Faith

Callista and Lucius

Masallia, Gaul
Vestalia, the Ides of June, the seventeenth year of the reign of the Emperor Diocletian (302 CE)

Cassandra was looking for her lawyer Justinius. She walked gracefully and sedately through the crowds at the governor's mansion, followed by her retinue of two slave-girls and an impressively muscled Nubian who wore only a loincloth and a turban. Rich widows had to keep up appearances.

They were passing through the gardens when her head began to ache with the presence of an Immortal, and Senator Tullo's peevish voice came from a small high window in the guest quarters. "You are like an ass at the lyre, fool! Do you know nothing of how to arrange the toga?"

Cassandra was still walking calmly, hoping to leave before being discovered, when a softer, deeper voice replied. "Your pardon, Most Illustrious. I am entirely clumsy."

She recognized that voice immediately, even though she had not heard it for almost eight centuries. The goddess Fortuna had turned the wheel; Tak-Ne was the slave this time, and Cassandra was in a position to buy him, if the Senator were agreeable to the sale. Cassandra smiled to herself and kept walking. He would be. She would see to that.

A short time later at the banquet, she asked the governor to introduce her to the senator.

"Most Illustrious, this is Callista Macedo, one of the largest landowners in the area," the governor said as he bowed to Senator Tullo, a tall man with thinning gray hair. The senator bowed back minutely, and the governor left them alone.

"Is this your first time to the province of Gaul?" she asked, smiling at the senator.

Senator Tullo sniffed and refolded a pleat in his toga. "Our Divine Emperor Diocletian has decreed that Gaul is not a province, but a diocese, under the rule of Caesar Constantius."

"Of course," she murmured, bowing her head. "Thank you for correcting me. I am unaccustomed to thinking of such matters, unlike an important man such as yourself."

He sniffed again. "You are a woman. You have no need to know of such things."

"As you say, Senator," she agreed. "I am a widow, with no husband to guide me." She put on her most innocent, helpless expression. "I am in need of advice, and I had hoped that I might ask you?" She glanced around the crowded banquet hall, then said, "But perhaps, in private? It is ... a personal matter." She laid her hand appealingly on his arm.

"Of course," said the senator, with a wintry smile and a lustful appraisal. "I would be glad to help you, in a personal matter." The gongs were struck to call the diners to the tables, and he said, "I will look for you, after the banquet."

Cassandra smiled and bowed her head again.

The next morning, Cassandra left the governor's mansion with a signed bill of sale in her hand, granting her ownership of one Lucius - a male slave, age fifty years, no scars, fluent in Greek, Latin, and Egyptian, able to read and write. Tak-Ne was hers.

But not for long. "Should I free you now," she asked after they had gone through the city's gate, and headed on the North Road to her estate, "or do you want to work it off?"

"Before I decide that, I want to know much I cost," he said, walking beside her litter. A male slave could not ride with his mistress, not without arousing indignation and gossip, and the roads were crowded with people on their way to and from the city.

"Not very much," she said, then laughed at his affronted expression. "It's no matter. I want to repay you for those factories you gave me back in Corinth. You'll be free in a few days. My lawyer is already drawing up the papers."

"Thank you," he said, with a slight bow. "I didn't enjoy catering to that pompous idiot."

"No," she murmured. "I didn't think you did." She didn't enjoy catering to masters, either. "How did you come to be a slave?"

"Taxes," he said in disgust. "I had a comfortable little farm in Sardinia, then one day it was confiscated by the tax officials, and me along with it. The other farmers and I were sold to pay off the tax bill." He shook his head. "These taxes are going to destroy the empire. There won't be anybody left to pay them if they enslave everyone."

"It is getting bad," Cassandra agreed. "And the new edict against raising prices has confused things even more. People are hoarding food, bartering for goods, hiding what little money they do have."

"At least we're done with those interminable wars of succession. Four emperors in one year, armies tramping everywhere - bah!" He glanced at the richly appointed litter and the escort of slaves and bodyguards walking alongside. "You're doing well for yourself," he commented.

She smiled thinly. "I am a rich landowner. I am exempt from paying taxes." That was the tax policy which would destroy the Empire. She had seen it happen before. But this culture wasn't ready to collapse completely, not yet. She would stay for a few more decades. It was nice to be rich, for a change.

His gaze had come to rest on her, starting at her high-heeled sandals, up the silken folds of her turquoise gown, to the jeweled belt around her waist, then more slowly along the curves of her bodice until he met her eyes. "You look ... exquisite," he said, his brown eyes glinting in the sunshine, his voice as she remembered: warm, deep, and inviting.

"Thank you," she said, then leaned over and opened the curtain wider to let in a cooling breeze. It was much too hot inside the litter. "So, what of your sword?" she asked briskly.

"I hid it, right before they came for me." His mouth twisted, firm lips thinning behind the short-clipped beard. "I hope it's still there."

"I'll give you a travel pass to go get it, after you're freed."

"Good." He picked at the rough weave of his simple brown tunic disdainfully. "I'll need new clothes, too, before I travel." Tak-Ne grinned at her. "Can I borrow some money from you?"

"Yes," she said, amused by his audacity.

"Did you start a school with the money from the factories?" he asked.

She nodded. "In Potidaea. I lived there off and on, for about seventy years, until Athens lay siege to the city." She had been captured during that war and sold into slavery. Again. It got tedious.

"And since then?"

"Teaching, of course. I started four other schools, and I was at the library in Alexandria most of the last century. I've traveled quite a bit." Sometimes she had hidden, sometimes she had run, occasionally she had fought, but she had survived. "And you?"

"Traveling, as you say. Seeing what the world has to offer." He smiled at her, offering a great deal.

Cassandra nodded pleasantly, then leaned back on the cushions and covered a yawn with her hand. "We'll talk more later. I'm going to take a nap now."

Tak-Ne bowed his head in a show of obedience, then moved back to walk with the other slaves.

She dozed off easily, lulled by the swaying motion as her bearers walked along the straight stone-paved Roman road. She had not gotten much sleep last night.

They stopped for the mid-day meal near a bend in the river. Tak-Ne stood next to her while she ate under the shade of the trees. Appearances must be maintained. The other slaves sat a short distance away, eating their food, save for young Marcia, Cassandra's personal servant.

"How much longer until we reach your estate?" Tak-Ne asked.

"We're on it," Cassandra answered, then motioned to the fields of grape vines, and the cattle pastures in the hills. "That's all mine."

"Really?" Tak-Ne shot her a look, more appraising than appreciative, more respectful than familiar. "You are doing well for yourself."

Marcia poured a cup of wine, then offered it to her mistress. Cassandra sipped at it, smiling up at Tak-Ne. The wheel of fortune had indeed turned.

Tak-Ne left six days later to retrieve his sword, then he came back to her estate to work for her. Cassandra had mentioned that she needed a farm manager, and Tak-Ne was more than qualified for the job. Besides, he enjoyed her company, and it was good to be able to talk freely with another Immortal. And to practice with their swords.

"A rich widow can be more eccentric than a slave," she told him, facing him with her sword in her hand.

She was no match for him in strength, of course, but she was very fast, and she knew some tricks he had never seen before. He had tricks of his own. Over the next three years, they learned a great deal from each other.

Tak-Ne whistled as he walked past the pool in the atrium and headed toward Cassandra's office. She was expecting him, of course; they had sensed each other before he had come through the entry hall. She was facing the doorway, relaxed yet ready, her hands partially hidden in the pleats of her green-striped gown. Her sword was concealed in her desk, but Tak-Ne knew it was there. His katana, as always, was by his side.

"Salve, Mistress Callista," he greeted her formally, mindful of the slave-woman Marcia standing against the wall, and the three farmers who stood ill-at-ease in the center of the room.

"Salve, Lucius," she answered, motioning him toward the wooden stool in the corner, while she seated herself on the wicker chair behind the desk. Cassandra turned her attention back to the farmers, speaking to the shortest. "So, Garix, you wish me to collect on your loans by buying your farms from you. Then you will continue to work on them, and pay me rent?"

"Yes, Mistress," Garix said. "We're already in debt to you, and we cannot pay our taxes." He motioned to his black-bearded companion, who ducked his head in embarrassment. "Rinton here has already sold his oxen and his plow. He's kept his barley seed, but he won't be able to get it planted next season anyway."

The third farmer, a burly fellow with graying wisps of hair on a bald scalp, spoke up. "My neighbor just sold his two of his daughters to the brothels. The younger one was eight." He planted his feet firmly apart and hooked his thumbs into his plain leather belt. "I'll not sell my daughter to the brothels. Not now, not next year, nor the year after that. I'd rather see her dead."

Cassandra nodded, her face expressionless, then looked at each of them intently. "You realize that if you sell me your land, you will be tenant farmers. The law of origo forbids you - or your sons, or their sons - to leave the farms. You will be bound here, not slaves who can be sold at auction, but serfs nonetheless."

Garix shrugged. "We'll be slaves soon enough anyway, if we don't pay our taxes. And I'd rather be a serf here - on land I've lived all my life and with my family about me - than sold to some far-off land, and see my wife and children sold away."

Tak-Ne stretched and eased out his legs, remembering the day the slavers had come for him. Hard times, hard choices. The Celts of Gaul had been such a proud tribe once, greeting each other as "free people." Now they were reduced to serfs, begging for the chance to farm the land their ancestors had owned, while the rich landowners of the region became like little kings. And queens, he acknowledged, glancing at Cassandra.

Rinton spoke now, his voice squeaky with uneasiness. "We'd rather be bound to you, Mistress, than to Publius Breticio."

Tak-Ne couldn't blame him. Breticio was the other local magnate, and the man was a lamprey - all sharp teeth and slimy skin, with cold water in his veins instead of blood, and a voracious appetite in his soul.

"I will not always be mistress here," Cassandra said.

The farmers shuffled their feet and looked at each other, then Garix spoke for them all. "We can't worry about that, Mistress. The tax-collectors are coming in three days."

She sighed and nodded. "I'll have my lawyer draw up the deeds of sale. You may sign the papers when he is done." She turned to her slave-woman. "Marcia, show them to the kitchen and see that they are fed."

When they had left the room, she shoved the scrolls on the desk away from her and stared at the polished wood. "I don't like owning people."

"You're a good mistress," he said, coming to stand near the desk.

She snorted. "That's because I know what it's like to be on the other side."

So did he. "Cassandra...," he began, touching her on the shoulder.

She froze under his hand, and he pulled it away immediately. She did not look at him as she went to stare out the latticed window into the garden. Her auburn hair was coiled in a crown of intricate braids on top of her head, and loose tendrils curled on the nape of her neck. His fingers itched to replace those wayward curls.

He stayed where he was, knowing she would flee if he pursued. "Why do you always pull away?"

She crossed her arms in front of her, and her back went stiff. "So I can be the first to leave."

A common pattern for Immortals, always leaving, always moving. Always alone. "Cassandra, I know it shatters us to watch them die, but you and I are Immortal. It doesn't have to be that way with us."

Her hands tightened on her arms, the fingers digging into the flesh, and she shook her head in bitter denial. "Dying isn't the only way to leave, and mortals aren't the only ones to go."

Ah. He had stopped giving his heart to mortals after Shakiko had died, but there were other ways to be left alone. "What happened?" he asked, very gently, very softly.

Her lips twisted in a pathetic attempt at a smile. "My first master, the first man who ever..."

The first? Nearly two thousand years ago? This hurt went deep in her. "He sold you?"

"No." The word came out soft and strangled. "Not even that. He gave me away. I thought I had pleased him well, kept him happy, and he just ... handed me over one day, gave me to another man. When the other man started to..." She stopped and took a slow breath, then continued, "I called for my master, begged him to help me, but he never came." She shrugged. "I was nothing to him."

Cassandra turned from the window, and her voice was coldly determined. "I was very young then, very foolish. I'm not anymore."

Neither of them were, but there was still a time for happiness in their lives. There was always time for that. "You lied to me in Corinth, didn't you?" he asked, seeing now why she had refused him. "You don't prefer women."

"I prefer love," she answered. "And I need trust. Finding both together is hard."

He walked over to her and gently wiped away the tear on her cheek with his thumb. "Not so hard," he said. "Not for us."

"Tak-Ne...," she whispered, shaking her head, but she did not move away from him this time.

"I am not your master now, Cassandra. And," he said with a grin, "you are no longer mine. We have no power over each other, except the power we choose to give." She was still hesitating, still poised to flee, and he added, very softly, "The power of faith, and the power of love."

The darks of her eyes grew larger, and she trembled, but with a mixture of desire and fear.

He grinned again and repeated what he had said to her long ago, breaking some of that tension. "It would be most enjoyable. For both of us."

An answering smile flitted across her face, then disappeared. "I can't..."

"You can, if you want to. Do you want to, Cassandra?" He knew she did, and he also knew she was terrified of that want, that need. "I can't promise never to leave you, but I will never betray you."

"I know," she said softly.

"We can be more than friends," he offered, taking her hands in his, not grasping, just holding them on his palms, so she could pull away if she chose. He had offered her reassurance, now he appealed to her strength and her pride. "Don't let what he did to you then control you now, Cassandra. We can trust each other, and maybe together we can find love."

She nodded slowly, and the determination came back, but it was not cold this time. "Yes," she said, and held tight to his hands. "Yes," she said again, then stepped forward and kissed him with a deep hungry longing that seared them both with its ache of loneliness.

Tak-Ne finally broke from the kiss, then chuckled and kissed her on the forehead as he held her comfortably within his arms. "I was right about you, all those years ago," he said. "You are a woman of deep passions."

"And I was right about you," she said, smiling back up at him with that joyous smile he had seen only a few times, but still remembered. "You prefer willing - " She slid her hands up to his shoulders and urged him closer.

"Very willing," Tak-Ne agreed, finally allowing his fingers to wander to those tempting curls at the back of her neck.

"- and enthusiastic - " she murmured against his lips, her hands moving lower down his back.

"Very enthusiastic." He kissed her this time, the passion overcoming the loneliness, but still searing both of them with need.

"- bedpartners!" she concluded triumphantly, her eyes sparkling, her face flushed.

"Yes, you were right about me," he said, smiling. "So, where's the bed?"

The next day, they went to a small village near the sea, away from gossip and prying eyes. Mistresses and their former slaves were not supposed to consort with one another. But they consorted, frequently - on the beach, in the water, at night when the sky was black silk scattered with stars, in the morning when the fresh breeze came from the sea, in the heat of the day in their hut.

"It's good that I'm Immortal," he said, lying on his back, holding her close while she twined her fingers in his chest hair. "I could never keep up with you otherwise."

Cassandra laughed and kissed him. "I have a lot of catching up to do." She kissed him again, then kissed the tip of his nose. "And you're the perfect man to do it with."

He smiled at that and ran his hand down to her backside, casually following the curves there. "How long has it been for you?"

"Some years," she answered, not answering at all. She had been sold to the brothels in Rome during Nero's reign over two centuries ago, and she hadn't wanted any man to touch her since then, until now. But Tak-Ne didn't need to know that, and she didn't want to think about that. "Let's go swimming," she said suddenly, and he laughed and came with her to the beach.

They swam in the blue-green waves, then made love again under the shade of the trees. "Have you ever married a mortal?" he asked, holding her close again.

"Three times," she answered, then decided she could trust him with more. "My first husband was Taleer, before I was a century old. He was a musician in the Temple where I was a priestess. We were together nearly forty years; we raised three children." She closed her eyes, but the memory of his face was blurred. She could still see his hands, though - beautiful hands the color of mahogany; long, elegant fingers, calluses on the sides of his fingertips from the strings of the lyre.

"A good man for you," Tak-Ne observed.

"Yes," she agreed, remembering clearly Taleer's gentleness, his patience, and his love. "A good man." She smiled at the man she was with now. "As are you." Tak-Ne was not prone to jealousy, but talking about old lovers was still awkward, and some reassurance was called for.

"Your other husbands?" he asked, still curious.

"Mal-tek died of a fever after we had been together about ten years. When I was about five hundred, I married Garon and became mother to his four children. Our village was raided; they all died." The leader of that raid had been an Immortal named Roland. He was immune to the Voice, and he had his own way of playing the Game. He had tortured her family to death in front of her, made her watch from a cage while her husband and her children screamed for her to help them. She didn't want to talk about that, either.

"After that..." She shrugged. After that, she had avoided becoming involved with mortals. She had had friends and taken lovers from time to time, been fond of them, cared about them, but she had never dared to love them. Mortals you loved were valuable - and unwitting - pawns in the Game. "And you?" she asked, turning the conversation to him.

"My first wife was Nipik, in Egypt before I became Immortal, then En-thalat in Babylon." He paused, and Cassandra squeezed his hand lightly, remembering what he told her about the Kurgan. He returned the pressure, then continued. "My third wife was Shakiko, a princess in Ni-Hon. She died nearly eight centuries ago. And after that..." He smiled at her and shook his head. "It's not an easy life, sometimes."

"No."

"But it is life," he said, stretching luxuriously and happily. "And there's so much to see, so much to do."

She knew that, and being with Tak-Ne made it easier to keep believing it.

"I think that's why the Fates made me Immortal," Tak-Ne continued. "They knew I wouldn't be happy until I had experienced all that life has to offer."

"Oh?" she asked. "And what haven't you experienced yet?"

"I don't know," he answered grinning. "Why don't you show me things, and then I'll tell you if I've done them before or not."

"This could be most enjoyable," she said, her fingertips trailing a delicate path down from his chest.

"For both of us," he agreed, his own hands wandering here and there.

Cassandra sold her estate after another ten years, knowing it was time to move on. People were beginning to talk about the widow who did not age. She gave final gifts of lands and funds to the two schools she had established in the region, then she and Tak-Ne moved to Africa, then Egypt, then Greece once again. They stayed together for another seventy years, parting from time to time, meeting again after a year or two. When Theodosius was Emperor, Cassandra went to Hispania to meet Tak-Ne, as they had agreed.

He was not alone. "This is Roderigo Rubio, my student," Tak-Ne said, performing the introductions in the courtyard, under the shade of the flowering lemon tree. "Rubio, this is Callista, a friend of mine."

The tall thin Immortal stood stiffly at attention. "Salve, Callista," he said, locks of his graying blond hair falling over his eyes as he bowed his head. He tossed them back and looked her over thoroughly, then stared directly at her with pale-blue eyes.

She stared back and smiled, just a little. A challenge from such a young one was more amusing than annoying. "Salve, Rubio," she said in return. "You are a native of this land?" she asked, though it was obvious enough from his accent, and from his appearance. The tribes in Hispania were part of the Celtic people, and Celts were known for their height and their manes of light-colored hair. She had lived among them several times, since they matched her own physical appearance, but their tradition of taking heads made her uncomfortable, and she never stayed long.

"Yes," he said. "From the mountains in the north."

"Rubio and I have been together since last summer," Tak-Ne said. "He's learning very fast."

He needed to. Immortals might live forever, but they had no time to waste in learning to play the Game. She nodded again and smiled at Rubio pleasantly.

He nodded back, then turned to his teacher. "We were going to spar after the mid-day meal."

"Tomorrow," Tak-Ne said, with casual wave of his hand. "Callista has just arrived." He bowed slightly, then offered his arm to her.

Cassandra smiled and took it, then they walked together into the dining room. Rubio did not follow.

That night in bed, after Cassandra and Tak-Ne had gotten reacquainted, Cassandra asked him about his new student.

"I bought him from another Immortal, a Roman named Tarcinus." Tak-Ne shook his head in disgust. "He kept Rubio as a slave, and crucified him whenever Rubio tried to escape. Tarcinus pretended he was a god, bringing Rubio back to life. He never even told Rubio what he was."

"Hardly uncommon," Cassandra said, her voice calm and remote as she adjusted the wool blanket over her shoulders. "My first master killed me many times, and he never told me anything about immortality. It's easier to control people when they're ignorant, when they think you're a god."

She had spoken of her first master only that one time before, and Tak-Ne sensed the pain behind her enforced control now and her long silence over the past seventy years. Her master had been the first man ever to touch her, and he had probably been the first to kill her as well. Tak-Ne pulled Cassandra closer to him and held her, and she nestled against him, accepting the comfort he offered. Tak-Ne had been a slave many times, and he had kept slaves of his own. He knew how slaves were broken, how they were controlled.

Brutality at the beginning broke a slave's spirit, and most masters stopped there, relying on pain and fear to keep control. But pleasure and affection were much more effective; bonds of love were stronger than any chains. The master need only offer comfort, present himself as a safe haven in an ugly life, pretend to care. It might take a few months or a few years, but eventually the slave would respond, becoming obedient and compliant, even eager to please.

Cassandra had responded thus to her first master, Tak-Ne knew, tried to "please him well." That man should have been her teacher, her guide. Instead, he had kept her ignorant of immortality, broken her spirit by raping and killing her repeatedly, then offered her pretended affection. She had been young and inexperienced, and she had believed him. She had loved and trusted her master, even worshiped him as a god. Then he had abandoned her.

Tak-Ne kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her. No wonder Cassandra found it difficult to trust. If he ever found the cold-blooded murdering swine who had brutalized her so, he would do more than just take his head. "What's his name?"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "He's dead."

"Did you take his head?"

"No," she answered. "One of his students did. He hadn't told that one the truth about immortality, either."

"Good," Tak-Ne said with grim satisfaction. "Then neither he nor Tarcinus will be keeping any more Immortals ignorant." He had taken the Roman's head while Rubio had watched. It had been a good first lesson for the lad.

Cassandra lifted her head from the curve of his shoulder to look at him. "I know you are an excellent teacher for Rubio." She smiled, a mischievous, teasing grin that made her eyes dance in the flickers of light from the small oil lamp on the table. "I know you can be an excellent teacher for me, too."

"Can I?" he asked, grinning in return, ready to stop this talk of students and former masters.

"It is important to practice everyday," she said seriously. "And I fear that you and I have woefully neglected our duties."

"Duty calls," he agreed, then applied himself eagerly to the task. Tak-Ne had always been a conscientious man.

A few days later, as the petals of the lemon blossoms floated down slowly in the hot still air, Cassandra watched while student and teacher sparred in the courtyard. Tak-Ne was better, of course, but Rubio knew the basics and was eager to learn more. Too eager.

The two men joined her in the shade of the colonnade, for the sun was fierce. "You are doing well, Rubio," Tak-Ne said to his student, and the young Immortal beamed. They discussed the finer points of the lesson while Cassandra listened and embroidered a new gown, then Tak-Ne suggested, "You should spar with Callista soon."

"Her?" Rubio exclaimed, not even glancing at her. "But, she's -"

"A woman," Cassandra finished for him acidly, then fixed Tak-Ne with a steady gaze. He had no right to suggest such a thing without asking her first.

"It would be good practice," Tak-Ne said, as he reached for one of the small pastries stuffed with raisins and almond paste. Then he leaned back in his chair and added, "For both of you."

Her gaze became a glare, but Tak-Ne ignored it - and her - for Rubio was talking again.

"Are there many female Immortals?"

"A few," Tak-Ne said. "They usually don't last long."

Cassandra took another stitch in her sewing and said nothing. Most Immortals didn't last long, male or female. Rubio probably wouldn't, either. He was too ready to fight, especially for a man of his physical age.

Tak-Ne added, "Callista is one of the oldest female Immortals I've met."

Rubio looked at her now, curious - even avid. Cassandra gave him her most bland meaningless smile, then turned to Tak-Ne, still smiling, even though she was seething inside. Tak-Ne had no right to tell his student how old she was! But she should not correct him in front of his student, or show her anger. Cassandra suggested smoothly, "Lucius, I was hoping we could go riding today?" He glanced at his student, so Cassandra quickly changed her smile to a more seductive one and added, "To the river."

Tak-Ne grinned, for they had spent a pleasant afternoon by the river the day before. "Indeed. I think that's enough swordwork for today, don't you, Rubio?"

Rubio stood, bowed stiffly, and left. Cassandra watched him walk away.

At the river, she waited until she and Tak-Ne had gone swimming and enjoyed themselves on the river bank before she spoke of her concerns.

Tak-Ne did not share them. "Rubio is my student, Cassandra, and he's a good man."

"Have you never had a student turn on you?"

"No," he said, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand to look at her intently. "But it sounds as if you have."

Cassandra did not respond to that. "You've told him of the Game and the Prize. Do you think he doesn't want to win it? At any cost?"

"Rubio wouldn't come after me."

"Maybe not now," she admitted, though she knew Rubio would come after her easily enough, if he thought he could win. "Maybe not a hundred years from now. But there can be Only One."

"Eventually, yes," he agreed, sitting up and folding his arms around his knees. "But the Gathering may be centuries away. We can't live our entire lives distrusting everyone."

Cassandra had lived almost her entire life that way, and with good reason.

During the evening meal, Rubio and Tak-Ne discussed siege weapons and the defense of cities. Cassandra had lived in many besieged cities - she had died in them, too - but the men did not ask her for her opinion, did not even speak to her.

Tak-Ne was most attentive in bed that night, but he did not want to talk to her then, either. When she woke the next morning, she was not surprised to see that he had already left to go spar with Rubio. Cassandra knew the demands of teaching a new Immortal. The bond between teacher and student was much like the bond between brothers, and she had no place in it. Cassandra packed her things.

When Tak-Ne returned, he asked in surprise, "You're leaving?"

Had he thought she would stay simply to service him in bed while he spent the rest of his time with his student? But she should not be jealous, and she should not be angry. "Your student needs all of your attention now," she told him. "Rubio should not have to share you."

Tak-Ne nodded slowly. "It is best." He smiled at her and suggested, "I will be done in a decade or two. Should we plan to meet?"

Cassandra put aside her irritation with him, remembering the happy times they had had. "Yes, we should. Aqua Sulis in twenty years?"

"I haven't been to Britain in some time," he said. "That would be good."

"Travel may not be easy, Tak-Ne. The world is changing again."

"The edges of the Empire are crumbling," he agreed, leaning back in his chair. "The legions are pulling back. In a century, maybe less, the tribes will take over again." He drank from his goblet and shrugged. "Well, it was their land to begin with."

"Yes," she said, remembering the way it used to be, the way it would never be again. "How many cultures have you seen fall?"

"Egypt, once or twice. Babylon, of course. The Greeks had their time, then the Persians, then Alexander. Rome has lasted longer than I thought she would." He swatted away a passing fly. "And you?"

"Those you mentioned, and earlier ones: Troy, Phoenicia, Carthage, the Hebrews. Others that don't even have names anymore." Her own people were gone forever, vanished beneath the shifting sands. She couldn't even remember the language anymore, only snatches of a lullaby, fleeting glimpses of her father's face. It was all gone.

Time to start again, to build again. Time to go somewhere new. "We should say farewell, Tak-Ne, though we will meet again - someday."

"You said that last time, and you were right." He looked at her curiously. "Do you tell the future, Cassandra? Are a prophetess, like your namesake in Troy?"

"I see things," she admitted reluctantly, "in dreams. In the fire, sometimes. But I can change nothing, and sometimes, what I think I see is not what happens."

"That's always the way of prophecies, is it not?" he asked, seemingly unconcerned. Then his eyes darkened, serious and intent, and he leaned forward to take her hands in his. "I'm glad we've had this time together, Cassandra."

"Yes," she said fiercely, holding tight to his hands. "So am I. You've been ... very good for me, in many ways." She kissed him gently on the lips, a ceremonial farewell. "I will miss you, Tak-Ne, but we will see each other again."

"I'll look for you," he said, and pressed his lips to her forehead in a benediction, and a promise.

Continued in Part 3: Steel