gather the poor to them and give them bread. Nothing can really kill your city. Alaric is dead, as if he succumbed to a curse for what he did, and his army long gone."
Was I comforted by this? I don't know. I couldn't allow myself to wake. I could not open my eyes. I wanted only to lie where I was and be alone.
They went away. There was nothing more for them to do. And then it seemed that they came at other times, that I would see them by the light of a lamp and that they would talk to me, but it was dreamlike and did not matter at all.
Surely months passed, and then years. I felt light in all my limbs and only the Mind Gift seemed to have strength.
A vision took hold of me. I saw myself lying in the arms of a woman, a beautiful Egyptian woman with black hair. It was Akasha, this woman, and she comforted me, she told me to sleep, and that nothing could hurt me, not even the thirst, because I had drunk her blood. I was not like other blood drinkers. I could starve and then rise again. I would not become fatally weak.
We were in a splendid chamber with silk hangings. We lay on a bed, draped with silk so fine I could see through it. I could see golden columns with lotus leaves at their crowns. I could feel the soft cushions beneath me. But above all I could feel my comforter who held me firmly and warmly and told me to sleep.
After a very long while I rose and went out into the garden and saw that, yes, it was the garden I had painted, only it had been perfected, and I turned round, trying to see the dancing nymphs only they were too quick for me. They were gone before I could see them, and in the distance the singing was too soft for me to hear.
I dreamed of colors. I wanted the pots of paint before me, the pure colors so that I could make the garden come alive.
Yes, sleep.
At last a divine blackness settled over my mind and no thoughts whatsoever could penetrate. I knew that Akasha still held me because I could feel her arms around me and feel her lips against my cheek. That was all I knew.
And the years passed.
The years passed.
Quite suddenly my eyes opened.
A great sense of alarm came over me, giving me to know that I was a living being with a head and arms and legs. I didn't move, but I stared up into the darkness, and then I heard the sound of sharp footfalls, and a light blinded me for a moment.
A voice spoke. It was Avicus.
"Marius, come with us," he said.
I tried to rise from the stone floor but I couldn't do it. I couldn't lift my arms.
Be still, I told myself and think on this matter. Think on what has happened.
In the lamplight, Avicus stood before me once more holding the small flickering bronze lamp. He was dressed in a rich double tunic with an overshirt, rather like a soldier, and the trousers of the Goths.
Mael stood beside him, finely dressed in similar garments, his blond hair swept back and cleanly combed, and all malice was gone from Mael's face.
"We're leaving, Marius," said Mael, his eyes wide and generous. "Come with us. Stop this sleep of the dead and come."
Avicus came down on one knee and put the light behind me so it wouldn't hurt my eyes any longer.
"Marius, we're going to Constantinople. We have our own ship for this journey, our own galley slaves to row it, our own pilot, and well-paid attendants who will not question our nocturnal disposition. You must come with us. There is no reason to remain."
"We must go," said Mael. "Do you know how long you've lain here?"
"Half a century," I said in a small whisper, "and during that time Rome has been laid waste again."
Avicus shook his head. "Far longer than that, old friend," he said, "I can't tell you how many times we've tried to wake you. Marius, the Western Empire is truly no more."
"Come with us to Constantinople," said Mael. "She is the richest city in the world."
"Take my blood," said Avicus and he moved to bite into his wrist to give me to drink. "We can't leave you behind."
"No," I said. "Let me rise of my own accord." I wondered if they could