“He loved his daughter too well. He let her know too much too young. Ai, God, I fear she did not begin this way but that the promise of power was too much for her. The first step on such a journey may be made with the best of intentions.” He concealed his face with a hand. His shoulders shuddered.
The king spun, hand still clenched, and strode back to his throne. There he sat.
“Sisters and Brothers,” said Constance to the assembled council, “have you any other questions you wish to ask, or is it time now to confer on our judgment?”
They had no further questions.
“We must pray,” said Constance. “Clear the hall. Our judgment will come when God make the truth manifest to us.
The speed with which two of Judith’s burliest soldiers caught Ivar by the arms and led him out took his breath away. They hustled him out of the hall and through the biscop’s palace to the suite where the margrave had taken up residence.
She came in with her attendants, her husband, and her disgraced son at her heels, and the first thing she did was to hit Ivar so hard across the face that he reeled back, but only into the hard grasp of his escorts. At a sign from her, they beat him, and when he dropped to the floor whimpering and crying and begging for mercy, they kicked him in the stomach and the shoulders and trod on his hands until he could only bleat like a wounded animal.
After a while they stopped.
“How dare you speak out of turn, you who have eaten at my table and traveled in my train?” She towered over him in a cold rage, drew her boot back to kick.
“Mother.” Hugh knelt beside Ivar, shielding him with his own body. “The poor boy couldn’t help himself. I saw the way she wrapped her spells around him—”
“I’ll hear no more from you! Go and pray with just humility, which is all you’re fit for!”
He didn’t move. “He’s been beaten enough. He won’t forget this lesson.”
“Hush! I’m sick to death of your mewling, Hugh. It was done well, and I have no doubt the girl bewitched you in an unseemly way, but don’t think that I haven’t kept clear in my mind the incident in Zeitsenburg all this time. But you remain my son, and I will protect you as long as you obey me. I have my doubts as to how God would judge the matter, but I know perfectly well that the king hates the girl for stealing his son and in any case he knows how much he needs my support. The council knows well enough which way the wind is blowing.”
“They’ll condemn Liath to please the king?” gasped Ivar.
“Put him in the stables!” she said with disgust.
They hauled him away, and since he could barely walk, they dragged him along without caring that his shins bruised on steps and his head banged into corners. He was dizzy, dazed, and weeping when they dumped him onto a pile of straw and slammed shut a stall door. There he lay, stunned and aching, for the longest time.
He got very thirsty after a while. His face had swollen, and it was hard to see, or maybe that was twilight sinking onto the earth. His heart ached as much as his body. Why had Liath deserted him?
But he must not think of her. He must remember Tallia’s preaching, for she was the only one who had stayed. The others could not see the truth because they were blind, their sight had clouded just as he could barely see because of his injuries. That was the life granted to humankind, to be battered and bruised and left to rot in the stink hole of earth. Only in the sacrifice and redemption could salvation be found.
A light swam into his vision, bobbed there. He heard whispers, a giggle, the shuffling of feet down to the other end of the stables, and painfully he got to his knees just as the stall door was unfastened and flung open.
Was it an angel, gleaming in the soft light of a candle?
“Ivar!” It was only Baldwin, sagging forward to embrace him, but even that embrace hurt and he yelped in pain. “Dear God,” swore Baldwin. He soothed Ivar’s face and hands with a cool cloth. “Come, come, my heart. We haven’t much time. We bought the whore for the night, but I don’t think the sentry will stay away from his duty for too long even for that.” He got an arm around Ivar’s waist and grunted, tugging Ivar to his feet. The movement made Ivar sneeze, and the jolt made him hurt everywhere. His left knee throbbed. His right hand felt broken.
“Come on,” said Baldwin impatiently.
“Where are we going?” He could barely get the words out of his throat. Pain had lodged in his belly and wouldn’t go away.
“Hush.” Baldwin brushed his hair with his lips. “You just don’t understand how much I love you, Ivar.”
Outside, the night wind hit hard and made him shiver convulsively. After a while, stumbling over stones and with Baldwin murmuring an explanation that Ivar couldn’t quite register through the throbbing pain in his head, they came to an alleyway. At once he felt more than saw the presence of others.
“Your Highness,” said Baldwin.
“Ah, you got him. Good!”
Ivar sucked in a breath in surprise and then coughed violently, and that made his ribs hurt so badly he almost vomited. But he dropped to his knees. He had recognized the voice. “Prince Ekkehard!” His voice sounded like the rasp of a file on a dull blade.
“Milo and Udo will smuggle you and Baldwin out of Autun tonight and hide you along the road,” said the young prince briskly. “Tomorrow, when my entourage reaches your hiding place, we’ll smuggle you into one of the wagons and take you with us.”
“Baldwin?” croaked Ivar.