The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)

Milo drank another cup of wine and went on.

“A great host of armed men. It is true there are a pair of griffins, for I saw them myself. They are huge beasts! They shine in the sun! There was a horde of barbarians with wings sprouting from their backs, although others say they aren’t true wings but only crude emblems constructed out of wood. They looked like wings to me. And there were other foul creatures as well—men with the bodies of horses.”

“Bwr! Bwr!” The cry erupted, torn from the listening multitude, for certainly a mass of people now pressed into the chamber and crowded the broad hall beyond. More folk came, a staccato of footsteps and a clamor of voices calling back the news to those who pushed at the rear.

“Silence!” cried Adelheid. One by one and in groups they fell silent. Maybe the entire palace hushed, waiting on her words. “Barbarians? An invasion from the east? Are they Arethousans?”

“Nay, Your Majesty. Most of them seemed to be Wendish.”

“Wendish!” exclaimed the old duke. His hands trembled because of age, not anger or shock. His sojourn in Aosta and two bouts of the shivering fever had weakened him.

“They fly the banner of a black dragon.”

“The Dragons!” said Burchard. “It was Duchess Yolande’s rebellious brother Rodulf who was sent east to lead the King’s Dragons into the field against the Quman. Can it be the Dragons have come to aid Henry?”

Adelheid’s small hand closed on Burchard’s wrist just as the duke opened his mouth to speak, and he looked at her, surprised. What message passed between them, read in lips and eyes, Antonia could not interpret, but the old duke bent his head, obedient to the young empress’ will, and kept silence.

“Go on,” said Adelheid. “What else did you see and witness?”

“There were other banners as well, a dozen or more. A silver tree on a blue field—”

“Villam!”

“A gold lion on a black field.”

“Avaria!” The old duke moaned, and Adelheid called for a linen cloth and wiped his damp brow herself. “My Avaria. What means this? Have my heirs turned their backs on me? On the king?”

“If they are friend,” said Adelheid, “then they do not threaten us. If they are our enemy, then we must crush them before they reach Darre. Burchard, will you march out with me?”

“Do you mean to march against this army yourself?”

“I did not surrender to John Ironhead. Henry still fights in Dalmiaka. I will protect Aosta. I will not run.”

“If there are Bwr, Your Majesty …” said Captain Falco. “Bwr!” He was a brawny soldier, a man of action who served his lady bravely, but the name had the power to make a man as stalwart as he was shudder. The crowd murmured. This was how fear sounded, like water washing all resolve out of their hearts.

The empress rose, lifted a hand, and commanded silence. Antonia did not trust Adelheid, but she admired her. It was a pity the empress was not as malleable as her young daughters, but God did not place obstacles in one’s path in order to make life easy. The road to heaven was paved with thorns and barriers. One had to climb them and not be afraid of getting scratched up.

“Heed me!” she cried. “The Bwr once burned this city, but they will not do so today, nor will they do so as long as I rule over you and protect you! I will ride to meet them. Let every man or woman who can carry arms go to the north gate. Together with the city guard under Captain Lutfridus, they will guard the walls in my absence. I will ride out with my army, and with Duke Burchard’s and Count Tedbald’s faithful men.”

That Burchard had been too old and Count Tedbald too untrustworthy to ride to Dalmiaka with Henry and Anne she did not say, although Antonia and most of the others knew it.

They cheered her because she was their beloved queen, young and brave and pretty. Being pretty always helped.

When they had dispersed to make ready, Adelheid turned to Burchard and repeated her question. “Will you ride out with me, Duke Burchard? It seems that the obedient son has turned rebel.”

o;Describe exactly what you saw.”

“A great army.” He trembled and for a time was so overwhelmed by exhaustion, or recollection, that he could not go on. She waited. A commotion stirred the company waiting beyond the doors. Duke Burchard entered, leaning on his cane and attended by one of his nephews. Adelheid moved aside on the couch to let him sit next to her, and she patted his aged hand fondly, had a servant bring him wine, and bade him listen to the messenger’s report.

Milo drank another cup of wine and went on.

“A great host of armed men. It is true there are a pair of griffins, for I saw them myself. They are huge beasts! They shine in the sun! There was a horde of barbarians with wings sprouting from their backs, although others say they aren’t true wings but only crude emblems constructed out of wood. They looked like wings to me. And there were other foul creatures as well—men with the bodies of horses.”

“Bwr! Bwr!” The cry erupted, torn from the listening multitude, for certainly a mass of people now pressed into the chamber and crowded the broad hall beyond. More folk came, a staccato of footsteps and a clamor of voices calling back the news to those who pushed at the rear.

“Silence!” cried Adelheid. One by one and in groups they fell silent. Maybe the entire palace hushed, waiting on her words. “Barbarians? An invasion from the east? Are they Arethousans?”

“Nay, Your Majesty. Most of them seemed to be Wendish.”