PROLOGUE (52 page)

"Nay, nay," said Sanglant, lifting a hand. She broke off, flushing hotly again.” Truly, you have earned the prosperity you now enjoy. I will not disturb you any longer. If Lord Hrodik can see to it that I am supplied with twenty stout wool cloaks for my company, then I will ask nothing more of you."

"Do not think me ungrateful, Your Highness, I pray you." At last, she lifted her gaze to meet his. With his words, she had allowed herself to relax. The play of lantern light over her face made the curve of her full lips and the quiet brilliance of her eyes most striking, so that even Zacharias felt a stirring of desire. Sanglant gave a sharp sigh.” Do not find me unmindful of the roses of summer," she said, "which can never be reclaimed although we recall their scent and sweetness and beauty with an ardent heart."

"You have my leave to depart," the prince said irritably.” You as well, Hrodik." But as they turned to go, he called out.” Nay, stop a moment. Who is that girl?" He indicated one of Suzanne's party. The girl had nothing of obvious interest about her except an odd burnt butter complexion, as though she had been dipped in a tanning vat. Mostly grown, not quite a woman but no longer a child, she stepped forward fearlessly to confront the prince. The top of her head didn't even come to his shoulder.

"I know you," he said, almost dreamily.

Heribert stepped forward.” She was the child who followed you down into the crypt, my lord prince."

"Nay, true enough, but I know her. /
know her.
What is your name, child?"

"She is mute, Your Highness." Mistress Suzanne stood protectively behind the child, setting a hand on her shoulder.” Her name is Anna. She and her brother Matthias escaped from Gent long after the Eika had taken it. How they survived there for all those months I do not know, but they got free of Gent through the intervention of St. Kristine and came to Steleshame. I brought them with me to Gent as part of my household. Her brother Matthias is betrothed to one of my younger weavers. He's now a journeyman at the tannery."

"You're the daimone," said the girl suddenly in a voice as hoarse as the scrape of sandpaper.

Suzanne shrieked, and her family began talking all at once, crowding forward to touch the girl.

"Ai, God," Suzanne said through tears.” She's not spoken a word for two years."

"Sanglant?" Heribert rushed forward to lay a hand on the prince's arm. Zacharias, too, pressed forward to stand beside the prince, because Sanglant looked utterly stunned, as though an unexpected blow had slammed into his head.

Blessing woke up and began to cry, frightened by all the noise.” Dada! Dada! I want Dada!"

"Ai, God," Sanglant murmured, "it wasn't a dream at all. Those two children, the boy with the knife and the girl with the wooden Circle of Unity hanging at her chest. I thought it was a delusion."

Blessing wailed. She had the lungs for it, a voice to pierce the clamor of battle. The girl, Anna, got to her first, picked her up, and carried her over to her father. Sanglant took her without thinking. Blessing hid her face against his shoulder and, with a few hiccuping cries, lapsed into silence.

"Haven't you a nursemaid for this child?" the girl called Anna demanded, looking around the chamber. Although Zacharias could feel the familiar snap, like the taste of lightning in the air, that he had come to recognize as Jerna's presence, he could not see the aery daimone at all. But he felt the current of wind that marked her trail.

Yet that wind grew stronger, and stronger still, as though someone had opened shutters facing into a storm. An unnatural whirlpool of milky air spun into existence in the center of the room. Jerna flickered into view above it.

In these last months as Blessing grew with unnatural speed and ate porridge and cheese more while nursing less, Jerna had in contrast begun to lose that womanlike mimicry that had made her seem more substantial before. In a way, it seemed as if Blessing's need had helped shape Jerna's human form. Now the daimone only vaguely resembled a pale woman creature with the tone and texture of water.

The pool of light had nothing to do with Jerna. It was something entirely
other,
a sorcerous manifestation right there in the middle of the chamber.

Shrieks and shouts erupted as the gathered people shrank back in fright. Zacharias could not tell what frightened them more: Jerna's wispy form, or the strange whirlpool of light pouring brightness into the chamber. Blessing reared back, clapping her hands over her ears. Hrodik's steward had fallen down to the floor in a faint, and young Matto tried to haul him up to his feet so he wouldn't be trampled.

A sound emerged as a faint murmur, emanating from the whirlpool of light.

"Sanglant."

"Silence!" cried Sanglant in the ringing tones of a man accustomed to shouting orders above the chaos of battle.

Silence fell like a shroud. For an instant it was so quiet that Zacharias thought he had gone deaf, but then Hrodik giggled nervously.

The whirlpool spoke.” Sanglant.
Blessing?"

Blessing twisted around in her father's grasp and reached toward the eddying light, opening like an unshuttered window onto a place lying far beyond the walls of this world.” Mama! Mama come!"

"Ai, God!" Sanglant's voice sounded ragged with hope, and pain.” Liath?" He took a step forward.” I can't see you. Where are you?"

Zacharias saw nothing through that window of light but a hard glare, like staring into a vale of ice when the cold winter sun dazzles you. Was this truly the woman he sought? Where was she?

The voice spoke again.” Sanglant, if you can hear me, know that I am living, but I am on a long journey and I do not know how long it will take me."

"Come back to us, Liath!" cried Sanglant desperately.

"Wait for me, I beg you. Help me if you can, for I'm lost here. I need a guide. Is Jerna there?" A dark shape moved through the icy gleam, one arm outstretched and the other thrown up before its eyes. A blue light winked and dazzled on the outstretched hand, and on the figure's back hung a bow, visible because of fiery fire-red salamanders sliding up and down the inner curve of the bow. The figure reached. For an instant it seemed she would pass right through the curtain of light. Zacharias gasped and leaped back, slamming into Heribert, as Sanglant jumped forward to grab for her.

"Take my hand, Liath!" His hand swiped through empty air.

She said, "Yes! I see you!" just as Jerna's silvery form spun

down from the ceiling to wrap protectively around Blessing's body.” Come if you will, Jerna. Return to your home. The way is open."

The daimone spilled like water all down Blessing's body, soaking her in light and in the aetherical substance of her aery form. Blessing cried out in surprise and delight; a moment later, Jerna coiled into a slender reed, twisted, and vanished through the window of light.

The whirlpool collapsed as Sanglant leaped after her. He landed hard in the middle of the carpet, looking, if truth be told, a little foolish. Blessing laughed and clapped her hands, as though it had all been a trick for her amusement, but her father was white at the mouth, almost rigid. Blessing sobered, looking frightened by the man holding her with such a look of wretched anger on his face.

Heribert pushed past Zacharias and grabbed the whimpering child out of her father's arm. As though that movement freed him, Sanglant whirled around, grabbed the chair, and hoisted it.

He smashed it against the floor.

Splintered wood flew everywhere. Mistress Suzanne and her household fled the chamber. Even Lord Hrodik stumbled out in their wake.

Zacharias took a step forward to calm the prince, but Heribert stopped him with a gesture.

"But not for me!" cried Sanglant.” The way is open, but not for me! Do I mean nothing to her that she should call someone else in my place?" He hoisted what remained of the heavy chair in his right hand, making ready to smash it again, when the girl, Anna, stepped right out in front of him. She hadn't fled with the others, nor did she show any fear.

"Are you truly a daimone from the heavens?" she asked in that scrape of a voice.” Is that why you want to return there?"

The wrath of King Henry was famous throughout the land. Nobles feared the king's anger for good reason, although Henry was said to use it sparingly. Surely Prince Sanglant was the most easygoing of noblemen, or so Zacharias had come to believe. For the first time, he saw the regnant's anger full in the prince's face, forbidding and intimidating, and it made him step back beside Heribert, who spoke soothingly to the sniveling Blessing. She had never seen her father so angry before.

Anna just stood there, waiting.

Sanglant opened his hand and with a shuddering breath let the chair drop. It hit the carpet with a thud, clattering on the shards of its broken legs.

It was suddenly very quiet. The coals in the brazier shifted, ash spilled, and the fire made a wheezing sound, quickly stifled. The torches blazed back up, as if Sanglant had sucked the flame out of them to fuel his anger, but probably it was only the backwash from the aetherical wind that had driven into the chamber and vanished as abruptly. The room looked very ordinary with its two handsomely carved chests, for storage, and the tapestries on the wall depicting the usual noble scenes: a hunt, a feast, an assembly of church women.

Sanglant stepped past the girl and walked to the side table. He poured water from a pitcher into a copper basin, splashed his face until water ran down his chin to drip into the basin, and swiped a hand across his beardless chin. Without thinking, he licked the drops of water off his palm. His back remained stiff with anger, or despair.” Not an hour goes by that I do not think of her," he said to the basin, "yet does she call for me? Does she seek me? She lives, but she journeys elsewhere. Just like my mother."

"Have you a nursemaid for the child?" the girl asked in her funny little voice.

"I had one," he said bitterly, "but my wife took her from me."

"I can care for children."

"We are riding east to war, child. There will be no fine carpets and warm feet with my company. I've no use for camp followers who slow me down, and who run at each least glimpse of danger."

She had a hard stare, like a young hawk's. In a way she reminded Zacharias of Hathui: fearless, sharp, confident, and irritatingly persistent.” I survived a spring and summer in Gent when Bloodheart ruled here. I'm not afraid."

The prince regarded her with a half-forgotten smile on his face. She stared right back at him. She had her hair pulled back in a braid, and she wore a good wool tunic, neatly woven, with two roses embroidered at the collar for decoration. A wooden Circle of Unity hung at her chest.

At the door, Matto cleared his throat.” My lord prince? Here is the weaver returned to speak to you."

Mistress Suzanne appeared at the threshold, her face drawn and her hands wringing the fabric of her skirt as she sidled into the chamber.” Your Highness, I—Ach, Anna! There you are! I thought we'd lost you."

"I'm going east," said Anna stoutly.” I'm to be the nursemaid for the young princess."

"But, Anna—!"

"It's a sign, don't you see? Why else would God have given me back my voice now?"

"I pray you, Mistress Suzanne," said Sanglant.” Outfit the girl with what she needs, and return her here in the morning. I'll see that she is well taken care of."

Even a prosperous weaver could not argue with a prince. Subdued but obedient, Mistress Suzanne took the girl and left.

"Want down, want down," insisted Blessing as she squirmed out of Heribert's arms. She rushed over to her father, seeking solace, and he picked her up.

"I pray you, Matto," he said, cuddling his daughter against him, "the helmet needs repadding. Have Captain Fulk see to it. We'll fit it more exactly tomorrow. I'll want more water for washing." Matto nodded and quickly fetched pitcher and helmet before leaving the chamber.” Zacharias."

"Yes, my lord prince."

"We'll need a straw pallet for the girl. Sergeant Cobbo can see to it."

Zacharias glanced at Heribert, but the cleric only gave a puzzled shrug. With a bow, Zacharias left on the errand.

Unaccustomed to palaces, he quickly got lost, but a sympathetic servingman directed him to the servants' hall. He passed through the mostly deserted hall and found a door that led outside. The hush of early evening hung over the courtyard. Stars glittered overhead. An unrelenting cold seeped through his clothes to chill his bones. His old scars ached, and he suddenly had to pee. Looking for a private place where no one might accidentally see his mutilation, he finally stumbled up to the door of the cookhouse, meaning to ask for directions to the privies.