The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)
Page 150
“Brother Hugh.” The skopos’ voice was neither soft nor loud. It did not ring sharply, yet neither did it carry a tone of merciful compassion. “You may approach.”
Hugh ascended the steps and knelt before her to kiss her ring. When he stepped back, she sat. The hound lay over her feet and rested its head on massive paws, but it gazed at Hanna as at an enemy, ready for her to bolt or to attack, so that it might have the pleasure of rending her limb from limb and gnawing on her bones.
Hadn’t she seen this hound before, or one very like it?
“Who is this Eagle?” asked the skopos.
“She is called Hanna, Holy Mother. She comes from the North Mark of Wendar. In earlier years she called herself a friend to Liathano. She has recently ridden south bearing a message from Princess Theophanu, nothing we have not heard before except that she herself spoke with Prince Sanglant many months ago. He is now ridden east with a portion of the army that defeated the Quman.”
“To what end does he ride east, Eagle?”
Dared she speak the truth?
“I am only an Eagle, Holy Mother,” she said, surprised she had enough breath to form audible words. I am only a pig, hiding in the forest. “For many months I was held captive by Prince Bulkezu of the Pechanek tribe, the leader of the Quman army. When Prince Sanglant and Prince Bayan defeated Bulkezu at the Veser River, they freed me. Prince Sanglant sent me west to bring news of his victory to his father.”
There was so much else she could say, but in the end, it came down to this: Did she hate Sanglant for sparing Bulkezu more than she feared the power of those who might have ensorcelled the king? Even if Hugh had done what Hathui accused him of, did that mean that the Holy Mother was involved? She didn’t know whom could she trust or who was most dangerous.
“Your Excellence,” began Hugh, “this Eagle brought news about Prince Sanglant and the folk who travel with him. I think it worthwhile to question her closely about—”
A movement by the skopos, glimpsed by Hanna but not really seen, stopped him.
“Are you one of those who bears the Eagle’s Sight?”
The question surprised her. “Yes, Holy Mother.”
“Who taught you?”
“An Eagle called Wolfhere, Holy Mother.”
“Wolfhere.” A complex hint of emotion colored her voice.
“When did you last see Wolfhere?”
“He rides with Prince Sanglant, Holy Mother.”
“So he did.”
That delicate place between her shoulder blades prickled, as though an archer stood at the far doors with bow raised and an arrow sighted at her back.
Did, which meant not any longer. Whose side was Wolfhere on?
The earth lurched sideways beneath her. The hound barked once before settling beneath the throne. A grinding noise shuddered through the palace and faded as quickly as it had come, draining away to silence. The sound of raking stopped, leaving nothing but faint echoes, more a memory of the sound than the sound itself.
Hugh coughed. “They’re coming more frequently.”
“God are angry that we have not acted more swiftly and decisively to drive out the Arethousan interlopers. Sister Abelia, bring the brazier. Fan the coals into flame.” The cleric nodded and went out behind the curtain.
“It won’t work,” said Hugh curtly.
“Do you think not, Brother Hugh?”
“If I could not, then how can she?”
“It may be so, but we must leave no avenue untrod. It will take months, even years, to locate and rebuild the lost crowns. My envoys have heard stories of an intact crown by the sea in Dalmiaka, but the Arethousan despots who rule there refuse to let them travel to that place. On every side we are thwarted. We are too few, and our enemies too many. Sister Venia is missing and St. Ekatarina’s Convent closed up and apparently abandoned. We must have seven when the time comes, aided by tempestari so we can be assured of clear skies. I need my daughter.”
“Is it wise to speak so freely, Holy Mother?”
“To you, Brother Hugh? You have joined our Order willingly, and with a clear purpose. Is there some reason I should not trust you?”