“Let her be, comrades.”
“But what happened?” cried the others, voices tumbling one on top of the next. “Where are we going in such haste? Why are we traveling back the way we came as though we’re fleeing the Enemy?”
“Can you tell us what happened, Hanna?” Rosvita’s tone was mild but her expression disconcertingly tense. She touched Hanna’s cheek with a finger, flicking at the skin; Hanna winced, feeling the scar where the ember had burned her. “Ah!” murmured Rosvita sadly, as if she had only now realized that Hanna bore a new injury.
“I saw it.” She did not recognize her own voice. The smoke had ruined it. “Fire. Burning. A flood of water as mighty as the sea unleashed.” Tears made her stammer. “T-the end of the world.”
3
THE company of thirty handpicked soldiers and their charge fled down onto the coastal plain in blistering heat to rejoin the queen’s army, and on the evening of the fifth day they rode into a camp situated near the shore in the hope, perhaps, of catching a breeze off the waters. Yet the tide was far out, exposing rocks and slime, and despite the lowering twilight there was no wind at all, only the heat.
In the center of camp Antonia dismounted from her mule and fixed Adelheid with an exasperated gaze as a servant showed her to a seat under an awning. Adelheid indicated that all but Duke Burchard and her most faithful retainers should depart to give Antonia a few moments to relax in peace.
“How long will we suffer in this heat?” Duke Burchard asked the empress, as if continuing a conversation halted by Antonia’s arrival.
“It is part of the skopos’ plan. If clouds cover the sky, then she cannot weave her great spell. Or so I understand.” Servants fanned them, but it was still almost too hot to breathe.
Burchard grunted, sounding uneasy. “When I was young, the church condemned tempestari. They said such magic interfered with the natural course of God’s will.”
“One might say the same of swords and spears,” observed Adelheid, “for otherwise enemies would do much less damage each to the other when they went to war, and battles would be a far less bloody business. Sorcery is a tool, Burchard, just like a sword.” She turned to regard Antonia, who had finished drinking her wine while a servant wiped her sweating brow and neck with a damp linen cloth. “You were not successful, then, Sister Venia?”
She was dusty, sore, hot, tired, and thoroughly angry. “He has griffins!”
“So the scouts reported,” said Burchard with an uplifted brow. “Didn’t you believe them?”
“I did not comprehend the nature of their power.”
“What is the nature of a griffin’s power?” The empress sat with feet tucked up under her in a most unbefitting informality; one blue silk slipper peeped out from beneath the gold drapery of her robe. She leaned forward now, lips parted, eyes wide, as innocent as a child and most likely just as stupid.
“They have the power to banish the galla. It is said griffin feathers can cut through the bonds of magic.”
“Did the galla not throw confusion into his army?”
“A score of men may have died, more or less. I viewed the attack from a safe distance. We have not stopped him.”
“But we have slowed him down.”
The queen’s prettiness had never irritated Antonia more than at this moment. How soft those pink lips looked! How pale and inviting were those lovely eyes! Adelheid had not sullied her hands with blood, since the criminals she had handed over to Antonia were marked for execution in any case. But Adelheid had the knack of getting others to do her dirty work for her so that her hands remained lily white. She had scribes to write her missives; loyal guardsmen to wield swords in her defense; stewards to bring her food and drink and a host of fawning courtiers like that old fool Burchard to sing her praises. Beauty was a perilous gift, so often misused. Even as a girl Antonia had scorned those who with their ephemeral beauty got their way even when it was wrong for them to have done so. She had never possessed winsomeness. She had studied righteousness and the game of power to achieve her ends, molding herself into God’s instrument.
That was a better kind of sword, one whose reach was infinite and whose span was eternal.
“We cannot stop him,” said Antonia. “Have you not considered what the failure of this attack means? The galla were our most powerful weapon.”
“Think you so, Sister Venia? I would have thought that surprise was our most powerful weapon.”
“The galla surprised him, yet he overcame them.”
Adelheid sighed, shifting her feet. Her hair was uncovered as relief from the heat, and her thick black hair braided in as simple a fashion as any farm girl. “I hope you do not despair. I do not.”
Antonia knew better than to say what she thought. She had her own plans, and it would not do to anger the empress. “What do you mean to do, Your Majesty?”
“I mean to send you back to my daughters. You will reside at Tivura until I call for them. I believe you can protect them with your galla, if need be. You have proved your worth. I know you will do what you must to protect them. I hope you do not fear the journey back to Darre. There may be dangers now that Prince Sanglant’s army descends into our land.”
Burchard was nodding in time to the queen’s recital. Antonia had once had more patience for this kind of nonsense, and it was difficult to endure it now, but even so she knew how to smile to gain another’s confidence and goodwill. Adelheid needed her, and for now she needed Adelheid. “I am well armed, just as Prince Sanglant is, Your Majesty. And your plans?”
“We will march east through Ivria along the coast.”
“Away from Darre?”