Crown Of Stars - Child Of Flame Part 7

"This is the woman we've heard so much about!" he murmured in her ear as she rose." G.o.d preserve us!"

His gaze had fastened on the Aoi woman. He was not the only person in the hall ogling her. Her features were striking but not beautiful, and although admittedly her hair had the glamour of polished bronze, she wore it caught back in a complicated knot that made her look peculiar rather than regal. Her gaze was fierce and commanding, even combative. She was not afraid to look Henry in the eye, and her proud carriage suggested that she considered herself the regnant and Henry her subject.

"I come back, Henri," she said, p.r.o.nouncing his name in the Salian way with an unvoiced "h" and a garbled "ri," "but I am not believing that you cared for the child as you promised to me you would."

"I pray you, Your Majesty," said Rosvita smoothly into the shocked silence that followed this outrageous accusation, "let chairs be brought so that our visitors may sit and eat. Truly, they must have a long journey behind them. Food and drink are always a welcome sight to the traveler. Indeed, let Prince Sanglant's mother abide in my own chair, and I will serve her."

Henry stared so fixedly at the foreign woman he had once called "beloved," and whom it was popularly believed he would have married had he been permitted to, that finally Queen Adelheid rose with cool aplomb and indicated Rosvita's seat to the right of Helmut Villam. It was not actually Adelheid's prerogative, but Adelheid was neither a fool nor a quitter.

"Let a chair be brought for Prince Sanglant so that he may be seated beside me," she said in her high, clear voice." Let his lady mother be honored as is her right and our obligation, for it was her gift of this child to my husband which sealed his right to rule as regnant in Wendar and Varre."

Sanglant stepped forward." I have a child." His voice had a hoa.r.s.e sc.r.a.pe to it, as though he were afflicted with pain, but his voice always sounded like that. Years ago he had taken a wound to the throat in battle.

He untied a bundle from his back, uncoiled linen cloth, and a moment later held in his arms a yearling child, as sweet a babe as Rosvita had ever seen, with plump cheeks, a dark complexion, and bright blue eyes." Da da!" she said in the ringing tones of imperious babyhood. He set her on the ground and she took a few tottering steps toward the king, swayed, lost her balance, and sat down on her rump. Lifting a hand, she pointed toward Henry and said, with despotic glee, "Ba! Ba!"

Sanglant swept her up, strode forward and, by leaning over the feasting table, deposited her in Henry's arms. The king did not even resist. Many yearling babies would have shrieked in rage or fear, but the tiny child merely reached up, got a bit of the king's beard between her fingers, and tugged.

"Ba!" she exclaimed, delighted.

"Jugglers!" said Henry hoa.r.s.ely. He sat and downed the contents of his wine cup in one gulp while the baby tried to climb up to his shoulder to get hold of the gleaming coronet of gold he wore on his brow-not the king's crown of state, too heavy and formal to wear at a feast, but his lesser crown, a slender band of gold worn when circ.u.mstances called for a lesser degree of formality.

Prince Sanglant's smile was sharp. Turning, he tossed the silver ball to the nearest juggler. The poor man jerked, startled, but his hand acted without his mind's measure and he caught the ball. The hall came alive then, as dawn unfolds: people recalled the food on their platters; the jugglers returned to their show of skill and daring; the soldiers who had come forward to publicly and thus irrevocably mark their allegiance to Prince Sanglant rose and waited for his command. Sanglant spoke quietly to Captain Fulk, after which the good captain dispersed his men efficiently, obtained the lead lines of the pony and the goat, and, leading the two animals, retreated from the hall while Sanglant came forward to take his place at Adelheid's left. The young cleric, Heribert, who had appeared so mysteriously in the Alfar Mountains, stuck close by Sanglant's side. It was he who took over serving the prince, although before he had served Theophanu. The princess' expression remained as blank as stone. She rose and went to kiss Sanglant, once on either cheek, and he caught her closer and whispered something which, amazingly, brought a whisper of a smile to her face, seen and gone as swiftly as the flutter of a swallow's wing.

"Go to Princess Theophanu," Rosvita said to Fortunatus in an undertone. He hastened away to stand behind the princess' chair so that she would have a person of fitting rank to serve her now that Brother Heribert had, evidently, defected to her half brother.

Sanglant turned his attention to charming Adelheid while Henry had his hands full of clambering, enthusiastic baby. Something fundamental had changed in the prince in the fourteen months he had been gone from the king's progress. Rosvita had seen battle joined on the field, and she had seen skirmishes played out in the subtler fields of court, but never before had she seen Sanglant maneuvering, as he obviously was now, in the political arena. Of course, before he hadn't had a child and a wife.

Where was Liath?

"You I will be thanking, woman," said the one known as Alia, who came up beside her." You are one of the G.o.d-women, are you not?"

It took Rosvita a moment to translate the strange phrase." Yes, I am a cleric. My service is devoted to G.o.d and to King Henry. I pray you, Lady, sit here, if you please. Let me pour you some wine."

But the foreign woman remained standing, examining Rosvita with a stare that made her feel rather like what she supposed an insect felt before the hand of fate slapped down upon it. She was shorter than Rosvita and powerfully built, with the same kind of leashed energy common to warriors forced into momentary stillness. Alia did not smile, but abruptly the tenor of her expression changed." You spoke in the way of an elder," she said abruptly, "when you rose to offer guesting rights. For this short time, there will be no fighting between Henri and his son."

"So I hope," agreed Rosvita, but in truth the observation surprised her. She did not know what to expect from the Aoi woman. She did not know anything, really, about the Aoi except for legends half buried in ancient ma.n.u.scripts and tales told around hearths at night in the long halls of the common people. Like many, she had begun to believe the Aoi were only a story, a dream fostered by old memories of the ancient Dariyan Empire, but it was impossible to deny the evidence of her own eyes." Sit, I pray you." At times like this, one fell back on basic formality." Let me pour you wine, if you will, Lady."

"To you," said Alia without making any movement toward the chair, "I will give my spoken name, because you are wise enough to use it prudently. I am known among my people as Uapeani-ka-zonkansi-a-lari, but if that is too much for your tongue, then Kansi-a-lari is enough."

Rosvita smiled politely." With your permission, then, Lady, I will address you as Kansi-a-lari. Is there a t.i.tle that suits you as well? I am unaccustomed to the customs of your people."

"Kansi-a-lari is my t.i.tle, as you call it." With that, she sat, moving into the confines of the chair with the cautious grace of a leopard slinking into a box that might prove to be a cage.

The feast ground on, lurching a little, like a wagon pulled over rough ground, but entertainers took their turns, platters of beef, venison, and pork were brought hot from the outdoor cookhouses, and wine flowed freely. Pet.i.tioners shuffled forward in waves and were sent on their way with a judgment or a coin or a sc.r.a.p from the king's platter for their pains. A poet trained in the court chapel of the Salian king sang from a lengthy poem celebrating the virtues and fame of the great emperor, Taillefer, he who had risen from the kingship of Salia to the imperial crown of Darre. Emperor Taillefer stood alone in the ranks of the great princes, for no regnant from any land in the one hundred years since his death had gained enough power to duplicate his achievement. None until Henry, who had now, through marriage to Adelheid, allied his kingdom of Wendar and Varre with the country of Aosta, within whose borders lay the holy city of Darre. Of course the poet meant to praise the dead Emperor Taillefer while flattering the living king, Henry, whose ambition to take upon himself the t.i.tle "Holy Dariyan Emperor" was no secret to his court.

"Look! The sun shines no more brightly than the emperor, who illuminates the earth with his boundless love and great wisdom. For although the sun knows twelve hours of darkness, our regnant, like a star, shines eternally."

The entrance of Prince Sanglant and his mother, while never forgotten, was subsumed into the familiar conviviality of the feast. And anyway, it gave everyone there something to gossip about as the banquet, and the poet, wore on.

"He enters first among the company, and he clears the way so that all may follow. With heavy chains he binds the unjust and with a stiff yoke he constrains the proud."

After all, it was the fifth day of feasting, and even the heartiest of revelers might be forgiven for growing restless after endless hours of merriment and gluttony. In an odd way, Rosvita was grateful to serve rather than sit. She attended to Alia as un.o.btrusively as possible, so as not to startle her or give her any reason to feel spied upon or threatened.

"He is the fount of grace and honor. His achievements have made him famous throughout the four quarters of the earth."

The Aoi woman did not invite conversation. Young Lord Fride-braht, seated to her right, was certainly too much in dread of her strange appearance and fierce gaze to speak one single word to her. Even old Villam, who had known Alia those many years ago in her brief time at court and who certainly had never before lacked the spirit or courage to flatter an attractive woman, attempted only a few comments before, in the face of her disinterest, he gave up. Alia watched the king, the court, and occasionally her son. She ate and drank sparingly. In this way, the feast continued without further incident.

The poet finished his panegyric at last, and a cleric came forward to give a pleasing rendition of "The Best of Songs," the wedding song taken from the ancient Essit holy book.

"My beloved is mine, and I am his. Let me be a seal upon your heart, like the seal upon your hand."

The king's favored Eagle, Hathui, beckoned to Rosvita." His Majesty will take his leave of the hall now."

"What make you of this turn of events?" asked Rosvita. Although Hathui was only a common-born woman, she had a keen eye and the king's confidence.

"It is unexpected." Hathui laughed at the absurdity of her own statement. Henry had gotten the baby settled on his knee and was now feeding her the choicest bits, mashed into a porridgelike con sistency, from the platter he shared with his queen." I believe the king would be better served if he sorts it out in the king's chambers, in some manner of privacy, away from the a.s.sembly."

Almost as if he had overheard the Eagle's statement, Sanglant rose to toast the newly married couple. Despite his common clothing, he had the carriage of a prince and the proud face of a man who expects loyalty and obedience in those who follow him. He knew how to pitch his voice to carry over the buzzing throng.

"Let many blessings attend this union," he said to cheers. When the hurrahs tailed off, he went on." But let me call before you one blessing, in particular, that is held by our blessed regnant and my beloved father, King Henry."

The hall quieted. The guards at the doors strained forward to hear. Even the servants paused in their tasks.

At the sound of her father's voice, the baby stood up in Henry's lap and sang out, "Da! Da!" in a voice surely meant someday to ring out above the clash of battle. Henry laughed as many in the a.s.sembly chuckled appreciatively or murmured to each other, wondering what the prince was about. b.a.s.t.a.r.ds siring children was nothing unknown, alas, but it wasn't customary to bring such a left-handed lineage to the attention of the entire court.

A fly buzzed annoyingly by Rosvita's ear. As she slapped it away, Sanglant continued.

"King Henry holds in his arms my daughter, whom I have named Blessing, as was my right as her father."

"And a blessing she truly is, Son," replied Henry. Despite the shock of Sanglant's and Alia's arrival, Henry had mellowed under the influence of the child. Or so it seemed. He was a subtle campaigner, and in such circ.u.mstances it was easy to forget that his wrath, once kindled, was slow to burn out." In your place, with such responsibilities, it is wise for you to come seeking forgiveness of me. You cannot hope to feed and clothe a retinue in this guise you have taken, garbed something like a common soldier and without even the gold badge of your royal lineage about your neck. Surely your daughter deserves more than this journeyer's life."

Adelheid's smile sharpened as she looked at Sanglant to see how he would respond to this thrust.

The prince downed his cup of wine in a single gulp and, with a flush staining his bronze-dark cheeks, replied with an edge in his voice." I ask for nothing for myself, Your Majesty. I thought I made that plain when I returned to you the belt of honor which you yourself fastened on me when I was fifteen. What I wear now I have earned through my own efforts. Nay, I return to court not for my own benefit."

They were like two dogs, growling before they bit.

"If you do not come seeking my forgiveness, then why are you here?" demanded Henry.

"I come on behalf of my daughter, Blessing. I ask only for what is due her as the last legitimate descendant of the Emperor Taillefer."

Taillefer. Dead these hundred years and his lineage died with him, for no child sired by his loins had reigned after him and his empire had fallen apart soon after his death.

Rosvita understood, then, everything that hadn't been plain to her before: the puzzle of the pregnant Queen Radegundis, who had fled to the convent after her husband Taillefer's death; the mystery of Mother Obligatia and the cryptic words of Brother Fidelis; and most of all, the inexplicable l.u.s.ter that made Liath appear to be far more than the simple king's messenger she supposedly was.

"So many show such an interest in a common Eagle," the king had said once, over a year ago, when she had been brought before him to face his judgment. But a child born of Taillefer's line would surely retain some of Taillefer's legendary glory, the corona of power that cloaked him at all times.

Henry stared at his son." Do you mean to suggest that the Eagle you ran off with is descended from Taillefer?"

Sanglant's answer was pitched not to carry to his father but rather to the entire a.s.sembly of n.o.bles and serving-folk." Who here will witness that I made a legitimate and binding union of marriage with the woman called Liathano?"

Soldiers stepped forward from their stations beside the door." I will witness, Your Highness!" one called, and a second, and a third and fourth, echoed him. As their shouts died away, Captain Fulk came forward. His steadiness was well known, and he had gained renown for his service to Theophanu on the disastrous expedition to Aosta in the course of which they had, despite everything, rescued Adelheid from the clutches of Lord John Ironhead.

"I witness, Your Highness," he cried, "that you freely stated your intention before G.o.d and freeborn witnesses to bind yourself in marriage to the woman Liathano."

"Then there is no impediment," said Sanglant triumphantly." Liathano is the great granddaughter of Taillefer and Radegundis, born out of legitimate unions and therefore herself legitimate, not a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. That is why she now wears the gold torque that I once wore at my throat. In this way, I honored her royal lineage and her right to claim descent from Taillefer." He looked neither at his mother or father as he said this, only at the crowd. Some of the a.s.sembly had stood, trying to see better, and that had caused others at the back to stand on their benches or even on the tables. The air in the hall and the very att.i.tude of the crowd snapped with the reverberant energy that precedes a thunderstorm.

Queen Adelheid's smile had gained a fixed look, and for an instant she looked really angry.

"This is unbelievable," said Henry." Taillefer died without a legitimately born son to succeed him, as was the custom in those days in Salia. He has no descendants."

"Queen Radegundis was pregnant when Taillefer died." Sanglant gestured toward the hapless poet who had entertained the feasting mult.i.tude with Taillefer's exploits and n.o.ble qualities." Is that not so, poet?" The poor man could only nod as Sanglant threw back into the hall lines that Rosvita had once read from her precious Vita of St. Radegundis, which she had received from the hands of Brother Fidelis." 'Still heavy with child, Radegundis clothed herself and her companion Clothilde in the garb of poor women. She chose exile over the torments of power.' And took refuge in the convent at Poiterri. What became of the child Radegundis carried, Your Majesty?"

"No one knows," said Hathui suddenly, speaking for the king." No one knows what became of the child."

"I know." Rosvita stepped forward. Was it disloyal to speak? Yet she could not lie or conceal when so much was at stake. She owed the truth for the sake of Brother Fidelis' memory, if nothing else." I know what became of the child born to Radegundis and Taillefer, for I spoke to him in the hour of his death in the hills above Herford Monastery. He was called Brother Fidelis, and except for a single year when he lapsed from his vows for the sake of the love of a young woman, he spent his life as a monk in the service of G.o.d. Fidelis wrote these words in his Life of St. Rade-gundis: The world divides those whom no s.p.a.ce parted once.'"

She paused to make sure that every person there had time to contemplate the hidden meaning in his words." Truly, can it not be said that before a baby is born, it and its mother are of one body, of a single piece? What G.o.d divides in childbirth can be split asunder by the world's intrigues as well."

When their murmuring died away, she went on." I spoke as well to the woman whom he married and who bore a child conceived with his seed. She is an old woman now, and she lives in hiding out of fear of those who seek her because of the secret she carries with her. I believe that her story is true, that she was briefly married to Fidelis-the son of Taillefer and Radegundis-and that her union with Fidelis produced a daughter. It is possible that the daughter lived, and survived, and in her turn bore a child."

"She lived and she survived," said Sanglant in a grim voice." A daughter was born to her, gotten in legitimate marriage with a disgraced frater who had studied the lore of the mathematici. He named the child Liathano. The rest you know."

"Where, then, is Liath?" Henry gestured toward the hall as if he expected her to step forward from a place of concealment." Why have you returned to me, with this astounding claim, without her?"

It fell away, then, the pride and the anger and the confidence. Sanglant began to weep silently, a few tears that slid down his cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away. Weeping, after all, was a man's right and obligation.

"Dead, or alive, I cannot say," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely." She was stolen from me. I do not know where she is now."

AS Liath descended the staircase the light faded quickly, yet where it grew dimmest she could still distinguish walls and steps with her salamander eyes. The old sorcerer matched her step for step even though she stood half a head taller. It grew markedly cool. At intervals, the murmuring of voices swept up the staircase like a wind out of the Abyss.

They walked down for a long time. At some point she stopped feeling the regular seams of worked stone and touched only the seamlessly rough walls of excavated earth. Eventually the staircase leveled out, and they walked down a short tunnel so round that a rod might have punched it out to make a circle within the rock. The tunnel opened into a broad chamber whose walls were illuminated by a small opening far above them. Plants had grown through the opening; roots dangled into empty air and twined along the ceiling, trying to gain purchase against the rock. Dust motes danced along the roof before they swirled into shadows.

The smooth floor descended down two high steps to an oval hollow that marked the meeting place, where the council members had congregated. They wore a bewildering variety of strange clothing: shifts stamped with colored patterns, feathers adorning their hair, sheaths studded with beads and colored stones bound around forearms and calves. Most of them wore some kind of cloak, pinned at one shoulder and draping down to mid-thigh. Each of the women wore a heavy jade ring piercing her nose, all except one.

They had exotic faces, broad across the cheekbones, reddish or bronze in their complexions. They looked nothing like the Wendish, but she could see Sanglant's heritage in every face there. There were not more than thirty, waiting for her in a chamber obviously large enough to command an audience of hundreds, yet somehow the chamber felt crowded, as if the shades of those who IOO had stood here in the past and who would stand here in the future filled the empty s.p.a.ces.

Silence reigned.

She stood beneath the wings of an eagle whose semblance had been carved out of the stone archway above the tunnel. Every person seated or standing within the chamber examined her. Yet when she compared their stern and even hostile expressions to Hugh's poisonous gaze, she could not fall into helpless terror. She had walked through the fire and survived.

Eldest Uncle shifted behind her, coughing gently.

In the center of the oval, seated on an eagle literally carved out of the stone floor, sat a very pregnant woman with a gloriously feathered cloak draped around her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a topknot. Alone of all the women, she wore no jade ring in her nose. Behind her stood the golden wheel, no longer turning because in this stone womb there was no wind. The emerald feathers tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the wheel glowed with a light of their own. Feather Cloak lifted a hand and beckoned Liath to come forward.

"I am here," Liath said in response to that languid gesture. She took a big step down, and then the second, to stand at the same level as the others. Lifting her hands, she opened them to show her palms out, empty." I come unarmed, as is your custom. Eldest Uncle comes with me, to show that I mean no harm to your people. In the language of my people, I am called Liathano, and I seek knowledge--"

That brought them to life.

"Let her be cast out!" shouted White Feather, the woman who had come to see Eldest Uncle." How dares she bring the name of our ancient enemy into this chamber?" The distinctive shield of white feathers bound into her hair shook as if in response to her anger, and her words unleashed the others, a chorus of discordant views, too rapid an exchange for Liath to see immediately which one spoke what words.

"It's treachery! Kill her at once!"

"Nay, I would hear her speak!"

"We cannot trust any child born of humankind-"

"We are few, and they are many. If we do not seek understanding now, then we will surely all perish."

"I want to know what Eldest Uncle means by bringing her here without the permission of the council. The human woman is nothing to us, however evil her name. It is Eldest Uncle who must stand before our judgment."

One stepped forward belligerently, hard to ignore because he was a strikingly attractive man clothed only in a cunningly-tied loincloth and a plain hip-length cloak and adorned by nothing more than a wooden mask carved into the shape of a snarling cat pushed back on top of his cropped hair. He had a powerful baritone." I say this to you, sisters and brothers: Let her blood be the first we spill. Let it, and the memory of the one who helped to ruin us, be used to strengthen us as we prepare to fight to take back what was once ours."

"Silence." They fell silent at once. Feather Cloak did not rise from her stone seat. Her crossed legs cradled her huge belly, which was half concealed by the stone eagle's head thrusting up from the floor. The feather cloak pooled over the wings of the bird, giving the woman the appearance of a creature both humanlike and avian. Under her light shift, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were swollen in the way of pregnant women, round and full, and Liath was struck by such a sharp jab of envy that she had to blink back tears.

Where was Blessing now? Who was caring for her?

Feather Cloak curved a hand around her belly." Remember that this child will be the first born on Earth since our exile. Shall it be born to know only war, or to know peace as well?"

"You have taken the Impatient One's counsel to heart!" snarled Cat Mask." She threw away her loyalty to her own people to go walking among humankind. You know what she did there!"

"You are only angry that she tossed your spear out of her house!" cried another young man, laughing unkindly after he spoke. He wore a mask carved in the shape of a lizard's head, elaborated with a curly snout." Very proud you are of that spear, and it galls you to think that another man-not just another man but a human man might have been allowed to bring his spear into her house!"

This insult triggered a flurry of mocking laughter among some of the others and a clash, like rams locking horns, between the two men that was only halted when a stout older man stepped between them.

Dressed more conservatively than the other men, with his chest covered by a tunic in the manner of the women, he made for an unsettling sight with a necklace of mandibles hanging at his chest and earrings fashioned to resemble tiny skulls dangling from either ear." The Impatient One chose negotiation over war." With a single finger on the chest of each of the young men, he pushed them apart as though they weighed no more than a child.

"We cannot negotiate with humankind," objected White Feather.

"What do you mean us to do?" asked an elderly woman in a deceptively sweet voice." We have dwindled. How many children are left to us, and how many among us remain capable even of bearing or siring a child? Where once our tribes filled cities, now we eke out a living in the hills, on the dying fields. If there is one left where ten stood before, then I am counting generously. We will be weak when we stand on Earth once more. We must seek accommodation."

Cat Mask gave a barking laugh of disgust." Accommodation is for fools! We have enough power to defeat them, even if we are few and they are many."

"So speaks the Impulsive One," retorted the old woman. She had a scar on her left cheek, very like a wound taken in battle. Her short tunic ended at her waist and below that she wore a ragged skirt, much repaired, striped with rows of green beads. Little white masks, all of them grinning skull faces, hung from her belt." I ask you, The-One-Who-Sits-In-The-Eagle-Seat, let the human woman walk forward and speak to us. I, for one, would hear what she has to say."

"Come forward," said Feather Cloak.

Liath walked forward cautiously. The council members moved as she walked, shifting position so that they stood neither too close nor too far, yet always able to see her face.

"Stand before me." Feather Cloak looked serious but not antagonistic. Liath felt it safe to obey her, under the circ.u.mstances." Closer. There." Closing her eyes, Feather Cloak rested a hand on Liath's hip. The touch was probing without being intrusive. Even through her tunic, Liath felt the cool smoothness of her hand, almost as if it melted into her.

And she was thrown, abruptly, into the trance she had learned from Eldest Uncle. She slid into it without warning, into that place where the architecture of existence dissolves into view. Dust motes dance, surrounded by empty s.p.a.ce, yet those motes are arranged in perfect order, a latticework of being that in its parts makes up all of her and yet, because it is invisible to the naked eye, seems to be nothing of what she actually is. In her mind's eye, the city of memory bloomed into view, on the hill, on the lake, and at its core burned the blue-white fire that consumes mountains- Feather Cloak jerked back with a gasp as her eyelids snapped open." She is not what she seems! More than one essence weaves itself within her." Her gaze flashed past Liath to Eldest Uncle." There is even something of you in her, Eldest Uncle. How can this be so?"

He merely shrugged.

"So often you refuse to answer me!" But Feather Cloak's frown seemed born as much of resigned amus.e.m.e.nt as irritation. Given the advanced stage of her pregnancy, Liath could well imagine that the Aoi woman might simply be exhausted. She spoke again to Liath." So, then, You-Who-Have-More-Than-One-Seeming, why have you come here?"

Liath displayed her empty palms." I hold no secrets here. I came to learn what I am."