The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars 5)

“He insulted my father,” replied Sanglant.

“Ah.” Geza spat on the ground to show his contempt for the prisoner. “Is he dead now?”

“Not until he’s given me what I need.”

Geza nodded and took his leave, returning to his bed. He had been grateful enough to get Bayan’s body back, and he had stinted in no way in making Sanglant a welcome guest in the kingdom of Ungria, yet it remained clear that he was only waiting for Sanglant and his army to leave and that he was by no means happy at the thought of that same army returning to cross Ungrian lands on their road back to Wendar. He had even suggested that Sanglant take his army north into the war-torn Polenie lands. Yet he didn’t want to fight Wendish troops either; after all, he and King Henry were nominally allies. When Geza had offered one of his sons as a new husband for Sapientia, Sanglant had actually flirted with the idea—for the space of three breaths.

As Geza and his entourage crossed the courtyard to the hall, Sanglant caught sight of Hathui and Zacharias over by the stables, she with her arm around his waist as if she were holding him up. Wolfhere stood by the doorway, lighting their way with a lamp as they ducked inside. How had Zacharias hidden his mutilation all these months? No one had even suspected. But then, Zacharias kept to himself, never truly part of the group, and in truth he stank because he so rarely washed.

“My lord prince!” Heribert hurried up, hair mussed and face puffy with sleep. “Everyone is saying you killed Bulkezu.”

“Rumor has already flown, I see. Thank the Lord we’re moving on tomorrow. These Ungrians sing too much.”

“You haven’t complained of Lady Ilona’s attentions.”

“She’s worst of all! I’m nothing more than a stallion to her, brought in to breed the mare. No more women, Heribert.”

The cleric chuckled. “Isn’t that what you said in Gent?”

“I mean it this time!”

Mercifully, Heribert did not answer, merely cocked an eyebrow, looking skeptical as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it down. The first predawn birds cried out, heralding the day to come.

“The Ungrian camp followers will stay behind when we leave Geza’s kingdom. Who will be left to tempt me? Pray God the sorcerers we find will know how to get Liath back.”

“Yet what lies beyond Ungria? A trackless plain, so they say. How will we find these griffins and sorcerers you seek?”

Sanglant smiled, but in his heart he felt no peace, knowing that some choices were ugly, made for expediency’s sake rather than being ruled by what was just. “That is why Bulkezu still lives. He’ll guide me to the griffins in exchange for his freedom—and a chance to kill me.”

IV

THE SUMMER SUN

1

AT the Ungrian town of Vidinyi, King Geza made his farewells and turned his court west to return to the heartland of his kingdom. A small fleet of broad-beamed merchant ships and a dozen smaller, swifter galleys had been put at the disposal of Prince Sanglant. After off-loading their cargoes of wine, oil, and silk from the Arethousan Empire, they took on grain for the return journey downriver as well as the two thousand horses, eight hundred soldiers, and two hundred or more servants with their miscellaneous carts and pack animals.

The river seemed as broad as a lake to Sanglant as he stood on deck, Heribert beside him, watching the lengthy and difficult process of horses coming up onto the ships. Beyond the wharves, earth-covered fires burned along the strand. Because there was no wind and the air lay heavy and humid, wraithlike streamers of smoke from these fires stretched out along the shoreline, screening willow scrub and sapling poplars.

“They can’t get much more charcoal near town,” Heribert said. “Look how far back the woodland is cut.”

“They’re using charcoal for their ironworks, to forge more weapons. Ungria grows stronger every year and expands its border eastward.” Sanglant gestured toward the new palisade wall surrounding Vidinyi. “They say it’s a seven-day trip downriver to the Heretic’s Sea. We won’t be gone from Ungria fast enough for my taste.” “Missing Lady Ilona already?”

“I suppose I deserve that! Missing Bayan, more like. He was the best of them.”

“If what Brother Breschius and Zacharias say is true, and considering the example of Bulkezu, you may look more kindly on the Ungrians once we are out on the plains at the mercy of the Quman and the Kerayit.”

“Maybe so. But Geza delayed us here for his own reasons. He’s a stubborn man and more conniving than he seems.”

“Hoping to convince Sapientia to marry one of his sons? Or hoping to loose us into the wild lands so late in the season that the winter finishes us off?”

“Hard to say. He’s not simple. No doubt the barbarians are more honest about what they want.”

“Our heads? Our horses?”

“Our selves as their slaves and puras?” He laughed curtly, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

The woodland had indeed been cut back on all sides of the town, but when they at long last cast off and the press of the current took them round a bend out of sight of Vidinyi, forest gradually took hold on either side until it became a monotonous fence of trees broken at intervals by clusters of low houses dug into the ground. The folk about their daily chores stared as they passed; some of the children shouted greetings; then the little village would be lost behind a new screen of forest as if it had never existed.