He blinked. She had surprised him. “When you were born, I promised Anne that I would look after you. I had been looking for you and your father for eight years, ever since you disappeared. I knew you were in danger.” He looked away to the verge where road and forest met and intertwined. When he frowned, lines creased his forehead, and she could see how old he truly was; she had seen only a handful of people whom she supposed to be older than Wolfhere, and certainly none of them had been as hale and vigorous. What magic made him so strong although he was so old? Or was it magic at all but rather the kiss of Lady Fortune, who for her own fickle reasons blessed some with vigor while inflicting feebleness upon others? “Had I found you earlier,” he continued, still not looking at her, “Bernard would not have died.”
“You could have protected us?” He had not seen Da’s body or the two arrows stuck uselessly in the wall.
“Only Our Lady and Lord see all that has happened and all that will happen.” A jay cried harshly and fluttered away from the path, its rump a flash of white among dense green. He turned his gaze away from his contemplation of a riot of flowering brambles that twined along the roadside, and with that pale keen gaze regarded her again. “What of you, Liath? Have you been well? You seem stronger.”
o;Wolfhere!”
He laughed and, when he came close enough, called to her. “I’ll thank you not to look quite so intimidating with that arrow aimed at my heart.”
Startled, she lowered the bow. “Wolfhere!” she repeated, too dumbfounded to say anything else.
“I had hoped to catch you before nightfall.” He reined in beside her. “No one likes to pass through the forest alone.” He rode a surly-looking gelding. Her own mare, sensing trouble, gave a nip to the gelding’s hindquarters to let it know at once which of them took precedence.
“You’ve ridden all the way from Darre,” she said stupidly, still too amazed to think.
“That I have,” he agreed mildly. He pressed his gelding forward into a walk and Liath rode beside him.
“It took Hanna months to track down the king, and it’s only the twenty-fifth day of Quadrii.”
“That it is, the feast day of St. Placidana, she who brought the Circle of Unities to the goblinkin of the Harenz Mountains.” She saw immediately that he was trying not to smile.
“But you know perfectly well that no passes over the Alfar Mountains are clear until early summer. How did you get to Weraushausen so quickly?”
He slanted a glance at her, eyes serious, mouth quirking up. “I knew where the king was.”
“You looked for him through fire.”
“So I did. It was a mild winter, and I made my way across the Julier Pass earlier than I had hoped. I watched through fire when I could. I know Wendar well, Liath. I followed the king’s progress with that vision and saw where they were bound. Once I saw that King Henry had left the children of the schola at Werauschausen, I knew he would have to return by that way or at the least send a message by one of his Eagles, who would know what route he planned to take. I had hoped it might be you.”
How much had he seen of her? Did he know Hugh was tormenting her again? Had he seen her burn down the palace at Augensburg, or fight the lost shades in the forest east of Laar, or kill Bloodheart? Had he heard Sanglant’s words to her? Had he seen her cross through the gateway of burning stone?
As if he read her thoughts in her expression, he spoke again. “Although I couldn’t be sure you still rode with the king’s progress and not with Princess Theophanu or on some other errand. You are difficult to vision through fire, Liath. It’s as if there’s a haze about you, concealing you. I suppose Bernard laid some kind of spell over you to hide you. I’m surprised the effect has survived so long after his death.”
Like a challenge, the words seemed to hang in the air between them. They rode some paces in silence while in the branches above the purring coo of turtledoves serenaded them and was left behind.
“You strike straight to heart of the matter, and at once, do you not?”
“Alas, I’m not usually accused of such a weakness.” His tone was dry and his smile brief. “To what do you refer, my child?”
She laughed, light-headed, a little dizzy. “I don’t trust you, Wolfhere. Maybe I never will. But I’m grateful to you for saving me at Heart’s Rest. And I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
This time the smile sparked in his eyes, a pale flicker in gray.
She did not wait for his answer but went on, determined to bring it all to light immediately. “Why were you looking for me? Why did you save me at Heart’s Rest?”
He blinked. She had surprised him. “When you were born, I promised Anne that I would look after you. I had been looking for you and your father for eight years, ever since you disappeared. I knew you were in danger.” He looked away to the verge where road and forest met and intertwined. When he frowned, lines creased his forehead, and she could see how old he truly was; she had seen only a handful of people whom she supposed to be older than Wolfhere, and certainly none of them had been as hale and vigorous. What magic made him so strong although he was so old? Or was it magic at all but rather the kiss of Lady Fortune, who for her own fickle reasons blessed some with vigor while inflicting feebleness upon others? “Had I found you earlier,” he continued, still not looking at her, “Bernard would not have died.”
“You could have protected us?” He had not seen Da’s body or the two arrows stuck uselessly in the wall.
“Only Our Lady and Lord see all that has happened and all that will happen.” A jay cried harshly and fluttered away from the path, its rump a flash of white among dense green. He turned his gaze away from his contemplation of a riot of flowering brambles that twined along the roadside, and with that pale keen gaze regarded her again. “What of you, Liath? Have you been well? You seem stronger.”
Did he understand the fire she held within her, which Da had tried to protect her from? She didn’t want him to see its existence, her knowledge of its existence, as if some change in her might betray it to his penetrating gaze; she was sure he watched her so keenly to see what she might unwittingly reveal. Da always said there were two ways to hide: to scuttle from shadow to shadow, or to talk in plain sight on a busy road at midday. “Talk too much about nothing, or be silent about everything,” he would say, but Wolfhere couldn’t be misled by babble, and she no longer dared hide behind silence. Once she had thought silence would shield her. Now she knew that ignorance was more dangerous than knowledge.
“I was afraid to ask you questions before,” she said finally, not without a catch in her voice. “Even though I wanted to know about Da and about my mother. I was afraid you would make me tell you things. That you were one of the ones hunting us. But I know you were one of the ones hunting us.”
“I would not have phrased it so: ‘hunting’ you.”
“Aren’t you named for the wolf. Doesn’t the wolf hunt?”