“So I am,” said the lad, not one bit surprised at being recognized. A noble youth out of a house as important as Villam’s expected to be known. “We crawled in here to explore but must have fallen asleep. The rest of my companions are still asleep. I could only wake up Jonas. He’s trying to get the others awake. I don’t know where this chamber came from!” He gestured toward the high ceiling, and the four sleeping men. “It wasn’t here when we explored under the tumuli yesterday. How did you get here?”
The earth shook once again. The pulse of the light had begun to shift in pitch until Anna could actually hear a melodic rise and fall shot through with an unearthly harmony. The temperature was beginning to rise.
“I want to get out of here,” said Blessing. “Something very very bad is about to happen.” She turned on Berthold. He stood a head taller than she did, although he wasn’t as tall as her father. “Help me wake them up!”
Berthold’s expression twisted, eyes opening in mock horror, mouth opening to an “o” of pretend fear. “Of course, my lady!” He spoiled the moment by laughing again. “Who made you regnant?”
She stamped her foot. “My father is Prince Sanglant. I am the great granddaughter of the Emperor Taillefer. You have to do what I tell you to do!”
He snorted with amusement, glanced at Anna to estimate her station and importance, and nodded at Brother Heribert. “Who are you, Brother?”
“I am called Brother Heribert. I am a cleric in Prince Sanglant’s schola.”
“Is it true this brat is Prince Sanglant’s daughter?”
“I’m not a brat!”
“She is indeed, my lord.”
“How can she be the great granddaughter of Emperor Taillefer? Henry’s forebears have no connection to that noble house.”
Heribert hesitated just long enough for Berthold to go on, impatient as his thoughts skipped ahead.
“Prince Sanglant has a schola? How can he? He’s the captain of the King’s Dragons. I didn’t even know he had a daughter this old, but I suppose it’s no surprise given what everyone says about him and women. Heh! I wonder what Waltharia will have to say about that! She thought she walked that road first!”
“What road?” demanded Blessing.
Heribert flung up a hand as if to say, “stop.” “I pray you, Lord Berthold. We must untangle these lineages later. Princess Blessing is right. We’d best flee.” He wiped sweat from his brow. “I don’t like being trapped in here.”
“Nor do I,” admitted the youth, looking around. “Although it is the most amazing thing! Who could have dug such caverns? You should see the treasure back there! Golden helms and mounds of emeralds and garnets! Jeweled belts. Necklaces. I told them not to pick anything up, but they would cram their sleeves—all but Jonas, he’s the only one who listens to me—”
too, felt a stiffening in the air, a tension in the earth, like the breath of a huge monster about to lunge out of darkness onto its hapless prey.
“Come quickly!” Blessing’s voice pierced the silence, although there was no sign of her in the chamber. “No! This way! You’re so slow! I said this way!”
“What a brat!” said a second voice, laughing.
“I am not a brat! I’m not!”
“You are!”
“I’m not!”
Blessing’s companion laughed merrily, and before Anna or Heribert could react two figures trotted into the cavern, the smaller grasping the larger by his wrist. Blessing dropped her grip and clapped her hands to crow in triumph.
“Look what I found, Brother Heribert! And not just that, but a pile of treasure!”
The earth shook violently. The net of blue fire sparked and dazzled, and began to pulse.
“Lord have mercy,” said Heribert, staring at Blessing, who looked painfully thin but otherwise emphatically alive and vital. Anna didn’t know whether to be giddy with joy or annoyed that Blessing after all hadn’t changed one bit and probably hadn’t a thought to spare for the sacrifice her attendants had made so willingly for her.
“I’m Berthold,” said the youth, a nice-looking boy most likely a little younger than Anna, fifteen or sixteen or so. He wore a handsome pale blue tunic of an excellent weave trimmed with yellow embroidery, a hip-length cape lined with pale fox fur, and soft leather boots bound up with laces. He held calfskin gloves casually in one hand, and at his waist rode a sword in a richly tooled sheath bearing the mark of the silver tree.
“Lord have mercy,” repeated Heribert, shifting his stunned gaze away from Blessing. “You must be Villam’s son.”
“So I am,” said the lad, not one bit surprised at being recognized. A noble youth out of a house as important as Villam’s expected to be known. “We crawled in here to explore but must have fallen asleep. The rest of my companions are still asleep. I could only wake up Jonas. He’s trying to get the others awake. I don’t know where this chamber came from!” He gestured toward the high ceiling, and the four sleeping men. “It wasn’t here when we explored under the tumuli yesterday. How did you get here?”
The earth shook once again. The pulse of the light had begun to shift in pitch until Anna could actually hear a melodic rise and fall shot through with an unearthly harmony. The temperature was beginning to rise.