The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)
Page 40
“Princess Theophanu refuses to name any of Duchess Rotrudis’ children as heir to the duchy of Saony, but both the daughters have threatened to seek Conrad’s aid to gain the ducal seat.”
“Two sows rooting in the mud while the boar looks on!”
“I pray you, Wichman,” said Sanglant, “let the Eagle finish her report without interruption.”
Hathui continued. “Cousins fight among themselves to gain lands and titles come free because there have been so many deaths in the recent wars. Riding through the marchlands, I saw fields withered by drought. I saw children laid low by famine, with their stomachs swollen and their eyes sunk in like those of corpses. In Eastfall, it rained every day for two months straight and black rot destroyed half their stores of rye. Heretics preach a story of a phoenix offering redemption. It is no wonder that people listen. The common folk fear that the end of the world is coming.”
Wichman laughed. “What evil does not plague Wendar?”
Hathui was not so easily cowed. “I have heard no report of locusts, my lord, nor has there been any news of Eika raids along the northern shores these past two years.”
“A spitfire! Do your claws come out in bed, too?”
Impatiently, she turned back to Prince Sanglant. “Princess Theophanu has sent three Eagles to Aosta and heard no answer from her father in reply to her pleas for help. I crossed paths with a fourth—” Anger creased her lips, quickly fled. “—last summer, who rode south to seek the king. I saw with my Eagle’s Sight that she crossed the Alfar Mountains safely this spring, but as soon as she came near to Darre she was lost in the sorcerer’s veil.
“Conrad of Wayland acts as if he is king, not duke. Yolanda of Varingia is embroiled in the Salian wars. Biscop Constance remains silent in Arconia. Liutgard of Fesse and Burchard of Avaria ride at Henry’s side in Aosta. Saony has no duke. Theophanu cannot act with the meager forces she has at her disposal. Who will save Wendar, my lord prince? Who will save the king?”
Sanglant said nothing. Within the embrasure, Blessing shifted, feet rubbing on stone. Sapientia wept quietly while Brigida comforted her. The others waited. Anna glanced over toward the window to see both Thiemo and Matto looking at her. Heat scalded her cheeks, and she looked down. What would happen if they came to blows? Would Prince Sanglant banish them for creating trouble? She didn’t want to lose either of them, but matters could not remain in this tense stalemate. She was going to have to choose. And she didn’t want to.
“You have the army and the leadership, my lord prince,” continued Hathui. “Turn your army home.”
“I cannot.”
“You can! Henry left Wendar in a time of trial. If he had stayed in Wendar, he would not have become bewitched. He ought to have stayed in Wendar and not ridden off to Aosta in search of a crown. And neither should you!”
“I am not riding to Aosta in search of a crown.” Anna heard the edge creep into the prince’s voice that meant the Eagle’s words had angered him, but perhaps the Eagle did not care, or did not know him well enough, to heed the warning.
“But you are riding east, in search of other tokens of power. Some have named you as a rebel against your father. I see for myself that you have usurped your sister’s command of this army.”
Silence, cold and deadly.
Yet wasn’t it true? Even though nobody said so?
A sharp snap caused everyone to jump, but it was only Wolfhere treading on a twig carried up to the room in the crowd. Lord Wichman chuckled, looking at Sapientia to see what she would do, thus challenged. Lady Bertha folded her arms across her chest, her smile thin and wicked.
Sapientia stared up at her elder brother, waiting. In a strange way, thought Anna, Prince Bayan had trained her to listen to him and wait for his approval before acting or reacting. Now she looked to Sanglant in the same way. Over the last three years she had been broken of the habit of leading.
“I have done what I must.” The hoarse scrape of his voice lent a note of urgency and passion to his words; but then, he always sounded like that. “I have never rebelled against my father. Nor will I. But the war is not won yet. Adelheid and her supporters have traded in the king for a pawn who speaks with the king’s voice but without Henry’s will. Who will act as regnant now? I say, the one who can save him by acting against Anne and her sorcerers.”
Heribert cleared his throat and spoke diffidently. “Do not forget that Anne sits on the skopos’ throne. She is no mere ‘Sister.’ She is Holy Mother over us all. To go against her, my lord prince, you must war against the church itself.”
“Even those who call themselves holy may be agents of the Enemy,” murmured Wolfhere.
“As you well know,” replied Sanglant with a mordant laugh, moving restlessly toward the table. “Is there wine?”
“Return to Wendar, my lord prince,” said Hathui stubbornly. “Raise an army, and ride to Aosta to save the king. I beg you.”
He allowed Heribert to pour him a full cup of wine, which he drained. “No.” He set down the cup so hard that the base rang hollowly on the wooden table. “I ride east, to hunt griffins.”
3
AFTER the conference with the king’s Eagle, Sanglant made his way to the privacy of Lady Ilona’s bedchamber. Her four attendants slept soundly on pallets lined up along the far wall, and Ilona lay naked on her stomach among the tangled bedclothes. Smiling slightly, she watched him as he stripped, then raised an eyebrow when he went to the unshuttered window instead of coming immediately to her bed.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
Sanglant lingered by the window, staring east, yet all he saw was stars and campfires and, beyond them, unknown country lost in darkness. The moon had not yet risen. The night was mild, the breeze a caress against his skin. “That my daughter is impossible.”
“She is only jealous. She wants you to herself. She does not like this attention you pay to a woman. It was only one gown. I have others.”