Burning Shadows (Saint-Germain #23)

Burning Shadows (Saint-Germain #23) Page 8

DOM FERANESCUS

RAKOCZY SANCTU-GERMAINIOS

Text of a letter from Atta Olivia Clemens in Aquileia to Ragoczy Sanct' Germain Franciscus at Apulum Inferior in the Kingdom of the Gepidae, once the Province of Dacia, written in Imperial Latin on two sheets of vellum in fixed ink and carried by Iraeneus Catalinus, but never delivered.

To my most cherished friend and blood relation, the greetings of Atta Olivia Clemens from her estate at Aquileia on this, the Winter Solstice of the year 438 according to the Christians, the 1191st Year of the City, and the 2557th year since your birth:

How long it has been since I have had word from you - and I am assuming you have written - or received any letters from anyone in old Dacia. Were it not for the accounts of increasing Hunnic raids, I would think only that any messages sent to me had been delayed, but given the increasing alarms from that region, I have become more vexed than I was earlier in the year, which is saying a great deal, and now that word has come that the Western Emperor has hoped to bring about an alliance with the Goths or Gauls against the Huns, I am growing truly distressed; there have been so many assaults on Roma that I doubt any of the Empire is safe. You needn't remind me that I would know if you had died the True Death, but a great deal of harm could come to you without that happening, and I have imagined the most dreadful things.

A month ago I received a visit from a merchant, Demetrios Maius, whom I had known in Porolissum, who has lost everything that he owned that remained there. He is now attempting to gather what little he has left in the towns and cities where he has done business before this ruin came upon him, telling me that he fears for all of the Empire in the West. Assuming he can amass enough to salvage a small trading company for himself, he then plans to leave for Constantinople and enter into a partnership with a cousin who owns ships. His family and household were spared destruction by leaving Porolissum last July, and are now at Ravenna with the family of his mother and her brothers, most of whom are rich; once he has established himself, he will summon his family to join him. His experience is unusual only because he was so beforehand in his planning, and he made the most of the opportunity to depart ahead of the forces of Attila, the new King of the Huns, who he claims is responsible for their new ferocity. He asked me how many others I knew of had got out before the town was razed, and I had to admit that I knew of fewer than five households. Thinking of you, I provided Maius with ten golden Emperors as an initial investment in his new trading company, and the name of your factor in Constantinople, in case his cousin there reneges on his agreement. It is the sort of gesture you would make, don't you think?

How many of the fortunes in what was Dacia can still be secure? How many estates are truly safe? Seharic the Goth is in no position to hire soldiers beyond the ones allied to him by marriage or blood, and he is far from unique among his people. The Gepidae have soldiers, but they fight on foot, not on horseback as the Huns do, which puts them at a disadvantage, even if they had men enough to hold off the Huns. Roma cannot send Legions to protect what is no longer theirs in any case, and the Emperor in Byzantium is not about to risk his troops in Dacia. Stilicho is dead and there is now no General in Byzantium who is willing to take on the Huns as he did. For all his skills, Aetius is in no position to contain the Huns either, and is not likely to act unless he is attacked directly.

Do not, I beg you, consider this a challenge to you to take up arms against the Huns because no living man will do it. It is exactly the kind of foolhardy thing you would do. You have risks enough without making a target of yourself with the Huns. As regional guardian, you may limit your hazards to preserving Apulum Inferior and its extended vicinity, as you are sworn to do, which is dangerous enough without you taking on more. Remarkable though you are, you cannot oppose the Huns alone. Compassion for the living is all very well in its way, but it should include your own survival - not that I suppose you will consider such advice if you see peril increasing.

With most of the Roman Court now removed to Ravenna, depending on the Padus and its swamps around the city to defend it from attack better than walls could, Roma itself is ripe for another plundering. For that reason, I have decided to stay here in Aquileia for the time being. I have sent instructions to Adrastus Feo, the major domo at Sine Pari, to reinforce the villa starting with the outermost walls, and to do the same for Villa Ragoczy. I've ordered that the inner stockade at both estates be strengthened, and weapons provided for defense, for whether or not the Huns come to Roma, Goths or Vandals or Gauls or other northern barbarians may decide to plunder it now that it is so very vulnerable.

Cognizant of the hazards of Aquileia's location, Niklos Aulirios has engaged masons to put a stone wall around the central buildings on this estate. I must thank you again for reanimating him for me. It is more than a century since you restored him to life, and every day he proves his worth a thousand times. He believes stone is the better choice now, since the Huns are known to set wooden walls afire. It is an expensive precaution, but one I endorse, and which I encourage you to consider, as well. Were stonework not so dear in Roma, I would have ordered the walls of our villas ringed with it, but the cost is prohibitive, even with the funds you have provided to me. I may regret my decision in time, and Sine Pari may suffer for it, but I believe that a double wall of standing, close-joined trunks will suffice unless Roma is left entirely without defenders of any sort. It will mean cutting down the wood at Villa Ragoczy, I regret to say, but it is the only way to ensure the work is done quickly and properly, and without paying outrageous prices.

If conditions continue to deteriorate in this region, and Roma remains exposed, I will go to Lago Comus to the villa there; it is properly fortified and there is a company of mercenaries based near-by. If you need a place to come to and you decide not to go back to Constantinople - which, I remind you, would be prudent -  then perhaps you would like to join me there, at least for a short while, say as long as a year? Ordinarily I would agree with your policy of separate lives, but surely two vampires can spend time together without attracting unwanted attention with so much of the world caught up in bloody turmoil; what we do is hardly comparable. We would have the opportunity to enjoy the tranquillity of accepting companionship, which is as advantageous in its way as the passion of the living can be. At least give it some thought, won't you.

You may send me an answer with the man who brings it, Iraeneus Catalinus, one of five couriers recommended to me by the Praetor Custodis of Aquileia. He knows the main roads of old Dacia and most of the minor ones, and has three strong horses for his journey, two from my own stable. He has been to Apulum Inferior and promises to find it again. If the roads are blocked by snow when he reaches the frontier, he will wait in Viminacium until the thaw to deliver this. I ask you to reward him handsomely, since many couriers now refuse to venture north of the Danuvius.

Be safe, my oldest, my dearest friend, and, on behalf of all your forgotten gods, be sensible. Let this anniversary of your birth remind you of the value of your longevity. Remember that I want to know where I can find you once you have removed yourself from harm's way. I should be here for two years unless the Huns come this way, in which case, seek me at Lago Comus. If I leave Lago Comus before you arrive, I will send word of where I have gone to your factors in all the ports where Eclipse Trading operates, so that one way or another, we will reunite, if only for a little while.

Eternally your devoted Olivia

1

Priam Corydon rose from the slated floor of his monastery's church, his shoulders and knees aching; he brushed off the front of his rough-woven pallium, and went to open the doors for the rest of his monks to begin their daily worship. He could barely hear the novice singing the Psalms' worn-down Latin in the chapel behind the altar, for the wind was ululating so loudly that the icons seemed to be transfixed by the uncanny noise. It was half-way between midnight and dawn, so cold that the Priam's breath fogged in front of his face as he trudged toward the door, stamping his feet to help warm them, his wool-lined peri feeling woefully inadequate to keep out the razor-like chill. He told himself that this was the heart of winter, the hardest time that always came shortly after the year turned toward light again, and that he should be grateful that the days were getting longer, but at the moment, he found it difficult to praise God for his discomfort.

Monachos Egidius Remigos, the broad-bodied warder, stood outside the doors, his arms folded, the monks gathered behind him. He made the sign of the fish. "Priam Corydon. God be praised."

Priam Corydon made the sign of the cross. "God be praised, Monachos Egidius. Open the doors to our good monks, that they may receive the blessings of God." He moved aside and let the monks file through.

The last in line was Monachos Niccolae of Sinu, the recorder for the monastery. "I will need a word with you later, Priam Corydon," he said just before he entered the church.

"This evening," said Priam Corydon.

"It is a matter of some urgency."

"After Mass, then." Wondering what had happened this time, Priam Corydon nodded his consent, resigning himself to a busy day; all days had been busy since the refugees arrived. He stood still, watching Monachos Egidius close the door, then listening for the first drone of the Mass chanted in Greek. When he knew the ritual was under way, he went off toward the cross-shaped building that held the monks' cells, the refectory, the kitchens, the library, the infirmary, and the two small offices of the monastery. He would be permitted to sleep until the sky lightened in the east, and this morning, he needed all the rest he could get. With all the refugees inside the monastery's walls, the demands of his position had trebled, with the promise of more duties to come. He recalled that he would have to meet with the Tribune of the garrison from Ulpia Traiana after they all broke their fasts, and then the delegation from Apulum Inferior; perhaps he should see them at the same time, so that there would be no opportunity for anyone to misconstrue his actions. "Christ be merciful," he said, more loudly than he had intended, as he entered the dormitory wing of the building - the right end of the main cross-arm of the crucifix.

"Priam Corydon," mumbled the dormitory warder.

"Monachos Bessamos," said Priam Corydon, passing down the narrow corridor to his own cell at the far end, just off the intersection of the hallways. As he entered his cell, he made the sign of the fish, and then used a small knife to trim the wick on the single oil- l amp burning beneath the Greek crucifix next to the door. In the uncertain light, he made his way to his narrow straw-filled mattress atop a simplified table-bed. He recited his prayers, then lay down, pulling up his single blanket, and did his best, in spite of his worries and the cold, to fall asleep. After a longer time than he had hoped, he was dozing, when a sharp rap on his door brought him awake once again. "What?" he called out.

"I apologize, Priam, but there is a problem in the main kitchen." The monk's voice was strained by his effort to speak softly.

"The main kitchen? Not the dormitories' kitchen?" What on earth could be wrong in the kitchen that it should require his attention so early? A chill that came from something more than the cold of the room came over him. He moved his blanket aside and got to his feet. "I'm coming," he assured the monk outside his door. He made the sign of the fish at the crucifix, then let himself out the door, his patience fading as he pulled the door open.

Monachos Vlasos, the butcher for the monastery, stood at the door. Even in the indefinite light it was possible to see he had a bruise over his eye. "I'm sorry, Priam Corydon, but I thought this couldn't wait: there has been an attempt to raid the pantry, undoubtedly by a group of refugees, since no monk would do so uncharitable a thing. Not that I actually saw the men who tried to steal our meat, but I believe they must have been among the groups of outsiders who now make their camp within our walls. I know they must be the culprits, since I can't imagine any of our monks resorting to theft."

Priam Corydon gave a long, tired sigh. "I suppose this shouldn't surprise us that the refugees might do something so reckless; they have so little. Those coming with the troops from Ulpia Traiana were nearly out of food by the time they arrived here, and had been on short rations. Not all of them have been fed well in the last two days, either." They went back to the hub of the cross-shaped building and turned down the corridor that led to the refectory and kitchens at the west end of the structure. "Was anyone seriously hurt, aside from you?"

Monachos Vlasos made the sign of the cross. "One of the novices, who keeps watch on the kitchen fires for the second half of the night - "

"Would that be Penthos or Ritt?" Priam Corydon interrupted. "Or that youngster Corvius?"

"Ritt," said Monachos Vlasos. "He has a broken arm, I think." They went on a few strides in silence, then he added, "He may have seen two of the men."

"Why do you say that: may have?"

"He is dazed and overwhelmed with pain, and has told me very little," Monachos Vlasos explained; they had reached the refectory and were passing through it toward the kitchens that were at the foot of the cross at the broadened rooms representing the foot-rest on the Greek crucifix.

"The monks in the infirmary have their hands full," said Priam Corydon.

"They say there is a good physician with the people from Apulum Inferior - their regional guardian, in fact." Monachos Vlasos knew better than to suggest that the Priam speak to the stranger, but thought mentioning the man would help. "Dom Sanctu-Germainios. He has ... had land at Apulum Inferior, and a small trading company. Enlitus Brevios has told me that Dom Sanctu-Germainios saved the life of the first leader of their Watchmen, though it cost the man his leg, and he tells me that he yesterday removed two toes from Hovas, whose feet were frozen during the hunt for his lost son. I understand that the Dom has a trading company in Constantinople, though he isn't Roman or Greek."

"Most interesting," said Priam Corydon, trying to make up his mind if he should send for this man; as regional guardian for the region of Apulum Inferior, he would have to be included in their meeting in the coming morning, so he might as well summon him now. "Will you find him and bring him here?"

"I suppose I can do that. He has several wagons among those brought here, and a number of servants. No slaves, they tell me. He keeps himself in his own wagon. One of the night Watchmen should be able to point it out to me." He made the sign of the cross and hurried toward the side-door to the refectory, where he paused. "Shall I tell him what's happened?"

"No, I don't think so. Just say that one of the novices has been injured and requires special treatment. There will be speculation, of course, but at least it need not be too outrageous." The Priam watched Monachos Vlasos let himself out into the night, then he ducked into the corridor leading to the main kitchen, where he found the novice huddled, whimpering, near the largest hearth, his arm held across his body, his face white except for the pits of his eyes. "Ritt," he said, leaning over to inspect the young man, "I am sorry you are hurt. I regret that you have had to suffer for your devotion."

"God have mercy," Ritt said, as if he doubted it were possible. Hunkered down as he was, he looked small for his fifteen years.

"How do you feel?" It was a foolish question, Priam Corydon decided, so he amended it. "How bad are your injuries?"

"I'm cold," he mumbled. "My arm is burning. Corvius ran away."

"He will ask God for mercy for such an act," said Priam Cory- don.

Ritt's teeth chattered. "It's so cold."

Priam Corydon touched Ritt's forehead and felt a film of chilly sweat on it. "Then we must warm you. It's bad enough that you are hurt."

"Monachos Anatolios would say that hurt is - "

At the mention of the apocalypticistic monk, Priam Corydon stiffened but he said nothing against Monachos Anatolios; he would pray for patience later. "I have sent Monachos Vlasos to bring you a worthy physician. He will attend to your hurts."

Ritt nodded slowly. "Thank you, Priam."

"Thank Monachos Vlasos and God; it is my responsibility to guard you from harm. You ought to expect it of me." He realized as he said it that he felt deeply guilty, and that Monachos Anatolios would make the most of his failing. "You will have good care, and with God's Grace, you will recover without lasting harm."

"May God be praised," whispered the novice.

Priam Corydon went to the wood-box and pulled out two substantial branches cut to fit in the maw of the fireplace. "I'm going to build up the fire, so you will not be so cold."

The youth mumbled a response, his teeth still chattering as he tried to pray.

"Did you see who attacked you?" Priam Corydon asked as he put the branches onto the glowing embers of the night-fire.

"No. They weren't monks," he answered with some vehemence.

"Not monks," said Priam Corydon as he stepped back to avoid the shower of sparks that accompanied his prodding of the coals with the fire-fork.

"No. They didn't smell like monks, they didn't sound like monks ..." His voice faded suddenly, becoming a mewl of pain.

Priam Corydon abandoned his efforts on the fire and knelt down next to Ritt. "It won't be much longer. You will be better by dawn."

"May God spare me," the novice cried softly.

"We will pray for you at the morning Office."

Ritt nodded listlessly.

The sound of a door closing thundered along the corridor, and almost at once there was the sharp report of rapid footsteps from two persons; Priam Corydon had rarely heard such a welcome sound. He got to his feet, anticipating the return of Monachos Vlasos with the physician.

"Priam Corydon," said Monachos Vlasos as he entered the main kitchen, "this is Dom Feranescus Rakoczy Sanctu-Germainios, the regional guardian of Apulum Inferior."

"God reward you for coming, Dom," said Priam Corydon, liking the man he saw: a bit taller than most, sturdily built with a deep chest and powerful, well-shaped legs, his dark hair trimmed in the old Roman style; his cheeks were shaved, and his narrow beard was carefully cut; his countenance was regular, although his nose was a little askew. His most striking feature were his eyes: the most compelling dark eyes that seemed almost black but glinted blue. He carried a leather case under his waxed-wool byrrus.

"Monachos Vlasos tells me that he and his assistants were attacked by men seeking to steal meat from the larder." His eyes went from Priam Corydon's to the novice. "It looks as if the boy has taken the worst of the fight."

"I couldn't see them," Ritt grumbled.

Sanctu-Germainios crouched next to the novice and eased him out of his huddle so that he could examine his arm. "They bent the arm back and snapped both bones below the elbow; I think they may have intended to break the bone above the elbow, not the two lower ones," he said when he had finished his scrutiny. "And they unseated the elbow in its joint. I'll have to align the bones and splint them before I reset the joint."

"How long will it take?" Priam Corydon asked.

"No longer than it must," Sanctu-Germainios said, and looked about the kitchen. "How long until the cooks begin the breakfast?"

"The monastery's slaves will rise in a short while. They will be here well before sunrise," said Priam Corydon.

"Then is there a room nearby where I may take this young man?" Sanctu-Germainios asked. "Preferably one with a large table and torches or oil-lamps for light?"

Priam Corydon answered quickly. "There is a drying room for herbs and fruit. It has a table and two trees of oil-lamps."

"How far away?"

This time Monachos Vlasos answered. "It is on the west end of this extension - about twenty paces."

"That should do. When the lamps are lit, I will set to work there." Sanctu-Germainios looked down at Ritt. "I will carry you, but before I do, I will give you an anodyne drink so that you will not have much pain."

"Do you want me to summon monks or slaves to carry him?" Priam Corydon asked.

"I can carry him," said Sanctu-Germainios. He opened his case and took out a small, covered cup, which he held to Ritt's lips. "Drink this. Not too quickly."

The novice did his best to comply, only once giving a sputtering cough. "God spare me," he whispered before he finished the contents of the cup.

Monachos Vlasos left the kitchen, saying, "I'll light the lamps." A short while later, Sanctu-Germainios lifted Ritt in his arms with little show of effort, and bore him into the drying room; he was struck at once by the odor of fennel and thyme, rosemary and figs, but he paid no attention to them as he laid Ritt out on the table, took his case from Priam Corydon, and said, "I have slats for splinting, but I may need cloth for a sling."

"I will have someone bring it to you. Will linen do?"

"Very well." He paused. "Also, I may be a bit late for the meeting this morning. I hope you will explain my absence to the others."

"Certainly. God be thanked for you." The Priam made the sign of the cross, then withdrew from the room, praying that he had made the right choice and that Dom Sanctu-Germainios would be able to care for Ritt properly. He worried about his decision through prayers and breakfast and the first of his meetings that morning, trying to keep his mind on what the Tribune of Ulpia Traiana had to say rather than fretting about Ritt.

"It is for me to uphold the honor of the Legions, for the sake of my great-great-grandfathers, who served so well. Honoribus Ro- manum, as they would have said." Bernardius folded his arms to express his determination and pride of heritage, and a lack of awareness of his ramshackle Latin. "I'll be glad to organize a temporary garrison here, of course." He was a tall, substantial man with hazel-green eyes and a true Roman nose that was marred by an angled scar; his light- brown hair was thinning, so like Gaius Julius Caesar, over four hundred years before, he combed it all forward and kept it trimmed short.

"I had hoped it would not come to that," said Priam Corydon. "So might we all hope," said Rotlandus Bernardius. "But the Huns might not feel so magnanimous. We should prepare for the worst, you know."

"I know," said Priam Corydon heavily.

"There are men enough to do the needed labor, and enough of them to man the battlements when they are completed." Bernardius made an abrupt turn about the confined space that was Priam Corydon's office. "I will speak with the Watchmen from Apulum Inferior, and between them and my men, we should be able to set up a successful defense for all of Sanctu-Eustachios."

Mangueinic eased himself more comfortably into his chair, taking care to adjust the soft shearling lining the socket of his wooden leg to prevent any binding against his healing stump. "Enlitus Brevios will welcome the chance to assist in protecting this place; it is fitting that we do our part to preserve Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit. Our Watchmen are eager to demonstrate their gratitude for the haven you provide." Although he knew his presence was due to his new appointment as advisor to the Watchmen of Apulum Inferior, he was determined to make himself useful.

"That would be welcome," Priam Corydon conceded. "If we must fight, it would be better left to secular men."

"So I think," said Bernardius, and was about to continue when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Priam Corydon asked, wondering what had happened now.

"Sanctu-Germainios. Your novice is resting in his cell; his broken arm is set and splinted and his elbow is realigned. I will look in on him at mid-day."

"God be praised," said Priam Corydon, making the sign of the cross.

"Is this the regional guardian of Apulum Inferior?" Bernardius asked quietly. "I have been told he is an accomplished man for a foreigner."

"Yes. Would you like to speak with him?" He started toward the door before Bernardius could answer.

"He's an excellent fellow: excellent," Mangueinic informed Bernardius.

"Your people say good things of him," said Bernardius, "for all that he isn't a true Roman, a Byzantine, or even a Goth."

Not wanting to show any sign of favor, Priam Corydon said nothing to the Tribune and the former leader of the Watchmen; he called out to the black-clad foreigner, who was already some distance away from the door, "Dom Sanctu-Germainios, if you would join us for a short while ..."

Sanctu-Germainios stopped and looked back. "As you like," he said, coming back to Priam Corydon.

To account for his request, Priam Corydon remarked, "I thought it would take longer for you to finish your care of Ritt."

"So did I," Sanctu-Germainios said as he entered the office.

"His break was less complicated than I had expected, and his elbow had not swelled much, so my work was quickly done." He looked at the man across the room and made a shrewd guess. "You must be the Tribune of Ulpia Traiana."

Bernardius gave a startled stare. "I am."

"It is a privilege to meet you at last, Tribune," said Sanctu-Germainios with a little salute, his right hand touching his left shoulder before he extended it to Bernardius.

"The Tribune was just explaining his plans for garrisoning the monastery," said Priam Corydon. "The refugees from Ulpia Traiana, Apulum Inferior, and - what was that other town?"

"Tsapousso," Sanctu-Germainios supplied.

"Ah, yes: Tsapousso," said Priam Corydon. "It seems to me that if you can come to an accord, it would be useful to all of us."

"I cannot speak for any of the refugees," Sanctu-Germainios pointed out. "But I can help us all agree on your plan's particulars."

"We need a clear statement, all proper," Bernardius agreed. "Something everyone can understand."

"Then let us address our concerns; I will send for the recorder for Sanctu-Eustachios to take down our discussion," said Priam Corydon, and decided to send for Monachos Niccolae of Sinu to record their agreement. "We will distribute our items of agreement throughout all the monastery."

"An excellent notion," said Mangueinic, trying not to fret as his missing foot began to itch once more.

"Then let us discuss our intentions while one of the novices brings Monachos Niccolae to us," Priam Corydon proposed. "The agreement could be read at supper to everyone."

"In Roman and Byzantine dialects, as well as Gothic, Dacian, and the languages of the Gepidae and the Carpi," Mangueinic appended. "We may need more besides."

"Yes," said Priam Corydon heavily. "In all those tongues, if we are to understand one another. Those of your men who know two languages will prove most useful to all of us." He was fairly sure that Monachos Niccolae would resent such a demanding task. "Can any of you help him with other languages? We wish to make this task as undaunting as possible."

"I can," said Sanctu-Germainios.

Text of the agreement for conduct and order at Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit monastery, written officially in Byzantine Greek with copies in five other tongues.

To the monks, novices, slaves, soldiers, and refugees currently resident at Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit monastery, take heed to observe these terms of order to be enforced from this, the twelfth day following the Winter Solstice, in the new Christian Year of 439: This is a haven for all who have come here, and it must be part of our purpose to keep it as safe for all those living within its walls. Comradeship must be maintained among all of us sharing the dormitories, the warehouse, the provisions for livestock, and all other aspects of civilized Christian life. To that end, we endorse and will impose the following regulations, all implementation of prescribed punishments to be administered equally, showing no favor to one group or person over another:

There shall be no physical disputes among any of the residents. Any residents who resort to fighting may be confined to cells for five days for a first offense, and exiled from the monastery for a second offense. Any resident whose fighting has caused a death will be exiled at the first offense.

Any abuse of any of the women abiding within the monastery walls will result in castration of the offender and immediate exile.

Any theft of monies or possessions will be put before a magisterial committee consisting of Priam Corydon of Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit; Mangueinic, advisor to the Watchmen of Apulum Inferior; Denerac of Tsapousso; and Tribune Rotlandus Bernardius of Ulpia Traiana. Anyone found guilty of theft will be confined to a cell for ten days for a first offense, confined to a cell for a month for a second offense, and exiled for a third. Anyone maliciously and erroneously accusing another of theft will spend five days in a cell for a first offense, and exiled for a second.

Any deliberate insults visited upon one group of refugees to another, or to a monk or novice, or to soldiers, will result in those offering the insults to have beer and roasted game withheld from all of the members of that group for a period of ten days for a first offense and for fifteen days for a second, the withholding to be supervised by Monachos Bessamos or Monachos Vlasos according to the preference of the offended group. Any monk insulting any refugee or soldier will be confined to his cell for a period of fifteen days, and fed on bread and water.

Any resident deliberately inciting fear in other residents will be confined to a monk's cell for thirty days.

Any resident resorting to lewd or irreligious behavior will be confined to a cell for a period of ten days for a first offense, thirty for a second offense, and exile for a third.

Any resident found stealing foodstuffs or hoarding needed food will be consigned to a cell for ten days for a first offense and exiled for a second.

Any resident withholding feed for the livestock of others in favor of his own will be fined half of his food supply for his animals for a first offense, and will lose title to his livestock entirely for a second. Any hunter holding back his kill from the residents of Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit will be confined to a cell for ten days for a first offense and confined for thirty days for a second one, and be deprived of his bows, arrows, and spears for a period of two months.

Those who offend against these regulations may expect the punishments described to be meted out promptly. Enforcement of the regulations will be the province of the Watchmen of Ulpia Traiana and Apulum Inferior. Those who believe they have been wrongfully accused may engage an advocate to press that claim, provided the advocate is approved by at least three of the undersigned.

Agreed to by:

Rotlandus Bernardius, Tribune of Ulpia Traiana

Mangueinic, advisor to the Watchmen of Apulum Inferior (his mark)

Denerac, master of Tsapousso (his mark)

Priam Corydon of Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit

Witnessed by:

Monachos Niccolae of Sinu, recorder for Sanctu-Eustachios the Hermit

Dom Feranescus Rakoczy Sanctu-Germainios, regional guardian of Apulum Inferior (his sigil, the eclipse) Enlitus Brevios, deputy to Mangueinic (his mark)