In the Ruins

She wasn’t eager to see what lay under the wagon, so she walked on through the ruins of the camp. As she neared the central compound, she saw more signs of life, soldiers hurrying about their tasks, some of them leading horses. A line of wagons was being drawn into position. A handsome bay so spooked that it shied at every shift and movement was being calmed by a stolid groom. Even here, the royal tents lay in heaps and mounds, fallen into ridges and valleys over whatever pallets and tables and benches sat inside. A rack of spears had toppled to spill all over. She glanced around to see if anyone was looking, bent, and snatched up one of the spears. No one stopped her. A gathering of some hundreds of people milled and swarmed in a clear spot beyond the collapsed tents. She edged forward into the crowd and wove and sidestepped her way far enough in that she could see what was going on.



Nothing good: a storm of nobles arguing. That didn’t bode well. She used her hip to nudge her way past a weary soldier and her height to see over the heads of the shorter, stockier Arethousans. No one seemed to notice her in particular; the ash had turned her white-blonde hair as grimy as that of the rest.



“But you promised me!” Princess Sapientia was saying. She had weathered the night better than many. Her face was clean and she didn’t have dark circles under her eyes.



King Geza had not fared so well. He was pacing, hands clenched, and his gaze touched his wife’s figure only in glances. He was looking for something; Hanna wasn’t sure what.



“I have five adult sons. Any one of them may believe this disaster is a sign from God for him to usurp my place.”



“They would not have done so before, after you left?”



“No. My officials were in place. Who knows what has become of them? This was no natural storm. The priests will speak in many tongues, all arguing among themselves. The Arethousans will scold the Dariyans. The old women will creep from their huts and start scouting for a white stallion. I must go home and see to my kingdom lest it fall to pieces.”



“This storm may not have touched Ungria! It’s so far away.”



Geza stopped for long enough to look at Sapientia with disgust. “Only a fool would not recognize this storm for what it is. As soon as my soldiers are ready, we march.”



“But you promised me—!” She choked on the words. She could not get them out of her throat. “I married you!”



“Come with me, then. Once Ungria is safe—”



“What of my kingdom?” she exclaimed.



“By the blessed Name of God, woman! All that lies south of here is blasted, so the scouts say. To the west, toward Aosta—who can see for the smoke and fire? Do not be blind. I will not ride to Wendar. I turn my back on Aosta, just as God has.”



“You promised me!”



Hanna wanted to shake her, but King Geza was faster, and less patient than Prince Bayan to be sure.



“Then I divorce you, Sapientia. Go on your way as you please.”



“Divorce me?”



“I divorce you. Must I repeat myself? Ah! Captain! What news?”



“We’re ready, Your Majesty.”



“Then we go.” He gestured. The captain shouted a command in Ungrian, and half the men milling around scattered so swiftly that Hanna felt spun in circles although she didn’t move.



“But what about me?” cried Sapientia plaintively.



“I divorce you. It is done. Feh!” He strode off, talking in a low voice to his captain. He didn’t even look back as the handsome bay was led up for him to ride.



Sapientia stood gasping, her hands opening and closing although she had nothing to grasp onto.



Hanna whistled under her breath and began to retreat out from the chuckling, staring crowd of Arethousans, softly, slowly, taking care not to draw attention to herself, just a quiet hound slinking off to do its business, nothing worth noticing. Off to the right she heard the shouts of men and the jangling of harness as a large troop moved out. Lord protect them! Geza had abandoned his bride and his allies without a moment’s hesitation. She knew she had to get back to Sister Rosvita quickly. She knew what the answer was, now, to their predicament.



Move fast, and get out of the way.



“There!”



She spun, but it was too late. Sergeant Bysantius strode up with a dozen guards at his heels.



“Eagle! Come with us.”



They had already surrounded her. She saw, around them and beyond them, the steady tidal flow of troops and servants toward a distant goal. Bysantius grabbed her elbow and towed her along with him.



“They’re wanting you,” he added.