PROLOGUE (97 page)

"Many a child cries for its mother," said Sanglant, smoothly slipping into her rant, "but weeping for what we don't have won't defeat the Quman. Come, Sapientia, here is my daughter Blessing, your niece."

Aunt and niece eyed each other. Sapientia had weathered her first extended campaign well. She had filled out, gained color, and moved with more confidence. But as she examined Blessing, he saw the old dance of envy waning with interest in her gaze.” I thought she looked like you. But this can't be the Eagle's child. She's too old. Did you father her on some concubine before your imprisonment at Gent?"

He had learned to resign himself to the questions. Sometimes, the best answer was the simple truth.” Do not forget that sorcery runs in her blood. I can explain no better than you why she grows so fast. She was bom in the spring, last year." , "She looks like a well-grown girl of three or four years of age,"

objected Sapientia, "not a toddling child of fifteen or sixteen months."

"So she does." He had learned to hide his fear. He did not understand what was happening to his daughter. At first he'd believed that the unearthly milk she imbibed from Jerna caused her to grow with unnatural speed, and maybe it had. But Jerna had left them, and Blessing still aged far more quickly than she ought. He had a bad idea that it would not end until Liath returned, as if a link bound Liath and Blessing so closely that what happened to one rebounded onto the other. If Liath only knew that, would she not return to spare her daughter?

She would, if she cared for them at all.

At moments like this, he wondered where his own mother had gone. Alia had deserted him, too—for the second time.

"You are a princess." Blessing had remained silent long enough. Sapientia did not quite recoil.” I am King Henry's heir." "Oh," said Blessing appreciatively, oblivious to these nuances, "I like him. He's my grandfather." Because she was a child who didn't mind sharing, she went on.” I am the heir of Emperor Taillefer."

"Does she say that to everyone?" asked Bayan as Sapientia's mouth pursed with disapproval and she looked ready to say something rash.

"Only to those who deserve it. Come, sweet heart, where is the man you saw?"

Blessing grabbed his hand and, after a moment's studious thought, grabbed Bayan's hand as well.” This way!"

Even Sapientia laughed.” She is indeed Henry's granddaughter."

"Since you are a princess," called Blessing as she dragged her escorts forward, "will you help me get the man?"

Anger sparked as quickly as amusement in Sapientia's face.” Not one to listen to others, no matter whose need is greater. We could use these men in the army, and a few of these women, too, if they're willing and strong enough."

"An excellent idea," cried Bayan.” My lion queen has a keen eye for worth. It is you who must pick out the ones who can fight and serve."

"Think you so?" she asked, a flush making her cheeks bright as she turned to gaze at her husband. Sanglant had seen besotted women before; his sister looked no different, although she managed to keep her noble dignity intact as they walked together into the market.

Sanglant had never thought much one way or the other about merchants who trafficked in slaves. The heathen Jinna empire and the crafty Arethousans had an unending appetite for slaves, preferably boys cut to become eunuchs. Neither did Wendish merchants shy away from selling captured heathen tribespeople out of the east into servitude in the civilized west. These merchants had other wares available as well: linen and wool cloth; furs from the north; casks of salt; spoons of wood or ivory or tin; sickles, scythes, and hatchets of iron; whores, herbs, and spices, some more sweet smelling than others. But after a year confined by Bloodheart's chains, Sanglant could not help but notice the suffering of their human merchandise.

Blessing tugged him and Bayan over to a ragged group of captives bound hand and foot. They had the look of defeated soldiers, the kind of troublemakers who needed to be trussed up so they couldn't escape on the long march.

A Polenie merchant hurried up, bobbing up and down anxiously as he took in Sanglant's Wendish clothing and noble bearing and Bayan's Ungrian flair. He wore the typical Polenie hat, a pointed leather cap with a folded brim.” Your Most Excellencies," he cried in passable Wendish, "here have I strong men who I take south to the slave markets of Arethousa. Have you a care to purchase them now? I can give you good price."

Blessing marched up to the youngest of the captives, a lad of perhaps sixteen years with a blackened eye, bare feet, and the scarring of frostbite on his nose and ears.” I told you I would come back." She turned to the merchant, expression fierce.” Thiemo is mine."

"My lady—" began the merchant, glancing at Sanglant, not wanting to insult a prince's daughter.

The youth began to weep, although it was hard to tell whether his tears were those of joy or thwarted hope.” My lady, is it true? Have you come to ransom me and my comrades?" Then he, too, noticed Sanglant and Bayan.

"Your Highness!" cried the lad, flushing hotly. Five of the men

o

with him dropped hard to their knees. Under their dirt, Sanglant recognized the tabards of Lions.

"God save us," murmured Bayan.” The heretics." Sapientia came up beside Bayan. She frowned, and when she narrowed her eyes in that particular way one could almost actually see her thinking.” Can it be? Are these the heretics banished after the trial at Handelburg? How did they get here? Where are the rest of them?"

"Dead," said the eldest of the Lions.” Or better dead, considering what we ran into. Your Highness." He bowed his head respectfully toward Sanglant.” I know you are Prince Sanglant. It's said you're a fair man. I pray you—

"Daddy, I want him."

"I don't know." Sapientia wrung her hands.” Biscop Alberada excommunicated them for heresy. How can we go against the church? We could be excommunicated, too. It's God's judgment upon them that they be sold into slavery as punishment for their sins." But she wasn't sure. Sanglant saw how she looked at Bayan, waiting to see what he would say. She was afraid to pass judgment herself.

Sanglant turned to the merchant.” These men are King Henry's Lions. I will ransom them from you for a fair price."

"One nomia apiece," said the merchant instantly.

"Remember," said Sanglant with a warning smile, "that I have an army and you have twenty guards. I could take them as easily as buy them, and since we stand on Wendish ground, I would be well within my rights to restore their freedom because they are Henry's sworn soldiers."

"Forsworn," objected Sapientia, "because of heresy—

"As long as the Quman army rides on Wendish soil, I do not care if they are heretics, foreigners, two-headed, or painted blue, as long as they will fight loyally for the king." He turned to the old Lion.” What is your name?"

"Gotfrid, my lord prince. We are none of us disloyal to the king. What God chose to reveal to us has nothing to do with how faithfully we'll fight."

Sanglant called to Heribert, who had been trailing behind with the rest of his retinue.” Give the merchant ten sceattas for his trouble."

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"May God bless you, Your Highness," said Gotfrid.” We'll serve you well, I swear it. And so do these others swear."

The other four swore oaths hurriedly, with every appearance of gratitude and sincerity. Only the merchant didn't look happy, but he knew better than to protest.

Bayan stepped forward and spoke to the redeemed captives in a low voice.” The Eagle? Prince Ekkehard?"

Beneath the grime, Lord Thiemo's clothes had the cut, color, and richness of a lord's garb, and when he rose to his feet he had the slightly bow-legged stance of a young man who has grown up spending more time in the saddle than walking.” Dead," he said raggedly.

"Is this true?" asked Bayan.

"I fear it must be, my lord prince," said the old Lion.” It was winter. It was snowing like to drown us. And we were attacked by shadows." His voice dropped to a whisper and he glanced around as though expecting to see them materialize out of nowhere.” The Lost Ones."

Flushing, he struggled to contain the memory, and the fear. His companions murmured to each other, huddling together as if the mere mention of the creatures who had attacked them was enough to bring down a snowstorm.

Gotfrid went on harshly.” I never knew what happened to the others, except for two of my men who were cut down by elfshot in the forest. We got scattered. We found Lord Thiemo, here," he nodded toward the youth, "in the woods, and escaped as best we could. In the end we got taken by bandits. They were merciful. They took our weapons, cloaks, and belts, but they sold us to the slavers instead of killing us." He wiped a tear from his eye.” That Eagle, she was a good woman. It pains my heart to have lost her."

Bayan murmured under his breath so softly that Sanglant knew the words were not meant even for Sanglant's ears.” As it does mine."

"Ekkehard is dead?" asked Sapientia.” Young fool." She wiped a tear from her eye as though she'd copied the movement from the old Lion.

"I heard otherwise," said Sanglant.” There's a rumor heard as far north as Walburg that Ekkehard has turned his coat and is riding with Bulkezu."

o

Lord Thiemo leaped up.” It's not true! Ekkehard would never act the traitor. He'd never betray the king. If his father had only given him what he deserved—

"Quiet!" Blessing's voice cracked like a whip over the youth's protest.” Don't yell at my Daddy. I don't like that."

Just like that, the youth dropped to one knee before her and bowed his head obediently.” Yes, my lady."

No one snickered or even grinned as Blessing extended a hand to touch him lightly on the head.” Stand up, Lord Thiemo," she commanded.” But don't yell."

"I think such rumors are not true," said Bayan.” Maybe he fell, and his armor off his body was took, and now is being worn by a Quman thief."

"I think it's true," muttered Sapientia, "or at least that it could be true. If you dangled enough sweets and enough flattery in front of Ekkehard, I swear I believe he would do anything."

"Even that?" demanded Sanglant.

"You don't know him as well as I do."

It was hard, seeing the resentful purse of her mouth, the weakness that had troubled her heart for her entire life, to believe that she knew what she was talking about. She was always afraid that the person next to her at table was going to get a bigger cut of beef than she did.

"Come, Sapientia," said Bayan hastily, appearing to know his wife's moods very well, "you will judge which prisoners come free to serve in our army."

"Come! Come!" echoed Blessing, dancing from foot to foot.” I want to see." Not waiting for the others, she raced ahead, Anna and, belatedly, Lord Thiemo hurrying after her.” What's that?" the girl shrieked, pointing toward the far wall of the old hill fort where, seen through various carts and stalls, the palanquin belonging to Bayan's mother had come to rest. Her four slave bearers had hunkered down to wait. With the curtains pulled closed it was impossible to know from this distance what the Kerayit shaman was looking at, but Sanglant felt sure she was examining something worthy of interest. With Bayan and Sapientia beside him, he hastened after his child. His companions followed him.

Here in this quarter of the little market the slaves included Quman prisoners trussed up or shackled; even the children were considered dangerous enough to be bound. As they approached, poor Zacharias began nervously twisting one hand about the other wrist, as if remembering the chafing hold of a shackle. His right eye blinked alarmingly the closer they got to one sullen display of Quman prisoners.

"They stink so effusively," said Heribert, waving a scrap of linen cloth in front of his nose as they approached the wagons belonging to a Wendish merchant, a stout woman with the gaze of a stoat spying on an untouched nest of eggs.” Is there any way to clean them up?"

Zacharias' giggle was cut through by hysteria, barely suppressed.” Throw them in the river. They hate water." He wiped his brow and looked ready to jump in the river himself.

"Courage, Brother Zacharias," said Sanglant softly. Zacharias glanced at him in surprise and, with an effort, steadied his breathing and squared his shoulders like a man preparing for battle.

The merchant hurried forward to greet them.” My lord prince, I pray you are well come to this terrible place, and that you may find what you need here among my wares. I am called Mistress Otlinde, out of Osterburg, where your most noble aunt, Duchess Rotrudis, rules her subjects with a steady hand. My lord Druthmar! I have bided several times most rewardingly in the fine town of Walburg. Perhaps you may recall the fine silver silk damask my lady Waltharia selected from among my wares for your youngest son's naming day?"