Free Burning Shadows by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

the courier. “I left hours before the Huns arrived, not long after the scouts brought their report from Ebussa, which was afire when Attila broke off their assault. Another six couriers were dispatched when I was, shortly after the attack began. Those of us sent out were given this mission because we can understand some of the Hunnic speech, and enough Gothic and Greek and other languages to comprehend most of what we hear when we stop to remount, or to deliver our messages.” He patted the satchel secured to his belt. “This is where I have the dispatch for you. It tells you much the same things that I have, but it has details and information I did not have the time to learn, since speed has been essential. You may have to fight as soon as tomorrow, so I have traveled as fast as my horse would let me.”
“You have done well,” said Sanctu-Germainios, and was about to go on when the courier interrupted.
“Coming here, I passed a group of foreigners,” the courier announced. “About thirty of them, with a flock of goats and a dozen carts coming, they said, from the north side of the Pontus Euxinus … I believe is what they said. Their language was unknown to me and only two had any command of Byzantine speech; they may have said the south side, but their location would make little sense if … Their village was destroyed by Huns and they are hoping to find a haven near Constantinople, where they might be safe, or so their leader claimed, and if I understood him correctly. They might have been Sarmatae, but I can’t be certain. There will be more of them coming this way.”
“This is a strange direction to take to get to Constantinople. Why should they climb the Carpathians when they might as readily have continued along the shore of the Pontus Euxinus.” said Sanctu-Germainios . In his black-silk pallium, black femoralia, and short, black Gothic boots, he was like a shadow in the room, which his reserved manner emphasized.
“They admitted as much; they were not on the road they planned to follow. They hadn’t wanted to scale the mountains. But there has been fighting along the edge of the sea, and they are not prepared to endure pitched battles, so they have gone around the combat and—” The courier fussed with his red, identifying shoulder-sash. “They may be bound for this town, or some other settlement in this region; they didn’t appear to have a specific destination in mind. It would be unfortunate if they should lead the Huns here. If the Huns come upon them before this town is in sight, that may delay their arrival here.”
“At the cost of those foreigners,” said Sanctu-Germainios soberly.
“That’s useful of the foreigners,” Mangueinic remarked with a jovial cynicism. “It’s better that they cause the Huns distraction than that we have to decide if we can offer any shelter to them.”
Sanctu-Germainios felt disheartened to hear such a callous remark, but stopped himself from making the outburst that sparked within him, knowing that it was as much fear as indifference speaking in Mangueinic; he addressed the courier. “If you will give us your dispatch, you may go to the kitchen; my cooks will give you a meal and wine. When you have eaten, you may go to the bath-house, or to bed, as you think best. Unless you are to ride on, in which case, I will provide you a fresh horse.” He nodded to Mangueinic while the courier pulled out the parchment, its author’s name, location, and office written in a cobbled version of Latin and Greek; he offered it to the master of the Watch.
“I thank you for the horse and the meal, but I will have to continue on until sunset.” He slapped at his paragaudion, coughing a little as dust sprayed from it. “Anything would be better than what I’ve been eating.”
“Then I will have a new horse saddled for you; it will be waiting when you finish your meal.” He turned to Mangueinic. “Is there anything you want to ask this brave man before he restores