Dark of the Sun by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

Author:Chelsea Quinn Yarbro [Yarbro, Chelsea Quinn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fiction, Fantasy, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯), Horror, vampires, Historical, Krakatoa (Indonesia), Transylvania (Romania), Volcanic Eruptions
ISBN: 9780765311030
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2004-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Text of a letter from Atta Olivia Clemens in Bononia on the Via Aemilia in Italy to Ragoczy Sanct’ Germain Franciscus in Yang-Chau, written in Imperial Latin and filed as unreadable when delivered four years later.

To my most-dear, most-aggravating friend, Ragoczy Sanct’ Germain Franciscus on the far side of the world, the greetings of Olivia on this the thirteenth day of May in the 1,289th Year of the City, or the 536th Pope’s Year, since so many monks are keeping records now. I have only a single sheet of parchment and so must be more terse than I would like to be.

As you see, I have left Lago Comus and am now bound for Roma, and a return to my estate, as well as the direct care of yours. The entire Comus region has been mired in cold, and the sun has been unable to bring enough warmth to the earth to end the chill. All of last year we had frost, and that, while less consistent this spring, is still enough to cause profound worry amongst the farmers and peasants working the land. I have granted access to the Lago Comus property to the local growers and forgiven them their rents-in-kind for the next five years. I am sure you will not object to such measures, for if you were here, you could see for yourself what a dreadful hardship this cold has been. It has been worse to the north of the Alps, for they say that they are going to have another year with almost no harvest, and they also say the boars and aurochs are dying in the forests, for want of food, so only the vultures and the wolves have fared well.

When last spring was so disappointing, I bred only a few of my better brood mares, and now I am glad that I did, for only three foals have survived beyond their sixth week, and they are not as hearty as I would like. I am bringing them south with me, and I am hoping that in the slightly warmer and brighter environs of Roma, I will be able to save at least one of them, for I know another hard summer will be more than these foals can deal with, young as they are. I have taken to feeding them raisins from the vines we could not get wine from last autumn, and that seems to have a little benefit, as do the dried apples you had stored at the villa’s stables. We have been able to travel at twelve thousand paces a day—hardly any speed at all compared to the days of my breathing youth, when messengers could cover eighty-five thousand paces a day, and troops could march for twenty-one thousand paces a day. Still, given the weather and the poor state of the roads, twelve thousand paces is acceptable, or so Niklos informs me. He is going ahead to Roma to make my estate ready, and to see to yours. I

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