PROLOGUE (90 page)

"Only because my father forbade it. I was captain of the King's Dragons. It was not my right to marry. Then."

"Maybe I'm wrong," she observed, rising to go to the unshuttered window.” You are not what you were." She leaned out on
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the ledge, hands braced on the wooden frame set into the stone opening. From the trundle bed Anna could not see what Waltharia was looking at, if indeed she was looking at anything except the sky and the stars. It was probably warmer outside than in. The stone walls had a way of holding damp and chill jealously inside them.

"What is she like? Your wife, I mean." "Do you envy her?"

She turned.” I suppose I would have, once. But you would have been too much trouble, even if I could have had you. My father was right about that. I needed a more compliant husband." Because he remained silent, she grinned delightfully and sat on the ledge. Wind stirred her hair.” He's a good man, Druthmar. Good enough."

"He acquitted himself ably today."

"So he did. But he isn't you. You're the best stallion in the king's stable. I can't help but admire so much handsome flesh. Especially when I discover it standing half naked at my trough." He laughed.” I needed a wash." "You can wash here. I can have water brought up." "You're the one who hasn't changed."

"Perhaps not. In the old days before the church of the Unities saved my ancestors from the Abyss, it was said that certain priestesses of my people mated with stallions in order to bring good luck to the tribe. I must be descended from one of them."

He came forward finally and threw himself down on the bed, lounging on his back with casual grace as he watched her. From her place in the trundle bed, Anna saw him outlined in lamp glow. The mellow light gave his tousled black hair a silky sheen.

Waltharia remained seated at the window.” You married a woman who claims to be the great granddaughter of Emperor Taillefer and who has also been excommunicated and outlawed for sorcery, one who hasn't been seen since she left Werlida in your company. In truth, nothing remains of her but the child. The same could be said, I suppose, about your mother."

His lips curled, although not in a smile.” What a great deal you know."

"Do I? It seems to me that the person who believes she knows a great deal most likely knows very little."

"A wise saying."

"My father taught me well." She walked to the table to pour herself a cup of cider, letting the rim of the cup linger at her mouth as she examined him over the lip.” What happened to your wife? Did you abandon her?"

His expression grew stiff.” More like she abandoned me. I have reason to believe she still lives. Whether she cares to return to me and the child I do not know. But you are right. The same could be said about my mother. How have you learned so much, out here in the marchlands?"

"I received a message from my father some weeks ago." She paused suggestively, lowering the cup. Anna almost sat up, eager to hear what would come next, but just in time she remembered that she was pretending to sleep.” He suggests that I support you as well as I am able."

"What does he mean by that?"

"What do you think he means? Why did you leave your father's court and turn your back on your father's authority?"

"Because he wouldn't listen to me. There is a cataclysm coming, and we must prepare for it."

"The folk who work my estates think the Quman raids are cataclysm enough."

"So they are, but they are nothing compared to what we will have to face."

She set down the cup and simply watched him for a while in silence. Anna examined her profile: a strong face, as proud as a margrave's heir must be but also clean Jike unstained linen. She had faint scars along her jaw below the mutilated ear, and a wine-colored birthmark in the hollow of her throat, easy to see from this angle, but nothing evil in her face, no hidden hatreds or petty jealousies. She knew what she possessed, and she wasn't afraid to rale what was hers.

"Of course, I am inclined to support you in any case, Sanglant."

"Are you?" He was either very drunk or very tired.

Her smile hadn't any answering softness in it.” We live in a time of troubles. Eika raid from the north while Quman strike at us from the east. Machteburg burned to the ground, did you hear that? For two years running there have been poor harvests in the marchlands. A hailstorm flattened a church south of here this spring. A two-headed lamb was born in Duchess Rotrudis' lands. A child here in Walburg was born with six fingers. Along the north coast a thousand birds washed up on the shore, all of them dead. Half of the fraters wandering in my lands speak heresy instead of truth, and the people listen to them. In a time of troubles, the land must have a strong leader."

"My father is a strong leader."

"So he is, but he thinks too much about Aosta and Taillefer's crown. We need a strong leader here in Wendar and the marchlands. Sapientia is weak, Theophanu is cold, and Ekkehard is young and by all reports foolish, if not already dead. But we march lords have not forgotten that Henry has one other child."

Sanglant had been resting his head on his hands, but now he pushed himself up.” What intrigue is Villam hatching?"

"My father loves Henry. No man loves the king better. But my father loves Wendar most of all." She fished into her sleeve and drew out a gold torque, holding it up. Its metal gleamed richly; light winked on the braided surface.” You no longer wear your gold torque, my lord prince. But you should."

He hissed sharply, taken aback by the precious ornament hanging so casually from her hand.

"I pray you," she went on, her voice sliding into a sweet languor as she dangled the torque from her fingers, "let me see how it becomes you."

Anna was old enough to understand what went on between men and women. That Sanglant was aroused was evident enough; he was flushed with more than the wine. Women were subtler but not always more difficult to interpret. Only a fool or a child would not have known what was on Waltharia's mind at this moment.

Blessing grunted in her sleep, rolled over, and nudged up against Anna, who squeezed her eyes shut and desperately tried to keep still even though Blessing's elbow was jabbed against her ribs.

"We wintered at Gent." That hoarse scrape in his voice gave his words a nostalgic tone but in truth, his voice always sounded like that.” There was a woman there, a servant in the palace. Frederun. She wept when I left."

"Thinking already of the gifts she would no longer get from you."

"No. She was genuinely sorry to see me go."

"So will I be, Sanglant." She spoke the words teasingly, but he did not respond in kind.

"That's not what I meant. It didn't seem right somehow, to use her that way. It seemed as though I'd offered her something she desperately wanted and then snatched it out of her hands."

"I don't understand you," said Waltharia impatiently.” I am a woman, just as she is. You know well enough what appeal you have to us, or at least you once knew it well enough to encourage our sighs and offers, and I know you have never suffered a lack of interest on our part. She was lucky you paid her any attention at all."

"Was she?" he murmured, but Waltharia either did not hear or did not reply. Sanglant sighed sharply. Blessing gave a snorting sigh as if in answer and rolled away, flinging an arm out as she shifted. She had grown into a remarkably unquiet sleeper. Lying still, Anna risked opening one eye. Sanglant still sat on the bed, looking intent but rather rumpled, as though he'd already taken a few rolls in the hay. He fingered his hair, playing with the tips, needing something to do with his restless hands.

"Where is my schola?" he asked at last.

"They were given my leave to sleep by the hearth in the hall this night."

At last he rose, walking to the window, leaning out to stare into the night just as Waltharia had done before him. His embroidered tunic showed off the breadth of his shoulders and the tapering line of his torso and hips. Anna was old enough now to note that men were good-looking. Sometimes she peeked at Matto, watching the changes overcome his youthful body, but she had never precisely thought of the prince himself in those terms. He was too old, and too high above her. The night breeze breathed in his hair, stirring black strands along his neck.

"It would be treason to rise against my father," he said to the night sky.

"Walburg is a stout fortress, Your Highness. I do not doubt I can bide here safely, despite war and famine. But my people will not do as well, and if they suffer, then what kind of steward am I? Will

there be anything left for my children, and my children's children, to rule? I cannot take that chance."

"I am not ready to take so bold a step." "Do not wait too long, Prince Sanglant." Her voice roughened, and not only from passion.” Your child is precious, but children are easily lost in times like these." He turned back, startled, to regard her. Tears shone in her eyes.” Our daughter was but two years of age when she died."

"I was never told. She was to be placed in a convent. That's all I heard. My father made it clear that was to be the end of it, as far as I was concerned."

"And so it was the end of it," she said bitterly.” Is the church not the proper place for an illegitimate child? When a stallion is brought in to breed a mare, isn't he returned afterward to his master?"

"What happened?"

Anna feared to breathe, seeing how still the prince stood and knowing how well he could hear.

After a moment, Waltharia continued.” Bandits fell upon the party that was escorting her to the cloister at Warteshausen. I had them hunted down and hanged, and let their corpses rot to nothing on the walls. But that did not bring back the child." She smiled bravely, wiped her face, and downed another cup of cider.” There," she finished, setting down the cup. It rang lightly on wood.” I had done grieving, until you reminded me. It happened four years past, not yesterday. I lost my second son to fever two winters ago, and I pray to God every dawn and every night that I shall not lose the other three." Anger made her tears wither and dry, a heat that wicked them away.” I will not risk Villam lands and all that my father has left in my care so that Henry may run to Aosta seeking an illusory crown among foreigners."

"You risk Henry's wrath if you counsel rebellion. You could lose everything, even your life."

The fever had passed, leaving her calm again, the kind of woman who rarely lost control and then only when she really, really wanted to and was prepared for the consequences. She displayed the gold torque again, tracing the curve of the braid sensuously with her finger. Sanglant, shuddering, shut his eyes. His hands, lying open against the stone ledge, curled into fists.

She smiled as at a challenge offered and accepted.” We march lords must be prepared for anything."

He stirred at the window, opening his eyes.” Is that an invitation, or a proposal?"

"It's whatever you take it to be. Will you wear the gold torque, my lord prince?"

THE Eika fleet sailed out of Rikin Sound before a fair wind, two hundred and twenty-three longships and forty-six knarrs, the big-bellied cargo ships that plied the northern seas. Behind them came eight ships of various size and shape, captained by human allies. These were mostly young men from the merchant colonies that now paid tribute to Stronghand, restless youths eager to make a fortune looting Alba's rich towns and heathen temples.

At first the weather favored them, but they had no sooner seen the shorebirds flying overhead, they had no sooner heard the first shout from the foremost ships, sighting the green hills of Alba, than a gale blew up from the southwest and scattered the fleet north and east.

Stronghand ordered his men to shorten their sails and they rode out the storm with ease, but it took six days for their merfolk allies to track down the scattered ships and escort them back to a rendezvous at the Cackling Skerries off the rugged northeastern coast of Alba, far from the southern lands where lay the most prosperous towns, fields, and temples.

He met with his commanders on Cracknose Rock. Their skiffs were beached in a narrow strand strewn with coarse rocks as grainy as pumice. Cracknose Rock lay at the center of the Skerries, a fist of stone thrusting up defiantly out of the sea. Climbing to the top, scrambling on rock split and cracked and seeping water from every crevasse and depression, Stronghand could see the fleet riding at anchor in the choppy waters, most of the ships pulled well

back from the scatter of rocky islets. Spray whipped off the sea. Breakers surged and sucked among the smaller rocks crowding like children about the foot of Cracknose. Dark clouds made iron of the sky. A pale promontory flashed in and out of view on the western horizon as a rainstorm occluded it at intervals.