The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)

She attempted again to get her bearings.

In waking, she had struggled with confusion, but as she took in the ragged group she remembered everything. Heriburg still clutched the satchel that held the precious books, her History and the copy begun by Sister Amabilia and continued by other hands, as well as their copy of the Vita of St. Radegundis. Besides the clothes on their backs, a few knives, and Hanna’s weapons, the books were all that remained of the possessions they had carried away from Darre. Jerome sat on the one chest they had filled with certain provisions and treasures saved by the sisters from the convent and hauled with them through the crown. For they had not escaped the convent alone.

“Mother Obligatia! Where is she?”

“Here I am, Sister.”

Sister Hilaria stepped aside to let Rosvita pass. With Fortunatus’ aid she knelt beside the pallet on which the old abbess lay. Obligatia was so physically weak that it was always a surprise to hear how strong her voice was and to see the powerful spirit in her gaze—she bore the intensity of a much younger person.

“So,” said Mother Obligatia. “A gamble, which you won, Sister. You have woven the crowns and brought us here.”

“If only we knew where here is!”

“There are not many stone circles with precisely seven stones, as this one has.”

“Seven in all or seven still standing?”

The stones rose at the brink of a cliff, and although she could pick out seven massive pillars she could not be sure if others lay toppled along the ground. They seemed to be standing on the edge of the world with the wind beating and moaning through the stones and the waters spilling over rocks far below, gurgling and whispering. Landward, the ground sloped away down a long, gentle distance that couldn’t quite be called a hill. There might have been heights beyond where the army was camped, but without stars or moon it was difficult to tell what was shadow and what the land itself. Just beyond their group Teuda sat beside poor Sister Petra, who rocked back and forth babbling as Teuda soothed her.

“Seven in all,” said Mother Obligatia.

“How are we situated?” Rosvita asked. “You saw the last of the setting sun.”

“The sea lies south, more or less,” said Hanna. “We’re looking north.”

“It’s still winter, by the look of this snow. You’re sure it is King Henry’s army?”

“I am sure,” said Hanna. “The skopos is with him.”

“How could they have journeyed here so swiftly?” Rosvita rubbed her eyes wearily. Fortunatus kept a hand on her back to support her.

Hanna went on. “When I was in Darre, I was taken before the skopos. The Holy Mother spoke of a crown by the sea in Dalmiaka. Or we might have arrived in southern Salia or even as far west as Aquila.”

“As I remember from reading the chronicles,” said Obligatia, fingers still woven through Rosvita’s, “there are crowns with seven stones in all three of those places.”

“I wove east, or I meant to. This must be the Middle Sea at our backs.”

“We might be in the north,” said Hanna, “but if that were so, we would be in Eika lands now. I don’t see how King Henry could have marched here with such an army.”

“You agree this must be the Middle Sea at our backs?”

“It seems most likely, unless there are other seas we know nothing of. Yet then how could King Henry know of them? If we are come to Dalmiaka, this might be the selfsame crown that the skopos spoke of.”

“The simplest explanation is often the best one,” said Fortunatus. “If a maiden’s belly swells, it was more like a man who got her with child than a shade or an angel, no matter what story she tells the deacon. If the Holy Mother did not know where we were going, then isn’t it likely she came here of her own accord not expecting to meet us?”

“Ill fortune for us,” whispered Gerwita, sniffling.

Ruoda coughed, and her spasms set off Jehan.

“Hush!” said Aurea from the gloom, where she kept watch. “Look there! Torches!”

With a grimace, and aided by a spike of adrenaline, Rosvita got to her feet. Fortunatus kept hold of her elbow. Standing, she had a clear view of the land northward. A procession approached from the distant camp, no more than two abreast but more lights than Rosvita could easily count winding toward them.

“They are seeking us,” sniveled Gerwita. “They know we’re here!”

“They must have seen the threads of the spell sparking,” said Fortunatus.

“I pray you, let us go!” said Hanna.