“Blocked by what?” she asked.
He groaned and covered his eyes.
“Go on,” said the captain. “You must speak, because you were the one who saw it.”
“An army, Your Highness.”
A murmur of alarm passed through the court, but Theophanu called for quiet. “Have Conrad and Sabella flanked us? We’ve seen no movement in their encampment.”
“This army isn’t human, Your Highness. They’re the northlanders, what were once used to raid the northern coast years back. It’s an army of Eika, Your Highness.”
o;So she lived!”
“You know the tale?”
“We heard it. It was thought she was dead.”
“She is dead now, alas, murdered by a poisoned arrow loosed out of the night. But that comes later in the tale, my lady. Bertha died in Avaria, not in the south where we all thought we would die.”
“Go on.”
“We joined together—clerics and soldiers—and traveled north as well as we could. We did well, gathering goats and chickens to feed us and a few dogs to keep watch. We thought we had come home safely, but after we reached Wendar, we were set upon twice by masked warriors, creatures like nothing we have seen before. Liath said they are Ashioi.”
Now Theophanu was piqued, but Hanna could not tell if she were overjoyed, or furious. “Liath? You have seen Liathano? She is with you?”
“The king will reward you well for returning her to him,” said a captain among the company, and there was nervous laughter.
She could not get the words out. Better to change the subject. “Princess Sapientia rides with us, but she is much changed.”
Theophanu shifted ground easily. “‘Changed?’ I pray you, speak bluntly.”
“It’s as if she does not even know her own name.”
“She’s lost her wits,” said her sister. “Is that what you mean?”
Hanna nodded, so uncomfortable that she downed the remainder of the cup of wine, just to do something.
Theophanu looked neither pleased nor sorrowing. She merely nodded, as if hearing that the laundry had been taken down because it was dry. “What of Liathano?”
“Lost,” said Hanna, and choked.
There was a dead, awful silence, and a voice came out of the crowd and said, in the manner of a man who is hard of hearing and must have each comment repeated, “Is she dead?”
“Lost,” Hanna repeated, more strongly. “Mother Scholastica comes on the road with us, riding with Princess Sapientia.”
“Henry’s sister, supporting Henry’s eldest legitimate child.” Theophanu nodded. “Well, that does not surprise me, that my aunt would choose to champion her long after the rest of us have accepted that she is unfit to rule. Is that all?”
“Not by any measure is that all. It is not sure which faction Mother Scholastica supports.”
“Are you suggesting that my aunt supports Conrad?”
Hanna found herself hoarse, and coughing did not ease her.
“Bring the Eagle more wine,” said Theophanu, but her voice was as cold as the winter wind, not warm and sympathetic. Not as Prince Sanglant would have been, treating each least servant under his rule as though that individual was, for a moment, the most important person in the world. Theophanu was all business. In that, she reminded Hanna of Lady Eudokia.
“I will sit here until you have told it all, Eagle. Conrad and Sabella stand before us, and my aunt creeps up behind. What other knives wait to stab us, I cannot yet see. I must know what to expect before my Aunt Scholastica rides in with God—and Sapientia—to wield over us as a whip. I must hear it all. From the beginning. Take your time.”
Hanna had not gotten further than recounting the earthquake in Darre when the door opened and a messenger ran in, a young man with cheeks flushed and eyes flared in genuine fear. A captain strode at his heels. Seeing them, Theophanu stood as the lad dropped to his knees before her.