The Burning Stone

“What, then, do you suggest, Brother?” She sounds slightly exasperated, and Hanna begins to believe that the curve of her shoulders isn’t natural, it’s a cape, some item of clothing common to travelers; the regal woman is simply ready to leave and is only waiting to receive, or to give, the final word.



“What he said himself. Go to the king, as you mean to do in any case.”



“King Henry himself sealed the document that ordered you to be censured and taken before the skopos. Dare you to go before him now, knowing what might await you?”



“I trust you to protect me, Your Highness. Prince Sanglant said you would.”



“Ai!” She sounds pained and amused together. “So I am bound by his word, damn him.” That shadow within the shadow, the slash of her mouth, is a smile. “You would risk this for him?”



“Who would not?” he asks, sounding honestly surprised, and her laughter in answer is sharp. “There is one other thing, Your Highness. I pray you, may I speak to you privately?”



She gestures, but not all the shadows recede. “Trust you this man, Princess?” asks her counselor.



“I trust my brother, Captain Fulk,” she answers, “and so do you.” As flames shift and leap Hanna now sees only two shadows wavering in the fire.



When Heribert speaks again, at first she can scarcely hear him. “He has a child.”



“A child! By the Eagle?”



“What mean you, the Eagle?”



“The woman called Liathano.”



“Yes, by Liath. He believes that Liath, and thus his daughter, is descended from—”



Dirt flew in her face. Wolfhere had leaped to his feet and kicked ashes and earth over the fire, and it guttered as she coughed and spat. But he was already leaving, striding away with his shoulders set so tensely that she almost feared to run after him.



But she had too many questions. She had seen too much to fear him now. And she was still spitting dirt and hot ashes from her lips.



“Wolfhere!” She ran, and although he did not quicken his pace, she was panting hard by the time she caught him. “Why did you do that? Wasn’t that Princess Theophanu? Why is Brother Heribert with her, and why is he speaking of Prince Sanglant as though they were old companions? Did he truly mean that Liath and Sanglant had a child together? Is what I saw true, or only a vision sent from the Enemy?”



“Your time with Liath marked you,” said Wolfhere harshly. And then, with an agony that did not show in his expression: “Have I misjudged her so completely? Has she changed so much?”



“But—”



He turned on her with an expression more fitting for a man who has just seen Death riding down the road in his direction. “Go to Hathui and serve her and the Eagles well. But don’t ask me any more questions, for I cannot and will not answer them. You have a good heart, and I like you. Stay away from that which you can’t comprehend.”



He would say no more, although she followed him like a lost puppy, still asking questions. He did not even acknowledge her, only went to the stables and commandeered a horse although he hadn’t the king’s permission to leave. He would not answer her, he just left, riding out of Autun without looking back.



After the noon meal Henry called Hanna before him in the private garden of the biscop’s palace. “Hathui says that you witnessed the departure of Wolfhere.”



“I did, Your Majesty.”



“He left without permission from me, or orders from any of my stewards or chamberlains.”



She looked first at Hathui, but the other woman only lifted her chin, a signal Hanna could not interpret. After all, she was the King’s Eagle. It was to him she owed her loyalty, wasn’t it? “So he did, Your Majesty. But I know not where he was bound.”



“Hathui?”



“I do not know either, Your Majesty,” Hathui replied with obvious reluctance.



He slapped his leg hard enough that the sound made Hanna jump. “I knew he would betray himself some day.” He seemed exultant. “The faithful Eagle abandons his post. So be it. I place him under the regnant’s ban. If he is seen again by any woman or man loyal to me, let him be taken into custody and brought before me in chains, for desertion.” He turned that pitiless lightning gaze on Hanna. “Know you what brought about his flight? Fear not, Daughter. I can see you are innocent of his treachery.”



She could not lie. She saw in an instant that he comprehended the whole of her guilt.



She bowed her head in a vain attempt to gather her thoughts. Bricks paved the walkway she kneeled on, set in a lozenge pattern that repeated itself on and on and on around the square path that enclosed a central gazebo. When she looked up again, the king had leaned forward from the cushioned bench on which he sat, balancing himself with an elbow on one knee.