par R.
Choppin, De jure monachorum, p. 307; il figure aussi dans un extrait du cartulaire
du chapitre d'Auch, nº 132, reproduit en appendice, nº 7, dans de Brugèles,
Chronique ecclésiastique du diocèse d'Auch, Toulouse, 1746. Voir aussi Baiole,
Histoire sacrée d'Aquitaine, Cahors, 1644, p. 332; Loubens, Histoire de l'ancienne
province de Gascogne, Paris, 1839, pp. 90-91; Monlezun, Histoire de la
Gascogne, Auch, 1846, t. I, p. 189; Lafforgue, Histoire de la ville d'Auch, Auch,
1851. Selon Monlezun, l. c., une des couronnes faites avec l'or offert par le roi a
subsisté jusqu'en 1793; on l'appelait la couronne de Clovis.
Tournai racontait un épisode non moins intéressant. Attiré par la
réputation de l'évêque, saint Éleuthère, Clovis serait venu revoir la
vieille capitale de ses ancêtres, et assister à la prédication du prélat.
Mais une inspiration divine révéla au saint le tourment secret du roi:
il avait péché après son baptême, et il n'osait confesser sa faute.
Profondément ému, le roi essaya vainement de contester la vérité de
cette révélation que l'évêque lui communiqua; il versa des larmes, et
le supplia de prier pour lui. Et voilà que le lendemain, pendant que
l'évêque célébrait le divin sacrifice aux intentions de Clovis, un ange
du Seigneur lui apparut au milieu d'une lumière éblouissante, et lui
annonça que ses prières étaient exaucées. En même temps il lui
remettait un écrit contenant la faute secrète du roi. Clovis rendit des
actions de grâces à Dieu et à saint Éleuthère, et ne quitta Tournai
qu'après avoir comblé l'évêque de ses pieuses largesses[274].
[274] Vita sancti Eleutherii auctior dans les Acta Sanctorum des Bollandistes, 20
février, t. III, pp. 183-190, et Ghesquière, Acta Sanctorum Belgii, t. I, pp. 475-500.
Cette attitude vis-à-vis de l'épiscopat s'expliquerait déjà à suffisance
par des raisons d'ordre politique supérieur. C'étaient les évêques qui
avaient aidé le roi des Francs à établir son pouvoir; c'est par eux et
avec eux qu'il gouvernait. Il le savait, et sa déférence pour eux était
antérieure à sa conversion. Mais, après le baptême, des motifs de
piété s'ajoutèrent aux considérations de la politique pour augmenter
son respect envers les évêques. Il vit en eux des hommes qui
avaient reçu l'Esprit-Saint, et qui étaient les dispensateurs des
faveurs célestes. Leur science, leur sagesse, leur piété, leurs vertus,
la majesté de cette vie sacerdotale qui les élevait au-dessus de la
terre et qui faisait d'eux des hommes surnaturels, tout cela agissait
puissamment sur son âme, religieuse et impressionnable comme
toute âme de barbare. Il se sentait plus rapproché du Dieu qu'il
adorait dans leur société, et il comptait sur leurs prières comme sur
le moyen le plus efficace d'arriver au ciel. L'épiscopat, qui était le
point d'appui de sa politique, était aussi la sûre direction de sa
conscience de chrétien. Comme sa vie publique, sa vie privée
semblait la vérification de cette parole qu'il prononça un jour: «Où
serait l'espoir de vaincre, si nous offensions saint Martin?» Entendez
ici, par saint Martin, l'épiscopat de la Gaule.
Les mêmes sentiments, au dire de la légende, dictaient la conduite
du roi vis-à-vis de toutes les personnes qui, sans occuper un rang
dans la hiérarchie ecclésiastique, se distinguaient par l'éminence de
leurs vertus. Il croyait, avec tous ses contemporains, à l'efficacité de
leurs prières; il était convaincu qu'elles avaient le don d'opérer des
miracles. Lui-même, au dire d'un hagiographe, fut favorisé d'une
guérison miraculeuse obtenue par l'intercession d'un vénérable
solitaire. C'était la vingt-cinquième année de son règne, celle qui
allait être rendue mémorable par la conquête de l'Aquitaine. Il y avait
deux ans qu'il était en proie à la maladie, et ni les prières de son
clergé ni les soins de ses médecins ne parvenaient à le soulager.
Enfin, l'un de ces derniers, nommé Tranquilinus, conseilla au roi de
faire venir Séverin, abbé de Saint-Maurice en Valais, homme doué
de l'esprit de Dieu, et dont les prières obtenaient une multitude de
guérisons miraculeuses. Aussitôt le roi fit partir son chambellan
Transoarius pour Agaune, et le saint, déférant à ses prières, apparut
au chevet du royal malade comme plus tard saint François de Paule
auprès du lit de Louis XI. Après avoir adressé au ciel de ferventes
prières, il ôta son manteau, en revêtit le roi, et à l'instant la fièvre
abandonna le malade. Clovis, plein de reconnaissance, tomba aux
pieds du saint, et le pria de prendre dans son trésor toutes les
sommes qu'il voulait pour les distribuer aux pauvres; il lui offrit aussi
de faire relâcher tous les coupables qui se trouvaient enfermés dans
les prisons[275]. On veut que l'église Saint-Séverin de Paris, qui est
sous le patronage de l'abbé d'Agaune, ait été élevée en souvenir de
cet heureux événement.
[275] Ex Vita sancti Severini Abbatis Agaunensis (dom Bouquet, III, p. 392.) Ce
récit est loin d'être garanti, bien qu'il en soit souvent fait état même par des
historiens peu tendres à l'endroit des légendes, notamment par Junghans, p. 77,
n. 1, par W. Schultze, Das Merovingische Frankenreich, p. 72, et en dernier lieu
par Arnold, Cæsarius von Arelate, p. 242. Voir l'Appendice.
D'autres saints personnages, au dire de la légende, ont été en
rapports intimes avec Clovis. Saint Fridolin de Poitiers, admis à sa
table, a réparé miraculeusement une belle coupe de verre, qui s'était
cassée en tombant des mains du roi au moment où il la présentait
au saint[276]. Un saint ermite du nom de Léonard, qui demeurait
dans la forêt de Panvain, près de Limoges, fit la connaissance du roi
dans des circonstances fort dramatiques. Clotilde, qui était venue
résider avec son époux dans le château de cette forêt, était
menacée de périr dans les douleurs de l'enfantement, et Clovis au
désespoir implora le pieux solitaire de venir à son aide. Léonard se
mit en prières, et la reine fut sauvée par miracle[277].
[276] Ex Vita sancti Fridolini (dom Bouquet, III, p. 388).
[277] Arbellot, Vie de saint Léonard, solitaire en Limousin, Paris, 1863. Les pages
277-289 contiennent le texte d'une vie inédite de saint Léonard, d'après plusieurs
manuscrits dont un du onzième siècle.
Sans doute, la plupart de ces récits ont été embellis par la pieuse
imagination des hagiographes, et il n'est pas interdit de croire que
les épisodes qui sont à la fois les plus extraordinaires et les moins
prouvés appartiennent au domaine de la fiction pure.
Ce qui se dégage des plus authentiques, c'est l'intimité des rapports
entre le roi et les saints, c'est la justesse de l'instinct qui poussait la
royauté à se rapprocher de ceux qui représentaient le mieux les
aspirations chrétiennes de leur peuple. Avec un admirable sentiment
des vrais intérêts de sa couronne, Clovis se mêlait familièrement,
sans crainte de compromettre son prestige, aux hommes humbles et
pauvres revêtus d'une majesté supérieure par le respect public, et le
nimbe de leur sainteté jetait une partie de son éclat sur le front du
souverain. Rien n'a plus contribué à sa popularité que l'amitié des
saints. Les actes de clémence qu'ils lui inspiraient affermissaient son
pouvoir en lui ouvrant les cœurs. Bien des fois, saint Remi et sainte
Geneviève arrachèrent au rude justicier la grâce des malheureux qui
remplissaient les prisons publiques. Parmi ceux que menaçait sa
vengeance, il y avait un grand seigneur du nom d'Euloge, qui se
réfugia dans l'église Notre-Dame de Reims: à l'intercession de Remi,
le roi lui laissa la vie et la possession de ses biens[278]. Au dire d'un
hagiographe, l'évêque aurait même obtenu du roi que chaque fois
qu'il passerait par la ville de Reims ou par son territoire, tous les
prisonniers seraient aussitôt mis en liberté, et, ajoute-t-il, cet usage
se conserve encore aujourd'hui[279].
[278] Hincmar Vita sancti Remigii, dans les Acta Sanctorum des Bollandistes, 1er
octobre, t. I, p. 153 A.
[279] Vie de saint Léonard, éditée par le chanoine Arbellot, c. 3.
Les vastes ressources de la couronne permirent au roi de témoigner
de la manière la plus efficace sa bienveillance à l'Église en la
comblant de ses dons, en venant à son aide dans ses œuvres de
charité et dans ses créations de tout genre. Il faut se souvenir que la
générosité était la première vertu d'un roi germanique. Sa main
devait toujours être ouverte, excepté quand elle brandissait l'épée. Il
passait sa vie à faire des cadeaux, à distribuer à ses amis l'or
travaillé sous forme de bracelets à tours multiples, dont il détachait
les morceaux, et, pour la poésie barbare, il était avant tout le briseur
d'anneaux. Lorsqu'avec les pièces de métal précieux entassées
dans ses trésors, il put disposer aussi des domaines sans nombre
que la conquête avait fait tomber entre ses mains, alors il eut de
nouveaux moyens d'être généreux, et la série des donations de
terres commença. L'Église fut au premier rang des amis qui
participèrent à ces libéralités. On peut dire, sans crainte de se
tromper, que tous les diocèses eurent leur part[280]. Après la
conquête de la Gaule romaine, après celle de la Gaule visigothique,
il s'ouvrit comme deux phases d'abondance qui furent employées à
prodiguer les richesses aux églises. Les actes du concile d'Orléans
parlent expressément des libéralités royales faites ou promises à
tous les diocèses[281]. L'hagiographie ne nous mentionne pas une
seule fois les relations du roi avec quelque saint sans nous faire
connaître les cadeaux dont il le combla. Nous l'avons vu prodiguer
ses dons aux églises Saint-Martin de Tours et Saint-Hilaire de
Poitiers; nous l'avons vu enrichir aussi généreusement saint Germier
de Toulouse et saint Perpet d'Auch; nous savons avec quelle
libéralité il aida saint Eptade à racheter les captifs. Il ne fut pas
moins prodigue envers saint Mélaine de Rennes, qui put faire une
multitude de bonnes œuvres avec les ressources que le roi mettait à
sa disposition[282]. L'église de Vannes se glorifiait de devoir à ses
pieuses largesses le trésor de reliques qu'elle conservait depuis les
jours de saint Paterne, son premier évêque[283]. L'église de Nantes
montrait avec orgueil, dès le douzième siècle, la charte contenant
les faveurs dont l'avait comblée le premier roi de France[284]. Ce
serait une tâche fastidieuse que de relever, dans les biographes et
les chroniqueurs, les récits souvent légendaires qui nous ont
conservé la trace de toutes ces générosités, et il suffit de dire d'une
manière générale que Clovis partagea largement avec l'Église les
richesses considérables qui affluaient de toutes parts dans son
trésor et dans son domaine.
[280] Illi (il s'agit surtout de Clovis) monasteria et ecclesias ditaverunt; isti (il s'agit
de ses petits-fils) eas diruunt ac subvertunt. Grégoire de Tours, iv, 48.
[281] De oblationibus vel agris quos domnus noster rex ecclesiis suo munere
conferre dignatus est, vel adhuc non habentibus Deo inspirante contulerit, ipsorum
agrorum vel clericorum immunitate concessa, id esse justissimum definimus ut...
Sirmond, Concilia Galliæ, I, p. 179; Maassen, Concilia ævi merov., I, p. 4.
[282] Vita sancti Melanii, dans les Acta Sanctorum des Bollandistes. Sur les divers
textes de cette vie, voir l'Appendice.
[283] Un sermon prêché dans la cathédrale de Nancy au douzième siècle et
conservé dans le manuscrit 9093 latin de la bibliothèque nationale à Paris contient
le passage suivant: Circa initia etiam hujus nascentis ecclesiæ, divinæ
misericordiæ dulcor in hoc se aperuit quod Clodovæus rex Francorum
illustrissimus per beatum Paternum patronum nostrum transmisit huic ecclesiæ
desiderabilem thesaurum videlicet etc. Suit une énumération de reliques. V. A. de
la Borderie, Histoire de Bretagne, t. I. p. 204. note 2 et p. 331.
[284] V. dans Dom Morice, Mémoires pour servir de preuves à l'histoire de
Bretagne, t. I, p. 547, le texte de la charte de Louis-le-Gros, datée de 1123, dans
laquelle sont rappelées les libéralités de Clovis; on y lit: «Quoniam vir venerabilis
Bricius Namneticæ sedis episcopus præsentiam nostram non absque magno
labore itineris humiliter adiit et præcepta antiquorum et venerabilium Francorum
regum Karoli, Clodovæi et filii ipsius Clotarii attulit et ostendit, etc. L'authenticité de
cette charte, contestée par Travers, Histoire de la ville et du comté de Nantes, I, p.
244 et par M. C. Port, Dictionnaire de Maine-et-Loire, t. II, s. v. Loué, est défendue
par M. L. Maître, Étude critique sur la charte du roi Louis VI, Rennes 1887, et par
M. A. Luchaire, Louis VI le Gros, Annales de sa vie et de son règne, pp. 153, 323
et suivantes. Au surplus, les défenseurs de l'authenticité ne sont pas d'accord sur
la personne de ce Clovis, père de Clotaire, car cette désignation convient aussi
bien à Clovis II qu'à Clovis Ier; bien plus, si l'on admet qu'ici Clodovæus équivaut à
la forme Hludovicus usitée au onzième siècle, on peut penser à l'une des séries
royales Charlemagne, Louis le Débonnaire et Lothaire, ou encore Charles le
Simple, Louis d'Outre-Mer, Lothaire. M. Luchaire penche pour une de ces
dernières hypothèses, M. Maître, o. c. et M. Orieux (Bulletin de la Société
archéologique de Nantes, t. 39, 1898, p. 59), pensent à Clovis Ier. Selon moi, le
rédacteur de l'acte, authentique ou non, n'a pu penser qu'à un Clovis, et je suis
porté à croire que c'est Clovis Ier.

De tous les prélats sur lesquels il fit pleuvoir ainsi les preuves de sa
munificence, le plus favorisé fut naturellement saint Remi de Reims.
Dès le neuvième siècle, nous entendons la tradition énumérer les
dons qu'il tenait de son généreux filleul. Ils consistaient surtout en
domaines territoriaux, répartis dans plusieurs provinces de la
France. Le saint ne voulut en garder que quelques-uns, situés dans
la partie orientale du royaume, et distribua le reste aux autres
églises, pour qu'on ne pût pas lui reprocher de faire de l'amitié du roi
une source de profits[285]. Toutefois l'église de Reims gardait dans
son trésor un encensoir et un calice émaillé provenant, selon la
tradition, d'un grand vase en argent que Clovis avait donné à saint
Remi, pour en faire ce qu'il voulait[286].
[285] Hincmar, Vita sancti Remigii, 66, dans les Bollandistes, p. 149 C.