into your skin. Your clothes were only rags. I've tended many hurts, but you taxed my skill!"
"Yes..." The woman captured a fragment of memory, of fire and a door silhouetted against the flames. "There was something burning... a house?"
Vitellix made a sharp, barking sound, neither laughter nor disgust.
"Everything burned, lass. That bridge was within the devastation of Vesuvius. Do you remember where you were before you were injured?"
The woman stared back at him with wide eyes. For a moment there was a look on her face, a moment of comprehension, then her eyes clouded and she shook her head. "No... What happened to the mountain?"
Vitellix's face turned grim and he looked away. In his hands, the towel twisted as he clenched his fists. "I have seen Vesuvius many times in our travels. We often camped on its wooded flank, buying our dinner from the farmers or vintners. The mountain slopes were rich—the finest wines, the richest cheese, the fattest calf—all came from the bounty of Vesuvius. There were fine cities on its shoulders, too. Pompeii, Herculaneum, Baiae."
The man's face paled as memory took hold.
"A week ago, now, in the night, the mountain shook off its slumber and woke. We were miles away to the south, camped on the road coming up from Croton. It was an odd night of rushing wind and clouds, yet there was no rain. Thunder shook the air and lightning spiked from cloud to cloud. A storm gathered on the height, crowning the mountain with a diadem of cold fire.
"I climbed onto the roof of the wagon. I could see over the trees of the orchard lining the road. The mountain was still and dark, silhouetted against the clouds. Then... then there was a light, just a spark on the summit. It seemed that the thunderheads gathered, lighting the upper slopes with the flicker of lightning. Then the glow began, a fierce red light, radiating from the very top."
The woman felt a creeping chill, even under the heavy blankets.
"Then there was a flash, a brilliant light. It lit the olive trees and shone in my face like the sun rising. I turned away and then there was a sound, like a great shout that rushed over us. Horrible wind followed and it threw me off the roof of the wagon, but I landed square."
Vitellix's voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper.
"Then ruddy, red fire filled the sky. The glow rushed down the mountainside, faster than a galloping horse. Burning stones fell hissing from the sky and the air turned foul. We hid beneath a bridge, there in the countryside above Nuceria, for three days. Sometimes the earth shook like a wet dog, heaving and bucking. Praise Lugh, the bridge did not fall around our ears!"
He sighed and picked up the towel again.
"When the rain of fire stopped, we moved north again, along the highway. Everything was covered with ash. It falls like snow, though it has slacked off. Until we found you, we thought sure that only the dead and ghosts lived under the shadow of the mountain."
The woman coughed, feeling a harsh, grating pain in her lungs.
"Did you see..." She stopped, took a breath and then said: "Did you see where I might have come from? Was there a house, a town, anything?"
Vitellix shook his head slowly. "If there was, lass, it is gone now. All the land around Vesuvius is dead. I'm sorry, but if your family lay nearby, we could not find them."
CHAPTER FOUR
The Temple of Asklepius, Below Pergamon
A gleam of pale blue light caught the priest's eye. Tarsus turned, hands clasped on his staff of office. Something flickered and burned at the center of the plaza, casting long shadows on the arches and windows of the surrounding buildings. The stoutly built priest frowned. Sometimes criminals and outcasts tried to creep into the sacred precincts and steal from the pilgrims sleeping on the grounds. He hefted his staff, taking confidence from the weighty bronze snake coiled around its length.
Determined, he strode forward through cool, damp air filled with the quiet echo of running