The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)

“Rufus?”

“That’s right,” she continued amiably, her voice muffled by the cloth. “He came south last year at the command of Biscop Constance in Autun, didn’t he?”

“So he told me.” Carrying a message very like the ones sent by Theophanu, but the king had not heeded him.

“Yes, poor lad. He was so sick even the palace healers thought he would die from the shivering. That’s why he had to be left behind this past spring when the king rode south.”

“Yet all the other Eagles rode south with the king, didn’t they? Why haven’t any of them brought reports back to Darre? Why is it always the queen’s Aostan messengers we see?”

“How can I know the king’s mind? I can only thank the Lord and Lady that his army has won victories over both the infidels and the heretics. And over a few Aostan nobles who would prefer no regnant placed above their heads. So we’re told.”

Her account tallied with the news Rufus had given Hanna. “I’ve heard talk that the king and queen will be crowned with imperial crowns before the end of the year.”

“That talk has been going on as long as I’ve been here, these two and a half years. Maybe it will finally happen.”

With the steady scritch of the broom against wood like an accompaniment to her thoughts, Hanna finally realized what was strangest about this industrious woman. “You’re Wendish.”

“So I am. I’m called Aurea, from the estate of Landelbach in Fesse. You’re that new Eagle what rode in a few months back.”

“Yes. My name is Hanna Birta’s-daughter, from the North Mark. I come from a place called Heart’s Rest.” A low rumble shook through the floor and the entire building swayed.

Hanna shrieked. “What is that?”

The rumbling faded, the building stilled, and Aurea kept sweeping. “Haven’t you felt one yet? An earthquake? We feel them every few months.”

“Nay, no earthquakes. Nor weather anywhere near as hot as what I’ve suffered through here.” She was still trembling.

“True enough. It’s hot here for weeks on end, too, not just for a short spell as it would be up north where I come from. It isn’t natural.”

Hanna exhaled, still trying to steady her nerves. “An old friend of mine would say that Aosta lies nearer to the sun. That’s why it’s hotter here.”

“Is it? That seems a strange story to me. Nearer to the sun!” Aurea hummed under her breath. “But no stranger than many a tale I’ve heard here in Darre. Sister Heriburg says that in the east there’s snakes who suckle milk right from the cow. In the south no plants can grow because the sun shines so hot, and the folk who live there have great, huge ears that they use like tents during the day to protect them from the sun. Even here, there’s stories about godly clerics who abide in the skopos’ dungeons like rats, hidden from the sight of most people, but I don’t suppose those are any more true than that tale my old grandmam told me about a dragon turned into stone in the north country. It lies there still, they say, by the sea, but nothing can bring it back to life.”

She kept her gaze on the warped floorboards where dust collected in cracks. Hanna thought she would choke in air now polluted with a swirling cloud of dust, but she dared not move. She had to think. How strange to speak of clerics hidden away in dungeons.

Maybe it was only a figure of speech, an old tale spun by the palace servants to pass the time.

But maybe it wasn’t.

“I’ve heard stories of men who can turn themselves into wolves,” she said at last, cautiously, “but never any of clerics who can turn themselves into rats. I’ve heard that story about the dragon, too, though, the one turned into stone. When there’s a great storm come in off the Northern Sea, you can hear the dragons keening. That’s what my old grandmother always said.”

“Lots of stories of dragons,” agreed the servant woman without looking up from her sweeping, “but I’ve never heard tell of a single person who’d ever seen such a beast. Rats, now. Rats I’ve seen aplenty.”

“There must be an army of rats in a great palace like this one.”

“And the biggest ones of all down in the dungeons. I don’t doubt they’re caught down there somehow, between stone walls. There’s only the one staircase, guarded by the Holy Mother’s faithful guards, and they’re sharp-eyed, those fellows. Everyone says so. As likely to skewer a rat on the point of their knife if it comes scurrying up the stairs. A woman here I know said it happens every year, and then they roast those rats they’ve caught and throw their burned carcasses to the dogs.”

She looked up then, her gaze like a sharp rap on the head.

“It would take a lot of rats to fill a dog’s belly,” answered Hanna, floundering.

“Not if they’ve grown as big as a dog themselves, or bigger even, human-sized or some say as big as a horse. A horse!” She bent back to her task with a curt chuckle. “I’m not believing such foolish tales. No rat can grow to be the size of a horse, and where would it hide, then? But I suppose they could become mighty big, nibbling on scraps and prisoners’ fingers and toes.”

That sharp look made Hanna cautious. Was there a veiled purpose to Aurea’s talking, or was she just nattering to pass the time?

“I remember stories that my grandmother told me.” Hanna moved along the attic until she came to the open trapdoor. She squinted down the length of the ladder but saw no lurking shadow, no listening accomplice. “I do love to trade old stories, about dragons and rats and wolves. I have a few stories of my own to tell.”

“So it might well be, you being an Eagle and all,” agreed the woman, sweeping past Hanna toward the window. Tidy piles of dirt and dust marked her path like droppings. “Eagles see all kinds of things the rest of us can’t, don’t you? Travel to strange and distant lands with urgent messages on behalf of the king. You’re welcome to join those of us servants from Wendar when we attend Vespers in St. Asella’s chapel, by the west gate of the city. There’s a cleric from Wendar called Brother Fortunatus who gives the sermon in Wendish there. Only on Hefensday, mind. That’s when we’re allowed to go.”