Crown Of Stars - Child Of Flame Part 69

Ekkehard's three companions were being held back by main force by Sanglant's soldiers as they tried to come to his aid. One wore linen bound around a head wound. Another's arm was in a sling. Their dead comrade lay shrouded under a blanket on the chamber's only bed. Not even Sanglant had dared suggest that the poor boy be given a place in the chapel beside Bayan and the other n.o.ble dead.

"My lord prince." It was clear by the expression on Captain Fulk's face that he was relieved to see Sanglant.

"Sapientia." Sanglant crossed the plank floor in a half-dozen strides, grabbed his sister's shoulders, and pulled her off Ekkehard." Don't let your grief for Bayan drive you to anything rash. G.o.d, and our father, will see that he is punished for his crimes."

"I'll see him hanged!" she cried, but she collapsed, weeping, into Sanglant's arms, and he beckoned to her attendants, who hastened to her side, pried her off him, and led her away.

Bertha's soldiers moved aside quickly to let them through, but as soon as Sapientia left the chamber, Bertha herself stepped forward." What do you suppose King Henry intends to do with a son convicted of treason?"

"I stand as surety for my brother Ekkehard. What he did was wrong, but he's young and may be forgiven once for being misled."

"Brother!" Ekkehard threw himself against Sanglant. He still had a youth's slenderness, no doubt because he was scarcely more than sixteen, but when he wrapped his arms around Sanglant, he held tight enough that Sanglant wheezed before pulling him off.

Bertha smiled. She had the look of her mother, cunning, sharp, and strong, and none of Hugh's fabled beauty.

"You and your legion fought well in the battle," added Sanglant." And lost a fair number of my good marchlanders," she replied tartly." I promised my elder sister Gerberga I'd bring her a reward for the sacrifice we Austrans and our cousins from Olsatia have made to rid Wendar of the Quman scourge. She lost her husband to a Quman raid last winter. And surely you know that Bulkezu himself is rumored to have killed our mother."

Even a man as unused to intrigue as Sanglant could see where this was leading." She wants a royal prince as recompense."

"He's young," observed Bertha, looking Ekkehard over with the same cold regard she might reserve for choosing a new horse." Not to my taste, but I'm sure that Gerberga will feel her loyalty to King Henry has been amply rewarded if she is given his youngest child as her new husband."

"A rich prize, indeed. Unfortunately, Ekkehard is abbot at St. Perpetua's in Gent."

Bertha laughed." And my b.a.s.t.a.r.d brother Hugh is, so they say, a presbyter in Darre, confidant of the Holy Mother. Vows to G.o.d may be conveniently put aside if earthly cares demand it. Your sister Sapientia wants to hang the boy for a traitor because she wants to avenge herself on him for Prince Bayan's death." A hard woman, she softened for one instant, touching her cheek as though a fly had tickled her." He was a good man. If you're a wise one, Prince Sanglant, you'll convince your sister otherwise. Wendar will suffer if kin kill kin, as this boy should have known. I think my suggestion would serve us all best."

"We shall speak of this later. Ekkehard will be sent to Quedlin-hame meanwhile, to the care of our aunt, Mother Scholastica. I'll be leading the army out at dawn, to pursue what remains of the Quman."

Bertha didn't waste words or energy. She understood the uses of fast action on campaign." We'll speak of this later," she agreed. With a final glance at Ekkehard, she left with her men.

"I-I don't want to be hanged," whispered Ekkehard, still clinging to Sanglant's arm.

"You should have thought of that before you went over to the Quman."

"But surely you'd not allow them to kill me in such a dishonorable way. I didn't have any choice once Bulkezu had captured me->: "Spare me your excuses, Ekkehard. You've been a fool, and now you'll suffer the consequences." He glanced over toward the bed where that shrouded figure lay." Ai, G.o.d, what was his name, the one I killed?"

"Welf." Ekkehard had obviously been crying, and he began weeping again." He threw himself in front of me. He saved my life."

"I think he wanted to get himself killed," muttered one of his companions.

"He managed it well enough," observed Sanglant." Isn't that the way of war? I've a piece of news for you, Ekkehard. One of your comrades, Thiemo, still lives- "Thiemo is alive! Where is he?"

"He serves another prince now. I'll let him know you're alive, but he's no longer yours to command. These other three-" They stammered out their names: Benedict, Frithuric, and Manegold." You may return to the monastery or choose to suffer whatever fate Prince Ekkehard suffers. Which will it be?"

For all their youth, for all their foolishness, for all their crimes against Henry and Wendar, they knelt most graciously and proclaimed their undying loyalty to Ekkehard. They would walk with him wherever it led, even unto death.

"So be it." Sanglant was glad to see that they had that much honor. He left them to stew, and to worry, and returned to the chamber allotted to him.

The bells rang for Vigils.

Blessing, Anna, and Zacharias slept, while Matto and Chustaffus stood guard and Thiemo played dice with Sibold, waiting up for their prince. The chamber was s.p.a.cious enough to boast two tables and three beds. Wolfhere had pulled his camp chair over to the cold hearth. There he sat, staring into the ashes as though the dead fire still spoke to him.

He glanced up as Sanglant crossed to stand beside him. A few charred sticks lay in a heap to one side where they'd tumbled as they'd burned.

"You seem troubled," said Sanglant quietly.

When Wolfhere made no answer, he sank down beside him. Grief at Bayan's loss cut hard as Sanglant watched the old Eagle reach out with the poker to disturb the charred sticks, mixing them into the heap of ashes. Dust rose from the hearth, and settled again. Bayan had managed to juggle four wives and not get himself killed; he'd even put one aside when the marriage to Sapientia had been offered to him, and he'd not been poisoned or bespelled with impotence by his cast-off wife. Surely he had the cunning to deal with Wolfhere. Impossible to think of Bayan's corpse decaying and his soul fled.

Thoughts of death choked him." What is wrong? Have you been using your Eagle's sight? Surely my father isn't-?"

"Worse." Wolfhere's voice actually trembled." Anne remains skopos. Henry returned to the palace safely after his campaign in the southern provinces. But then, unless my sight betrays me, what came next-" He could not go on for a moment, and when he did finally speak, his voice was a hoa.r.s.e whisper." This much have I deduced from what I can see, although truly Anne's sorceries have clouded the truth."

"For G.o.d's sake, go on!"

"I never thought Anne would stoop so low."

"Did you not? I never had any doubt."

Wolfhere's sharp glance only made Sanglant smile bitterly." So be it. You're wiser than I, my lord prince, but I have known her far longer than you have. My whole life in her service-" He could not go on.

"And my father, whom you swore to serve? I pray you, Eagle, tell me about my father!"

Wolfhere shuddered." Possessed by a daimone. Puppet of Anne and Hugh. What role Queen Adelheid plays in all this I cannot tell. Ai, G.o.d! That such a thing should come to pa.s.s! He has even declared that he means to anoint the infant, Mathilda, as his heir."

Anne and Hugh. Whatever else Wolfhere said faded as a rush of anger roared like wind, blinding him." He should never have trusted them. Yet who is worse, the man who trusts the untrustworthy, or the one who turned his back when he knew what dangers lay in wait for the unwary?"

Wolfhere rested head in hands, looking ten years older at that moment, utterly weary." What can we do? It is hopeless if they have already gained so much."

"Nay, do not say so," said Sanglant as he stared at the hearth. A single spark glinted among white coals." We are not done yet."

They rode out at dawn. Considering the disrepair of the walls, Sanglant found it amazing that the Quman hadn't broken through in any of a half-dozen gaps. Perhaps they hadn't managed it only because they hadn't had time. According to Lady Sophie, Bulkezu and his army had arrived a mere three days before Sanglant.

He surveyed the army riding at his back: n.o.ble lords and ladies and their eager retinues, the Ungrians bearing the body of Prince Bayan in a barrel of wine, leading them in death as well as life, and Sapientia, subdued and silent. His daughter was laughing at something Lord Thiemo had said. Although the poor boy had wept when told that Prince Ekkehard lived, he had seemed relieved to be told that he could not return to him. Fulk rode at the head of Sanglant's personal escort, the captain's keen gaze missing nothing as they headed down the road leading east.

A rash course, that he meant to take now, but the only one left to him. All along, ever since he had turned his back on his father at Angenheim, he had known this was what he would have to do. He had just never suspected that the stakes would be quite so high.

Drastic measures for drastic times.

He kept Lord Wichman beside him, not trusting him anywhere else." Your mother?" he asked politely.

Wichman laughed coa.r.s.ely." The old b.i.t.c.h. She's stubborn enough to live on for months. I pray she does, if only to torture my sisters. Do you mean to disinherit them?"

"I am not regnant, nor have I been named regent, to pa.s.s such a judgment. I believe a messenger has been sent to my sister Theo-phanu at Quedlinhame. Sapientia must also be consulted."

"So you say, Cousin, but she's nothing without Bayan." Wichman's thoughtful look gave an unfamiliar cast to his usually arrogant and l.u.s.tful features, as though another man peered out, seeking to be heard." He was a right p.r.i.c.k, but Lord knows we all respected him." He hiked up his chain mail to scratch his crotch." Did the woman please you? I had to content myself with a couple of warty wh.o.r.es down in the town. Maybe I ought to think of get K'ATE ELLIOTT ting married. I could use a good setup like Druthmar, there, with Villain's daughter. Lady Brigida is still looking for a husband, so they say."

"I understand that Lady Bertha, Judith's daughter, remains unmarried."

This sent Wichman into howls of laughter, picked up by his cronies once they had heard the joke, and the conversation quickly grew so crude that even Sanglant could not stand to hear more of it. He rode ahead with Fulk and Wolfhere beside him, falling in with the solemn n.o.bles who attended Princess Sapientia at the van.

South of the city they came to the battlefield, swarming now with looters, ravens, crows, scavengers, and the ever-present vultures circling overhead, waiting their chance. Most of the Wendish n.o.bles had been hauled off the field last night, and now the common soldiers were being carted off to ma.s.s graves. The Ungrian priests had their own rites, which he purposefully ignored. The Quman, of course, would be burned. Feathers torn off broken wings rose like chaff on the dawn breeze. A woman wept over the body of a loved one. A cart rumbled past, piled high with corpses.

Farther away, ragged folk wandered the edge of the battlefield like ghosts, stunned and bewildered. Was that young woman with long black hair as lovely as she seemed from this distance? She walked at the head of a pack of about a dozen thin, frightened people, some of them children. They huddled for a while staring over the battlefield while Sanglant watched them. At their backs stood a line of trees set along the length of a fallow field, still green from the recent rains. At last, they turned and trudged toward Osterburg, the towers of the palace stark against the pale rose sky as the sun lifted free of the eastern forest.

The army picked up the pace but hadn't gotten halfway through the open woodland toward the Veserling ford when they met a triumphant band of Lions marching in their direction with the last of the baggage train-that which hadn't been able to get in last night-rolling along in two neat lines behind them. Their ragged banner flew proudly, and Captain Thiadbold called the halt and gestured to a Lion next to him to step forward and greet the prince.

"Prince Sanglant! Your Highness, I am called Ingo, sergeant of the first cohort. See what a fine prize we have brought you!"

Sanglant saw the Eagle first. She looked exhausted, and when she saw him she wept.

"My lord prince," she cried, pressing forward on the horse they had given her to ride, "is Liath with you?"

She needed no answer, nor had he any to give her, knowing that his expression spoke as loudly as words might. She covered her eyes with a hand, hiding fresh tears.

She wasn't the only prize the Lions had brought in. Beyond all expectation they had captured the greatest prize of all, trussed and tied and forced to walk like a common slave. His face looked horrible, the flap of skin torn away from his cheek still weeping blood although someone had attempted to treat it with a poultice. Impossible to know how much pain he was in. His gaze had a kind of insane glee in it as he laughed, hearing Hanna's question.

"I should have known a Kerayit shaman's luck would not crack so easily. You lied to me, frost woman!"

"Yes!" she cried, turning to him in fury." I lied to you! I lied to you! She was never at Osterburg!"

"Silence, I pray you!" When he had silence, Sanglant spoke again, a single word: "Bulkezu."

The Quman prince's wings were completely shattered, but a few bright griffin feathers remained to him, dangling by threads from what remained of his harness.

"Hang him," said Hanna hoa.r.s.ely.

"Nay, let me kill him!" cried Wichman, riding up, and the cry rose throughout the ranks as soldiers clamored for the honor.

Sapientia drew her sword and rode forward, calling to the Lions to haul Bulkezu out in front of the line." I'll have his head in recompense for the death of my husband!"

Men crowded up from the back to see the spectacle, all of them yelling and taunting the twenty or so Quman prisoners, who stood their ground with expressions of blank indifference. Bulkezu laughed, as though to spur Sapientia's anger further. She shrieked with fury and lifted her sword.

"Quiet!" Sanglant's voice rang out above the outcry. He rode up beside Sapientia and caught her arm before she could strike." Nay, Sister, we'll have no killing of prisoners. Not when they can serve us in another way."

"Hang him then, as the Eagle says! Then everyone will know with what dishonor we treat heathens!"

"He'll serve us better alive than dead."

The words brought disbelieving silence as men murmured and Sanglant's p.r.o.nouncement was pa.s.sed by means of whispers to the rear ranks. Only one person had the courage to speak up.

"He's a monster," cried Hanna." You must see that justice is done for all the ruin he's caused. I witnessed it, in the name of King Henry!"

"Worse ruin will come if we do not fight the enemy that threatens us most. Lady Bertha. I pray you, come forward."

Bertha rode up with her standard-bearer at her side and, with only a cursory acknowledgment of Sapientia, placed herself before Sanglant. Without question, Judith's daughter had summed up the situation quickly. She had a cut on her face that hadn't been there last night, and one hand bound up in linen-she was not a person he would care to face on the battlefield, strong, cunning, and ruthless.

"I'll give you what you want," he said, "if you'll pledge me your loyalty."

Sapientia gasped." I was named as Henry's heir! This is my army- "Nay, Sister. This is my army now." He beckoned Heribert forward." I'll have it now," he said in a low voice." It's time."

With a brilliant grin, Heribert fished in the pouch hanging from his belt and brought out the gold torque that Waltharia had offered Sanglant months before. The prince took it, twisted the ends, and slid it around his neck. The heavy gold braid rested easily there. He had forgotten how natural its weight felt against his skin, the tangible symbol of his rank, his birthright, and his authority. His soldiers raised their voices in a deafening cheer. Sapientia's face washed pale, and she swayed as if dizzied by the noise.

Sanglant rode forward to take the rope bound to Bulkezu's neck out of Ingo's hand." My army," he repeated, "and Bulkezu is my prisoner." The Quman chieftain said nothing, only watched, but his lips quirked up as if he were about to break out laughing. Sanglant turned to address Judith's daughter." Lady Bertha, have we an agreement?"

"Ekkehard to marry my sister in return for my troops riding under your command? I'll accept that exchange." She grinned." I was hoping there might be more fighting."

He stood in his stirrups, half turning to survey the soldiers winding back into the woods, awaiting his command. He pitched his voice to carry toward the rear ranks." The war is not over yet, although we've won a great victory here. The threat to Wendar from the Quman is ended. But our enemies have not been defeated. Now I'm riding east. Who will ride with me?"

Not one among that host refused him.

THE UNVEILING.

CA returned home just after sunset, stepping from southern heat to autumn chill as she crossed through the gate woven of starlight and set foot on familiar ground. She stood shivering and coughing as her lungs made the adjustment, as she struggled to place herself in the wheel of the year. The heavens were unbelievably clear. A full moon rose in the east, washing a silvery light over the sky that obscured all but the brightest stars.

Those bright stars told her what she needed to know. By the position of the Dipping Cup, swinging low in the north, and the trail of the Serpent along the southwestern horizon, she knew that the autumn equinox would have fallen just before the last new moon. That being so, the sun was only a short way from reaching the nadir of the heavens along its cyclical journey, and therefore she had less than a moon's cycle left to her before that night came in which all the alignments of the stars and the heavens were in place for the great working.

She would never see another full moon. She would never again lie with Alain and caress his body with only the moon to watch over them.

Unable to help herself, she wept. Far to the south, Shu-Sha's weaving would tens of days ago have faded into sparks lost in the night, just as Alain and the men left behind to guard him had been lost. She twisted the lapis lazuli ring on her finger and with an effort wiped away her tears. Shu-Sha had scolded her more than once during the five days she had dwelt in her hall down in the southern lands.

"Do not mourn over the happiness you were fortunate enough to jossess, lest you turn that joy into grief. Be glad that you had what others may never in their lives experience. The G.o.ds have dealt dndly with you, Daughter."

It was impossible to argue with Shu-Sha, the great queen, who with her vast girth and magnificent beauty was often called the living embodiment of the Fat One, most powerful of the G.o.ds because she held both life and death in her hands. The people ruled over by Queen Shuashaana did not call their G.o.ddess the Fat One in their own language, of course, but in her heart Adica knew it was the same power who lived in both places no matter what name was used.

As a child, she had learned to stifle her tears and get on with it. She slung her pack over her shoulder and set off for the village. Her people had been busy. The lower embankment circling the tumulus had a stout palisade of logs set around it as far as she could see under moonlight. Piles of fresh earth alternated with crude shelters built for the workmen on lower ground between the ramparts. A whistling man came walking around the curve of one rampart, saw her, and stopped short. He put a horn to his lips and blew, three times, to alert the village.

"Who is there?" she called, not recognizing him, but he ran away. He had recognized her, and feared her, just as they all had in the days before Alain had come.

The lower ramparts overlapped to make a cleft between them, an easily defended opening. The workers had dug a steep ditch here and lined the bottom with stakes; planks thrown down over the ditch made a bridge. Two adults stood on sentry duty, but they shielded their eyes and murmured polite greetings without looking at her.

When she emerged from the cleft she looked down the siopi at the village and, by aid of the moon's light, surveyed the change two seasons had wrought. In the time she had been gone, the villagers had finished building the log palisade around the village, with watch posts set up at intervals and a double tower on either side of the gate. Torches burned at each watch post. Sentries stood by the torches, looking out into the night. How strange to see her peaceful village transformed into a camp made ready for war. How strange to see the serpentlike earthworks bristling with wood posts, like the ridged back of a sinuous dragon at rest.

It ruined the peace of the landscape. Yet they could only live in peace and without constant fear once the Cursed Ones were defeated. Her own sorrow, her own life, meant little compared to the life of the tribe. She hardened her heart as she descended the path.

The plank bridge had been drawn back, exposing a fresh ditch lined with pointed stakes. Lifting her staff, she shook the bells, calling out to the guard at the gate.

"Hallowed One!" By chance, her cousin Urtan stood on gate duty this night. Soon enough, the gate was opened, the plank bridge thrust across, and she welcomed inside.

"Where is Alain?" Urtan asked. Other villagers, alerted by the horn call, hurried up as torches ringed her.

"We despaired of you, Hallowed One!"

"The Fat One is merciful, Hallowed One. She brought you back to us!"

Beor shouldered through the crowd, pushing forward to see her." Where is Alain?" he demanded.

Thinking of Alain made her so tired that she thought she might fall down where she stood, only no one here could touch her to lift her up again. Only Alain could do that.

"Let me sleep," she said hoa.r.s.ely, unable to say more. She had to choke her heart as in a fist; she dared not start crying now.