He moved on, vanishing quickly into the streaming snow. After an interminable while in which she only knew she was walking because her legs moved, they came to a thrusting ridge that cut off the worst of the wind. Snow still swirled all around them, soft and abundant as it blanketed the ground.

The hostel had a main hall, crudely built but adequate enough for a sizable party of merchants, stables enough for some forty beasts, and a half dozen outbuildings and sheds. But it couldn't I house a king's army. Last night they had staked out their camp under the open sky in balmy autumn weather, with not a finger of snow on the ground, confident that the weather would hold for the five days it would take them to pa.s.s over the summit and begin their descent into Aosta.

The wagon driver was barely able to maneuver his team in beside a dozen others, crowded together just off the road. Hunching his shoulders against the cold, he swung down from the seat. A Lion hurried up and helped him cover the oxen's backs with a blanket. Then, with some of his fellows, he hunkered down in the lee of the wagon. There was nowhere else for the servants to go. Soldiers and clerics moved among the sick, helping those who could still walk into the stables. Of the dozen men languishing in the back of the wagon, three were already dead. She murmured a brief prayer over them through lips stiff with cold.

"Alas," murmured Fortunatus where he huddled beside her." I fear none of these sick men can survive the cold."

"If G.o.d will it, these poor souls will survive. If not, they'll gain a just reward."

"Truly, so shall it be," echoed Fortunatus.

When all was said and done, there was nothing she could do." Come," she said to Fortunatus." Let us attend the king."

Henry and his n.o.bles had taken refuge in the hall. The press of bodies made the place warm, although there were only two fires going in the hearths built into either end of the structure. Smoke raked her throat raw. So many people had crushed into the hall to escape from the storm that it was difficult to make her way to the king.

Henry had given pride of place in front of each of the hearths to certain captains and n.o.bles who had taken sick with the flux and to a few common soldiers known to him, Lions or members of his personal guard. With a ring of advisers he stood in the center of the hall holding court, discussing their desperate situation together with the wizened nun who was mother of the order who ran the hostel. As he drank ale straight out of a pitcher, he listened to the old woman, whose words were translated by a second nun.

"Nay, Your Majesty, when a storm comes sudden-like this time of year, it's not likely it'll clear up soon. When it does in a day or three, you'll find the snow too deep to cross."

Helmut Villam stood beside the king. He looked exhausted, worn through by the struggle to get out of the storm. Just a week ago he had shone with youth at the betrothal feast celebrated for him and his bride, young Leoba. Now he looked as old as he was, a full sixty years, as though the youthful vigor that had always before animated him had been sucked out of him by the bitter cold.

"But there was so little snow here this morning," he protested." Surely if we wait this out, we can make one more attempt to cross the pa.s.s before winter descends in earnest."

"That you may," agreed the nun." That you may. But I've served in these parts for well on thirty years, my lord. I know these storms. You'll not get across now until late spring. If you try, it'll go hard on your army, Your Majesty."

Henry took another quaff of ale as he considered these tidings. Abruptly Rosvita's feet began to hurt so horribly, as though a thousand tiny knives were cutting into her soles, that she staggered and would have fallen had Fortunatus not caught her.

Henry saw her. He sent one of his Lions to open up a stool for her to sit on. Ale was brought, and she drank gratefully. For a while, as the murmur and flow of disparate conversations swirled around her as thickly as the snow had done outside, she sat with her head bowed, catching her breath and gritting her teeth as pain flared and subsided in her feet.

After a while, a servant unwrapped her leggings and uncovered her feet. Her toes felt frozen through. Fortunatus knelt before her and chafed her feet between his hands until tears ran down her cheeks.

Through the haze of pain, she heard Henry speaking.

"Nay, we can't risk it. The season is late. To be defeated by the mountains is no dishonor to us. We can't stay here since there isn't shelter enough for everyone. We must retreat to Bederbor and live off Conrad's bounty for the winter."

"He'll give that grudgingly," remarked Villam.

"So he will," agreed Henry." We'll make good use of his hospitality to remind him of the loyalty that is due to his regnant. But this way we can keep the army strong. When the pa.s.ses clear next year, we'll march south and catch Ironhead unawares. Yet surely, Helmut, you'll be glad of one more winter in the north. We'll send for your bride, and she can keep your bed warm!"

Laughter followed this sally, and the mood in the hall lightened considerably. Such was the king's power.

Her feet p.r.i.c.kled mightily, as though stung by a hundred bees." I pray you, Brother, that is enough!"

Fortunatus regarded her with a grim smile." Better than losing your toes, Sister, is it not? Can you ride?"

She flexed her feet and found that although they still hurt, she could move them and even set her weight upon them without undue pain.

"This is ill news," she said to him, "that we must wait until next year to march to Aosta. Where is the queen?"

Henry had moved away toward the door to direct his captains to start an orderly retreat toward Bederbor. Rosvita got to her feet and tested them gingerly, but found them sound enough. Through the milling crowd she caught sight of Adelheid in a corner, sitting on one of the beds built in under the rafters. She was vomiting into a basin held by a serving woman.

"Your Majesty!" Rosvita hastened forward, alarmed. Just in this way did the flux first afflict its victims. But as she reached Adel-heid's side, the young queen straightened up with a wan smile and allowed a servant to wipe her face.

"Nay, it's nothing dangerous." The queen reached out to grasp Rosvita's hands. Adelheid's hands were warm despite the cruel storm raging outside which she had so recently escaped. Her grip had unusual strength, and her eyes held a gleam of triumph as she glanced past Rosvita toward her husband, whose head could be seen above the others in the crowd." I believe that I am pregnant."

ONE ruined Dariyan fort looked much like any other. Sanglant led his men north through Wayland following the ancient trail of the Dariyan invasion, laid down hundreds of years ago. The forts had lasted far longer than the empire.

This night, as every night, after he made sure Blessing slept, he walked the perimeter to greet each soldier standing sentry on first watch. A jest exchanged with Sibold, a comment on the weather by Everwin, an astute observation about the landscape from Wracwulf, and he moved on. By the time he returned to the camp-fire, both Zacharias and Heribert were asleep, rolled up tightly in their cloaks under cover of a half fallen roof. Heribert had shoved aside broken tiles to make s.p.a.ce for Sanglant, but the prince was, as usual, too restless to sleep. He sat brooding by the fire.

A quiet wind brushed all the clouds away. Under the clear sky cold crept in, chasing away the dregs of summer. The bitter stars reminded him of Liath, for she would have loved a night such as this, so clear and cold that the stars seemed twice as bright and a hundred times more numerous than usual. The three jewels, Diamond, Citrine, and Sapphire, burned overhead as the Queen drove the Guivre down into the western horizon. The River of Souls streamed across the zenith. Did Liath walk there now? Could she see him? But when he spoke her name softly onto the breeze, he heard no answer.

They kept their secrets well.

After a while the waning moon rose to wash the sky with silver light. He heard them before the sentries did: a m.u.f.fled yip, softly signaling, and the brush of fur against dry leaves, perhaps a tail dragged along a bush. He jumped up to his feet just as Jerna unwound herself from Blessing's sling and shot away into the air. With sword in hand, he followed the aery daimones' form, a shimmering streak against the night sky, to the fort's wall, which stood chest-high. Wracwulf greeted him briefly, alert enough to notice how Sanglant's gaze ranged over the forest cover. The soldier, too, turned to survey the woodland.

Three wolves emerged from the undergrowth in that silence known only to wild things. The sentry hissed, but Sanglant laid a stilling hand on the soldier's arm. A fourth wolf ghosted out of the trees a stone's throw to the left. They came no closer, only watched. Their amber eyes gleamed in moonlight.

Wracwulf raised his spear. A bowstring creaked from farther down the wall, where Sibold stood watch.

"Don't shoot!" cried Sanglant.

Shouts and the alarm broke out in camp. The wolves vanished O into the trees. Sanglant spun and, drawing his sword, sprinted back to camp to find the soldiers risen in agitation, whispering like troubled bees. They had gathered near Blessing's sling, but the commotion had not troubled her; she slept soundly.

"Your Highness!" Captain Fulk leveled his spear at a dark figure which stood next to the sleeping baby.

"Who's this?" demanded Sanglant, really angry now, because fear always fueled anger.

The man stepped out of the shadows. His hair had the same silvery tone as the moonlight that bathed him in its soft light." When I realized it was you, Prince Sanglant, I had to see the child "

"Wolfhere!"

The old Eagle looked tired, and he walked with a p.r.o.nounced limp. His cloak and clothing were neat enough, but his boots were scuffed and dirty. An overstuffed pack lay on its side on the ground behind him.

"Your Highness." He examined the soldiers surrounding him with a smile so thin that Sanglant could not tell whether he were amused or on the point of collapse." I feel as welcome as if I'd jumped into a bed of thistles."

Fulk did not lower his spear. The point hovered restlessly near the Eagle's unprotected belly." This man is under the regnant's ban."

"Is that so?" asked Sanglant amiably.

"Alas, so it is," Wolfhere admitted cheerfully enough." I left court without the king's permission. When my horse went lame, I was unable to commandeer another."

"Sit down." Now that any immediate danger to Blessing was past, Sanglant could enjoy the irony of the situation." I would be pleased to hear your tale. In any case it seems you are now in my custody. It is well for you, I suppose, that I do not currently rest in the king's favor either."

"Nay, so you do not. That much gossip, at least, I heard on the road here." Wolfhere's mask of sage detachment vanished as he spoke again, a remarkable blend of anxiety and agitation flowering on that usually closed face." Where is Liath?"

"Captain Fulk," said Sanglant, "have a fire built over by the well.-I would speak with the Eagle alone. Set a double guard over my daughter."

Most of the soldiers went back to their rest. The prince led Wolfhere over to a freshly built fire, snapping brightly in a niche laid into the stone wall that had once, perhaps, held an idol, or weapons set ready for battle.

Wolfhere sighed sharply as he sat down, grateful for a cup of ale and a hunk of bread." I'm not accustomed to walking," he said, to no one in particular." My feet hurt."

As Sanglant settled down on a fallen stone, opposite Wolfhere, Heribert hurried up, rubbing his eyes. Wolfhere glanced at him, seeing only the robe, and then looked again, a broad double take that would have been comical had he not leaped up with an oath and tipped over the precious ale.

"How came he here?" he demanded.

"He's my counselor, and my friend." Sanglant gestured to Heribert to sit beside him. Because Wolfhere did not sit, Heribert did not either, hovering beside Sanglant rather like a nervous bird about to flap away.

"You're aware of what manner of man this is?" Wolfhere asked.

"Very much so. I would trust him with my life. And with my daughter's life, for that matter."

"Condemned by a church council for complicity in acts of black sorcery! The b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of Biscop Antonia!"

"Then, truly, I would be first to condemn him, being a b.a.s.t.a.r.d myself." Sanglant grinned sharply but, glancing at Heribert, he saw that the cleric had gone as stiff as a man who expects in the next instant to receive a mortal blow." That argument holds no water for me, Wolfhere. Heribert has long since honored me with the truth about his birth and upbringing, although I admit that he's never known who his father was." Wolfhere began to speak, but Sanglant lifted a hand." Don't try to turn me against him. I know far more of Heribert's inner heart and loyalties than I do of yours!"

Wolfhere's usually calm facade cracked even further to reveal indignation and a glimpse of wrenching pain." Is it true that Biscop Antonia has gone to Anne and been taken into the Seven Sleepers?"

"So I swear by Our Lady and Lord," murmured Heribert, "for I was with Biscop Antonia when we escaped your custody, Eagle, as you well remember. When we came to Verna by various complicated paths, Anne took my mother's pledge to serve as-" He broke off to stifle a giggle as a child might when it came to laughing over a much-hated adult's discomfiture." -as seventh and least of her order."

Distantly, a wolf howled. Jerna whispered above the prince, sluicing down on the breeze to curl protectively around his shoulders. Her touch was soft and cool. Two sentries bantered over by the outer wall as they changed watch.

At that moment, Sanglant understood the whole. As if sensing his growing anger, Jerna slipped away into the air. He rose slowly, using his height to intimidate." You know them, then, Anne and the others." He didn't need to make it a question." You've been one of them all along, and never loyal to my father, or to his father before him. Never loyal to your Eagle's oath."

This was too much for Wolfhere." Don't mock what you don't understand, my lord prince! King Arnulf trusted me, and I served him until the day he died. I never betrayed Wendar." Agitated, he continued in a choked voice as he sank down onto the stone block with the weariness of a man who has walked many leagues only to find his beloved home burned to the ground." Ai, Lady! That it should come to this! That Anne should be willing to use evil tools in a good cause. Have I misjudged her all this time?"

"Does this surprise you?" demanded Sanglant." Liath and I were her prisoners for many months. It does not surprise me."

"You were not her prisoners! Liath was-" Here Wolfhere halted, breaking off with an anguished grimace.

Sanglant finished for him." Her tool. Even her daughter was only a tool to her. Did Anne ever love her?"

Wolfhere covered his eyes with a hand. The pain in his voice was easy to hear." Nay, Anne never loved her. Bernard was the one who loved her."

"Anne killed him in order to get Liath back." "Bernard took what wasn't his to have! It may even be possible he meant well, but he was horribly and dangerously misguided and full of himself, never listening to any voice but his own. He damaged Liath by hiding her from those who understood what she is and the power that is her birthright. We had no choice but to do what we did to get her back!"

Hands in fists, he rose and paced to the fire, staring into it as though he could see memories within the flames. At last he looked up." Liath isn't here, is she?" The old Eagle seemed ready to strangle on the words." Verna lay abandoned when I reached it, everything in ruins, and Anne had left already with the survivors."

"You did not follow her?"

"Crossing the mountains on foot at this time of year? I haven't the skills to travel as Anne may, walking the stones. G.o.d's mercy, Prince Sanglant, where is Liath?"

Sanglant had to close his eyes to shut away the memory. He could not speak of it; the pain still burned too deep and if he spoke he knew he would break down into sobs.

Heribert touched him, briefly, on the arm before stepping forward." I had already left," he said softly, "so I did not witness the conflagration myself, but my lord prince has told me that unearthly creatures with wings of flame walked into the valley through the stone circle and took Liath away with them."

"Even the stone burned," whispered Sanglant hoa.r.s.ely. The sight of the mountains washed in flame had stamped itself into his mind, so that even with his eyes shut he gained no respite. Splendid and terrible, the creatures had destroyed Verna without seeming even to notice that it was there.

"Ai, G.o.d." Wolfhere's sigh cut the silence. He simply collapsed like a puppet whose strings have gone lax, folding down to sit cross-legged on the dirt with the fire casting shadow and light over his lined face and pale hair.

Sanglant waited a long time, but Wolfhere still did not speak. After a bit, the prince called to Matto and had the boy fill the empty cup with ale. Wolfhere took the cup gratefully and drained it before devouring a second wedge of bread and a corner of cheese. After Matto retreated, Heribert finally sat down. His movement released the words that Wolfhere had clearly been holding back.

"All those years, Anne and I, raised together in the service of a common goal. I was taken from my parents as a child of six to serve her. I thought I knew her better than any other could, even Sister Clothilde, who was never privy to all of Anne's youthful dreams and wishes, not like I was. Anne was always more pure and exalted than the rest of us. I never thought she would league herself with a maleficus like Antonia, who raised galla out of the stones with the blood of innocents, fed living men to a guivre, and did not scruple to sacrifice her own loyal clerics to further her selfish aims." Heribert winced at these words but said nothing, and Wolfhere-who wasn't looking at him-went on." We were not raised to use such means and to league ourselves with the minions of the Enemy! How can Anne have taken such a person into her confidence, and given her even greater powers?"

"Such are the chains binding those who rule," retorted Sanglant." The great princes use whatever sword comes to hand. Isn't this merely quibbling? If your plan succeeds, then all of the Aoi will die anyway. What matters it what tools you use, when killing is your goal?"

"It matters that the cause be just. It matters that our enemies are wicked. It matters that our efforts be honorable and that our hearts do not turn away from holiness."

"Drowning an infant is honorable and holy? You've never denied that you tried to murder me when I was just a suckling baby."

"I did what I thought was right at the time."

Sanglant laughed angrily." It gladdens my heart to hear you say so! Why, then, do you suppose that I will let you dwell even one night near my daughter, whom you might feel called upon to attempt to murder in her turn! Anne would have let her starve to death. How are you any better than that? You are welcome to leave, and return to Anne who, I am sure, will be glad enough to see you."

The moonlight washed Wolfhere's face to a striking pallor." It was easy enough to drown an infant before I knew what it was to love one. You must believe me, my lord prince. I cared for Liath as much as I was allowed to, when she was a child. But Anne did not think it right that we love her, that we weaken ourselves or her in such a manner. Only Bernard did not heed her. Bernard never heeded her." He turned his head sharply to one side as though he had just been slapped." I gave Anne everything, my life, my loyalty. I never married or sired children. I never saw my family again. What did faithless Bernard care for all that? He stole everything I loved."

Examining Wolfhere's face, Sanglant simply could not tell whether he was acting, like a poet declaiming a role, or sincere. Did the outer seeming match the inner heart?

"This is a touching confession, but I am neither cleric nor frater to grant you absolution." Sanglant let the irony linger in his voice as Wolfhere regarded him, calmer now that the flood of words had abated but still agitated." Many things have been said of you, but I have never heard it said that you are gullible, or naive."

"Nay, I was most gullible of all. It troubled me that Anne made no effort to love the child, but I refused to let myself think on what it might mean about her heart. But now I fear my doubts were justified. Anne is not the person I thought she was."

The prince lifted both hands in disgust, crying surrender as he began to laugh." I am defenseless against these thrusts. Either you are the most shameless liar I've ever encountered or you have come to your senses at last and can see that Anne cannot be trusted. What she plans is wrong. She is the wicked one. How can you or I know what the Lost Ones intend? Do they want peace, or war? Have they plotted long years to get their revenge, or were they the victims of human sorcery long ago, as my mother claimed? Anne intends some spell to defeat them. Tell me what she means to do."

For a long time Wolfhere regarded the moon. Its light bathed the wall behind them until the stone shone like marble, revealing flecks of paint, red, blue, and gold, and the malformed figures common to old Dariyan forts: creatures with the bodies of women and the heads of hawks or snakes or lions. A wolf howled in the distance, as a companion might call out advice to one in need." I cannot. My gifts are few. Nor have I ever been privy to the deepest councils, or understood the full measure of the mathematici's art. I am not n.o.bly born as you are, my lord prince." Was that sarcasm, or only the cutting blade of truth? "I was raised to serve, not to rule."

"Then why follow me instead of Anne, after you saw what transpired at Verna? What do you want from me?"

Wolfhere considered the question in silence. It was a mark of his sagacity that he could not be hurried, although by now Sanglant felt the urge to pace itch up and down his legs. Finally he gave in to it, taking two strides to the wall and tracing the attractive curve of a woman's carven body with a finger. He had reached such a pitch of excitement that each grain of stone seemed alive under his touch. He noticed what he was doing, that his fingers rested on the bulge of a breast, and quickly pulled back his hand and trapped it under his other arm.

At last, Wolfhere shook himself as a wolf might, emerging from water." I don't know. I want to find Liath, my lord prince."

"As do I. But what do you mean to do with her, should you find her? Take her back to Anne? Is that what Anne commanded you to do?"

"Nay. I was meant to follow Anne and the others from Verna, but I could not bring myself to, not after what I had seen there. So much destruction! The monks at the hostel had seen a man fitting your description walking north. It was easy enough to follow you and your mother, although not so easy to avoid the notice of the king's soldiers as King Henry and his army marched south."

"Where did Anne go?"

Wolfhere hesitated.

The prince took a half step forward. An arm's length was all that separated the two men now: the old Eagle, and the young prince who had once been a Dragon." Tell me the truth, Wolfhere, and I'll let you travel with me if that's your wish. I'll let you help me look for Liath, for you must know that there is nothing I want more than to find her."

Wolfhere examined him. The firelight played over his expression, brushing light and dark across his features as if one never quite overpowered the other." How do you mean to look for Liath, my lord prince, when it took eight years for Anne and me to find her before? With what magic do you intend to seek out a woman stolen away by unearthly creatures who fly on wings of flame?"

"If she loves me and the child," said Sanglant grimly, "she'll find a way back to us. Won't she? Isn't that the test of love and loyalty?"

"Perhaps. But what do you intend to do meanwhile? You didn't ride south with your father's army. Had you done so, you would discover soon enough that Anne and the others traveled south to Darre."

"Ah! Is that why Anne sent you? To spy on me? Very well. I'll take up her challenge, because I mean to defeat her now that I understand what she is and what she means to do to my mother's kin." As usual, now that Sanglant knew what his objective was, a plan unfolded before him." I'll need griffin feathers and sorcerers to combat her magic. And an army."