“When Nicole had said that to Gaius Calidius Severus, she’d had only an intellectual understanding of what it meant. Over the next month or two, as summer passed into autumn, as sunlight softened and morning mists from the Danube began filling the streets of Carnuntum with fog, she felt the meaning of hard times in her belly as well as her head. In the early days of the pestilence, hardly an hour seemed to go by without the shrieking and moaning of professional mourners, as funeral processions m...ade their somber way out of the city and toward the burial ground. After a while, however, the sounds of formal lamentation, almost as formal as the Mass, began to diminish. Ofanius Valens explained that to Nicole when he stopped by for breakfast one morning. “From what I hear,” he said, “so many of the mourners are dead, the rest can’t come close to keeping up with all the funerals.” “That’s horrible,” Nicole said. “It’s not good,” he conceded, taking an unenthusiastic mouthful of bread and oil.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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