Yet how could she know where the fault lay? Had Sapientia thrown herself into Geza’s arms, or had he taken her by force? The princess had marched east with her brother, and without asking questions that an Eagle hadn’t the right to ask as a prisoner, Hanna couldn’t know what had transpired to set Sapientia so fiercely against Prince Sanglant except perhaps the prince’s refusal to execute Bulkezu.
This thought of Bulkezu surprised her. The old familiar revulsion and hatred still clung, like a stench, but after her time in Darre she could see now that necessity might force a man’s hand, might bring him to spare the life of a man he detested for the sake of the greater good.
Have I forgiven Sanglant? The revelation startled her. His name evoked no fury in her heart, only resignation. Only a wry smile.
She had changed. She had come through the fire, and she had an inkling of the fearful vista opening before them that could make their former trials seem light in comparison.
“Let them be taken away, Basil. Let them be fed, and given decent accommodation and a wagon to ride on as we travel, but do not allow them to escape or I will have your head.”
The general chuckled, and perhaps he blinked just as Hanna looked at him, or perhaps he winked at her. She averted her gaze quickly.
o;So Sanglant claimed!” retorted Sapientia.
“So he did,” said Geza. “He may have been obsessed, but he is no fool. We would be fools to discount what he said.”
“It was a ruse! A lie to catch us off guard! He meant to abandon me in the wilderness all along. I would have died if it weren’t for the Pechanek mothers! I never believed his story of a cataclysm!”
“I do,” said Lady Eudokia in a voice that commanded silence. “Our scholars have studied the ancient histories. We in Arethousa escaped the full fury of the Bwr invasion that destroyed much of Dariya five hundred years ago, but we remember it. We recall bitterly the anger of the Horse people; who swore to avenge themselves on the descendants of the Lost Ones because in ancient days the Lost Ones ripped the Earth itself asunder in their war against humankind.”
Eudokia spoke with as much passion as if the event had occurred last month, but Hanna could not fix her mind around such gulfs of time, years beyond counting. In Heart’s Rest a woman was considered rich in kinship who remembered the name of her grandmother’s grandmother.
“Now this Prince Sanglant seeks an alliance with the Horse people. How can we know whether he seeks to aid humankind, or his mother’s kinfolk, the Lost Ones? How can we trust any creature who is not fully human, as we are? Who does not worship God as we do?”
The crowd remained silent, not even a whisper, but Rosvita was not cowed by the lady’s zeal. “What do you want of me, Exalted Lady? Your Highness? Your Majesty? We are nothing, we fourteen wanderers. We matter not.”
“You fled my father,” said Sapientia. “That means you are guilty of some crime. You are guilty of sorcery! You admit it yourself!”
“No need, Cousin,” said Lady Eudokia to Sapientia. “It matters not what crime she was accused of back in Dariya. We march to Dalmiaka with or without her and her companions.”
“I think it wisest to keep them close by,” said Geza thoughtfully, with a respectful nod toward Rosvita.
“If it is possible her knowledge can aid us, then I think we must march with her and hold her in reserve,” agreed Eudokia.
“When our victory is achieved?” Sapientia asked. “What, then?”
“Do not disturb yourself on that account, my dearest,” said Geza, whose gaze never flicked by the least amount toward Eudokia, although any idiot could see that he and the Arethousan lady had cozened Sapientia between them. “You will be restored to your rightful place. His Exalted Lordship will be placed on the throne that belongs to him.”
“That’s me!” cried the boy with a big grin.
“All will be well,” finished the Ungrian.
“And you, King Geza?” asked Rosvita boldly. “What do you gain from these ventures?”
He did not smile, but he wasn’t angry either. He had Bayan’s ability to be amused, but his was a character much deeper and murkier than Bayan’s had ever been. “Certain territories along the Anubar River, which has for many years marked the disputed border between Arethousa and Ungria. And justice for my wife, who sought my aid after being abandoned by her brother in the wilderness.”
Sapientia smiled brilliantly at him; her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. He patted her hand, but no wise differently, Hanna thought, than he would have patted the head of one of his favorite dogs. Bayan had treated Sapientia with more respect.
Yet how could she know where the fault lay? Had Sapientia thrown herself into Geza’s arms, or had he taken her by force? The princess had marched east with her brother, and without asking questions that an Eagle hadn’t the right to ask as a prisoner, Hanna couldn’t know what had transpired to set Sapientia so fiercely against Prince Sanglant except perhaps the prince’s refusal to execute Bulkezu.
This thought of Bulkezu surprised her. The old familiar revulsion and hatred still clung, like a stench, but after her time in Darre she could see now that necessity might force a man’s hand, might bring him to spare the life of a man he detested for the sake of the greater good.
Have I forgiven Sanglant? The revelation startled her. His name evoked no fury in her heart, only resignation. Only a wry smile.
She had changed. She had come through the fire, and she had an inkling of the fearful vista opening before them that could make their former trials seem light in comparison.
“Let them be taken away, Basil. Let them be fed, and given decent accommodation and a wagon to ride on as we travel, but do not allow them to escape or I will have your head.”
The general chuckled, and perhaps he blinked just as Hanna looked at him, or perhaps he winked at her. She averted her gaze quickly.