Obedient to her will, its dark substance trembled, and it moved away immediately, its bell-like voice tolling the name of its victim.

Passing through the rock itself, it vanished from her sight, but if she concentrated, she could see with its senses as it forged forward on the track of its prey.

Mother Obligatia—once known as the novice Lavrentia—assembled all unsuspecting with her nuns in the refectory, laying their simple meal out on the table.

Now, at last, Antonia allowed herself to totter to the stone bench carved into the wall, back by the entryway. She sank down, shaking horribly, all the strength drained from her limbs. It might take her hours to recover, and the link that bound her to the creature she had summoned still sucked at her heart. When she had been a young woman, sorcery hadn’t taken so much out of her. Age had weakened her. In truth, unless she could divine the secrets of immortality, she hadn’t many more years before she might become too weak to impose her will on the church.

Resting, eyes shut, she prayed for strength and health and long life in order that she could continue to do God’s work on Earth. On the floor nearby, Lucida’s body cooled and stiffened.

XVIII

THE FIELD OF BLOOD

1

ANNA found it hard to sleep, especially after listening to the intimate council held late that night under an awning strung up between three trees to give shelter while Prince Sanglant and Prince Bayan conferred, each man attended only by two trusted captains. Sapientia sat beside Bayan, but in truth she hardly spoke, mostly listened. She seemed as nervous as a rat caught in a box.

“You know these children born out of Duchess Rotrudis,” Bayan had said. “Are Wichman and Zwentibold the best of them? Or are they the worst?”

“Zwentibold merely lacks imagination,” Sanglant replied. “The sisters are as bad as Wichman, in their own way. There’s a younger boy, too.”

“God save us,” murmured Bayan, apparently without irony.

Blessing had already fallen asleep. She stirred, snorting as she turned over, and Anna shut her eyes firmly, hoping that neither of the princes would notice that she was still awake. When Bayan went on, she peeked again, watching the figures silhouetted in lamplight as the awning swayed above them, stirred by the night’s wind.

“Then can trust be put in the news Zwentibold to us brings?” asked Bayan. “His mother dying. Conrad rides to Wayland on a flimsy excuse, or as we call it, a lame horse.”

“It is in Conrad’s interest to protect his western provinces from the civil war in Salia.”

“That horse still limps,” retorted Bayan, glancing at Sapientia. “With sweet words he can sing to all three sides, and when they have done fighting each of the other and lie weak, so he marches in to take what territory he wishes.”

“Do you know Conrad well?” asked Sanglant.

“By his reputation I know him.”

“Ah.”

“You do not agree?” Bayan laughed. “The crow of gossips says Conrad wishes the kingship of Wendar for himself. Also I hear he married Henry’s niece, this Tallia, who wears a gold torque. Her mother is the elder sister of Henry, is she not? What does Conrad intend?”

“It’s true that Conrad likes to be his own master, beholden to none. He may wait until we spend ourselves and our men driving out the Quman, and then send out scouts to see what remains. I don’t know. What troubles me more is that Theophanu has retreated to Quedlinhame.”

“She fears the Quman,” said Sapientia.

Sanglant shifted impatiently on his camp stool, lifting his empty cup for more wine. “Only a fool doesn’t fear the Quman,” he said, hand drifting to touch his throat. “Theophanu does not lack courage, Sister. But she may lack an army, in which case she would have been foolish indeed to meet Bulkezu on the field. According to Zwentibold’s report, she turned west before anyone in this region knew we were coming. I expect she retreated to Quedlinhame in order to protect it—”

“You always take her side,” said Sapientia suddenly, falling silent again only after Bayan laid a hand on her arm.

“—or to have a base from which to harry the Quman, in case Bulkezu took Osterburg and afterward chose to strike west into the heart of Saony. A wise enough decision, from a strategic point of view. But why has she such a meager army at her disposal?”

“Our father took Liutgard and Burchard and most of their host into Aosta, as well as many more, his own and others.”

“Theophanu should have been able to draw from Varingia and Arconia,” said Sanglant.