“In truth, I believe he did. Bayan’s death grieved Princess Sapientia mightily. Things might have turned out differently for all of us, and for the kingdom, if Prince Bayan had not died at Bulkezu’s hand.”
“The Quman prince himself killed Bayan, in combat?”
“Nay, Quman magic killed Prince Bayan. And his mother.”
Such a complicated expression swept over Theophanu’s face that Hanna looked away, embarrassed. But when Theophanu spoke again, no trace of emotion sullied her voice.
“Have you command of the Eagle’s Sight?”
No one stood near enough to hear them. The rest of their party waited obediently at the base of the little hill. “I do, Your Highness.”
“Surely you have sought sight of my father.”
Ashamed, she lowered her gaze. “My Eagle’s Sight is clouded, Your Highness. I have looked for him, but I cannot see him.”
“Is it possible that another hand has clouded your sight?”
What a fool she had been! Cherbu had concealed Bulkezu’s army for many months with magic. Surely a knowledgeable sorcerer could shield herself against the Eagle’s Sight. Yet Wolfhere had never spoken of such things to her. Perhaps he had not wanted her to know, so that he could always keep an eye on her.
“It could be possible,” she admitted. “I know little about magic, and less about the Eagle’s Sight save that I can seek for visions of those I know through fire and sometimes hear them speak.”
“You have done nothing wrong, Hanna. The king himself rewarded you with that ring you wear, and therefore I know that he considered you a faithful and trustworthy subject. That is why I am glad you are with me now. My father must understand that I am in an impossible position. The duchy of Saony cannot go to one of Rotrudis’ children. Their greed and mismanagement will only weaken the duchy. But I haven’t troops or authority to install another in their place, and either one of my cousins will ride straight to Conrad if she thinks he will take her part. I have no army, or little enough of one—”She gestured impatiently toward distant Osterburg. “—and Sanglant has taken the rest.”
“It seems a large army for even a commander with Sanglant’s reputation to march so far into the wilderness, Your Highness. They must all be fed and housed.”
“It’s true enough. We’ve heard reports from various places that all of the infantry was dispersed after the battle, sent home to tend to planting. Villam’s daughter is said to be supporting Sanglant. It’s rumored that she’s holding a portion of his army in reserve, in the marshlands, for when he returns from Ungria and the east. It could be true. She wanted to marry him once, but it wasn’t allowed because he was only a bastard.”
Wind tugged at the princess’ hair, bound up with silver pins, but no trace of feeling troubled her expression. Was it possible that the calmer Theophanu looked on the outside the more she raged in her inner heart? No wonder many in the king’s court dared not trust her; if she concealed the truth of her heart behind a veil of composure. Yet after watching Bulkezu do as he willed, giving his whims and frenzies full rein, Hanna could admire a person who had the fortitude and discipline to hold herself in check.
“I might have been allowed more, born a bastard,” Theophanu murmured. As if she had just heard herself, she looked directly, almost defiantly, at Hanna, who gazed back steadily, unafraid.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness, for speaking so boldly. I am also a third child, and what was granted to my elder siblings was not possible for me. That is why I joined the Eagles, rather than accept a marriage I would have found distasteful. I am proud to serve King Henry.”
Theophanu’s smile was thin. “Then you and I are perhaps the last folk here in Wendar who remain faithful of our own will to the rightful king. Do you fear magic, Eagle?”
“I fear it, Your Highness, but I have seen too much now to let the threat of magic halt my steps.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, because I must rest all my hopes on you. I have sent three Eagles to Aosta, but none have returned to me although I sent the first more than a year ago. You must travel to Aosta and find my father. I will give you a message to bring to him, but in truth it will be up to you to make him understand that his position here in Wendar is weakening, even here in Saony, our clan’s ancient home. Conrad troubles the west while Sanglant troubles the east. My cousin Tallia is a dangerous pawn in Conrad’s hands, and I have heard no message from my aunt Constance in Autun for many months. I cannot hold here in the center for long, when even my cousins plot to seek help from those who would undermine Henry’s authority. Not when famine and plague afflict Avaria. Not when we hear rumors of civil war from Salia. If the king hears your tale of the Quman invasion and the terrible destruction brought down onto Wendish lands, if he knows the extent of the plots whispered against his rule, surely he will return.”
2
“HANNA? Did you hear that? Hanna?”
Hanna had been lost in thought, repeating Theophanu’s message to herself for the hundredth time, but the pitch of anxiety in Ernst’s voice started her into alertness. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“You weren’t listening. Hush. It will come again.”
Fog swathed the beech forest in the central uplands of Avaria through which she and Ernst rode, thirty or more days out of Osterburg; she had lost count because the weather had not favored their journey. They had suffered many delays because of day-long downpours, swamped roads, and pockets of plague they’d had to take detours to avoid. This clinging fog was the least of the hindrances they had faced.
Above, the sky appeared gray-white, almost glaring, while around them slender trees faded into the fog, their shapes blurred by the mist. Deer darted away, vanishing quickly into the fog, but otherwise there was no sign of life except for the chuckling calls of thrushes, the exuberant song of a blackcap, and the occasional rustle of some small animal thrashing away through the dense field layer of wood rush, or into a stand of honeysuckle. Although the world was obscured, these sounds carried easily enough.
She listened.
Nothing, except for the steady clop of hooves, two mounts and two spares. Nothing, except for the sough of an east wind through the summer leaves. East lay memories, and no matter how hard she tried to squeeze them out of herself, they still swelled inside her with the ache of an old wound. On a chill summer’s day like today, her hip hurt. Where fog wrapped its tendrils around trees, she kept catching glimpses of strange figures from her dreams: centaur women stalking warriors with the bodies of humans and the faces of wolves and lynx; Sorgatani kneeling among reeds at the margin of a vast swamp; a pair of griffins hunting in the tall grass; a longship ghosting through a tide of mist like a beast swimming upriver toward unsuspecting prey; men with humanlike faces and the tails of fish swimming through the fogbound trees as through a pillared underwater city.
“Nothing,” said Ernst with disgust. “But I know I heard something. It sounded like fighting.”
His indignation made her smile. To her surprise, the youth had proved to be a decent traveling companion. He no longer talked too much, he did his share of the work, and he never faltered or complained.