Crown Of Stars - Child Of Flame Part 49

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 Taille-fer."

"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 amus.e.m.e.nt 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 n.o.ble 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 appet.i.te 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; wh.o.r.es, 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 n.o.ble 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 pa.s.sable 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, flus.h.i.+ng hotly. Five of the men o with him dropped hard to their knees. Under their dirt, Sanglant recognized the tabards of Lions.

"G.o.d 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 G.o.d'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 pa.s.s 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 G.o.d 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."

CHILD or FLAME "May G.o.d 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 grat.i.tude 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."

Flus.h.i.+ng, 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 sc.r.a.p 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 n.o.ble aunt, d.u.c.h.ess 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?"

"Alas," Druthmar replied, with a pleasant smile, "I do not."

Mistress Otlinde looked like the kind of merchant who recalled every least transaction she had ever made, not to mention the exact count of eggs she had sucked dry." I pray you, let my son bring you ale. How may I help you?"

Sanglant's attention was caught by his daughter, who had bolted away from Bayan and gone to examine the palanquin and the four male slaves. Without warning, she grabbed the edge, hoisted herself up, and slithered in through the gaudy draperies protecting the woman concealed within.

Anna shrieked in protest. The Ungrians called out in shock and dismay, and Bayan grabbed for Blessing's small shod foot, just missing it as it vanished behind the curtains. The slaves leaped to their feet, as distressed as fowl caught napping by a fox. Bayan "My lord prince!"

Captain Fulk had heard, as had Lord Druthmar, Lord Hrodik, and several of the other n.o.blemen.

"Do you think it wise to allow Quman into our ranks, Prince Sanglant?" asked Druthmar." What's to prevent them from murdering us in our tents at night once they have the run of camp?"

"Come, Brother Zacharias," said Sanglant, "how can I convince Quman soldiers to ride in my army, under my command, without having to watch my back ever after?"

"Will they take gold?" asked Lord Hrodik.

Zacharias laughed." Yes, they'll take it and then murder you afterward to see if you're hiding any more on your person."

"Might they swear a binding oath?" asked Captain Fulk, "as a good Wendishman would?"

"They'd swear an oath as easily as they'd spit in your face just before they cut off your head."

"Are they such savages that they can't be trusted at all?" demanded Lord Druthmar. He was an able man and a decent enough companion on the march, but Sanglant had discovered that he lacked imagination and ambition.

Zacharias laughed, a choked sound that annoyed Sanglant." I pray you, forgive me," he said at last, shuddering." Griffin feathers, my lord prince."

"Griffin feathers! Like those my mother had at Verna, when she shot the creatures that attacked us."

"Just so. Bulkezu's feathers, those were'." A nasty gleam lit Zacharias' gaze as he savored a memory." I remember how she defeated him."

"Truly, a remarkable feat. If only she would have stayed to lend some of her skills to my cause. But she never told me it was Bulkezu she had bested."

Zacharias smiled wryly. After all, he, too, had been abandoned by Alia when she no longer needed him. He surely had no illusions about her loyalties." Nay, my lord prince, do not think she tried to deceive you. I doubt she ever knew or cared about his name. But he'll not have forgotten her as easily as she forgot him."

"I suppose not."

"He's a madman, my lord prince. Nay. Do not shake your head as if I were a poet crowing for my supper. I mean it in truth. He is mad."

"So was I, for a time. But he wasn't so mad that he couldn't stalk and kill a griffin."

Heribert was listening." It seems to me that a man must be mad to stalk a griffin. Are you really saying, Zacharias, that the Quman will follow a man wearing griffin wings even if he has nothing else to offer them? What of loyalty? Necessity? Family honor?"

"Have you ever seen a griffin, Heribert?" asked Zacharias.

"I have not."

"Then you'd not ask that question." He snorted, but not entirely with contempt." Any man in the tribes can turn his back on his begh and take his tent and his herds and his family out into the steppe. Any man among them can live like a prince and his wife like a queen, if he chooses to leave the tribe behind. If he doesn't mind the solitude and is content with a small herd that he and his family can care for alone."

"Do you mean to say they're entirely faithless?" demanded Druthmar." Not even honorable enough to swear vows and keep them?"

"They're the most loyal soldiers I've ever seen. Never once would a Quman rider complain of hards.h.i.+p. They'd die rather than utter one word against the begh they follow."

Lord Hrodik had taken a liking to Druthmar, who put up with him, and he exclaimed loudly in protest, looking as if he would like to spit at the helpless prisoners." If you love them so much that you praise them like kings, then why did you flee from them, Prater?"

"I hate them," said Zacharias softly." Never doubt that. They treated me like a dog, and worse than a dog." Sanglant had noticed now and again a certain expression on Zacharias' face, a way the disreputable frater had of wrinkling up his nose as at a bad smell, or as if he were trying not to snarl contemptuously-or yelp in fright. He had that look now. The frater looked the prisoners up and down and even swaggered forward two steps, well out of reach in case one should try to kick him. The Quman studied him with those unnaturally blank stares, then glanced away dismissively. But Zacharias wasn't done. A string of words emerged fluently from his lips, swift and sweet. The aloof demeanor of the Quman slaves snapped so fast that poor Lord Hrodik yelped, startled, and leaped backward. The slaves growled and swore, spitting. One yanked so hard against the cords that bound him that the post to which he and his comrades were tied, driven deep into the ground, rocked alarmingly. Druthmar drew his sword. Bayan's Ungrian guards came running. Sanglant laughed, feeling the old familiar surge as his heart pounded and excitement raced along his limbs.

Mistress Otlinde's hired guards bolted forward with their staffs and began beating the bound prisoners into submission.

It wasn't a pretty sight. The Quman who had howled curses at Zacharias hunched over, taking hard blows without a whimper. In its own horrible way, it was an impressive display of toughness.

But it was a waste.

"For the sake of G.o.d," said Sanglant harshly, moving in to drag off the most rabid of the hired guards, who was whacking away like a crazed man at the Quman now driven to his knees below him." Hold!" The man whirled, thinking to strike the prince, but Sanglant caught his arm in mid-strike and held it, staring him down. After a moment, the hired guard shrank away, called off his fellows, and retreated to a safe distance, glowering. His victim spat out a few teeth and wiped blood off his chin. Staggering slightly, he stood, lifting his chin to look up at Sanglant, meeting his gaze. In the end, after a long battle, it was the Quman who looked away first.

"What was that?" Sanglant grabbed Zacharias' shoulder and spun him around. The frater was breathing hard, as though he'd been running, and sweat streamed down his face." I would have been better amused if I knew what purpose it serves to beat them senseless."

"Forgive me, my lord prince." Zacharias could hardly speak because he was panting so hard, flus.h.i.+ng and almost stammering." I only wish it were Bulkezu trussed up in their place. My mother always told me I was better armed with my tongue than many a man who carries spear and s.h.i.+eld."

"If they hadn't been tied up, they'd have torn you to bits," observed Heribert, who had retreated a few steps, letting Lord Druth-mar's broad shoulders s.h.i.+eld him.

Zacharias spoke again, hoa.r.s.ely, still catching his breath." Griffin wings, my lord prince. They'd never stab in the back a man wearing griffin wings." With a shuddering sigh, he strode off into the crowd.

"Nay, Heribert," said Sanglant quietly before the cleric could hasten after him, "he has his own demons to fight. Let him be for now. Yet I would gladly know what he said to them."

The Quman slaves had by now all picked themselves up, shrugging bruised shoulders, licking away blood that trickled down from their nostrils, all of it done awkwardly because their hands were tied up tightly behind their backs. Bayan and Sapientia hurried up, having heard the commotion.

"Do they trouble you?" demanded Bayan." I can have my men kill every one, but first I must wait on my mother. She sometimes likes to take one of these-" He spat at the feet of the nearest one, shoulders taut and one hand on his sword hilt as if he meant to cut their throats himself." -as a slave. But such maggots as this are unworthy even to be slaves."

"I think they're not really born of human blood," said Druthmar in a low voice." You'd think it hadn't hurt them at all. There's no shame in saying what hurts when a wound is honorably won, or dishonorably given." He, too, glanced toward the hired guards, a motley-looking crew of mercenaries who had probably been bandits preying on innocent travelers two months ago.

"No shame," agreed Sanglant. He beckoned to Brother Breschius." Do you know what my frater said to them? I know you have experience with the tribes."

"Nay, Prince Sanglant," said Breschius." I was a slave among the Kerayit, not the Quman clans. I know a few words of Quman, it's true, and indeed I believe he made some comment about their mothers, but beyond that I could not understand what he said."

"What do you care what the frater said to them?" asked Sapientia scornfully." They're only Quman. More beasts than people."

"They're soldiers. We have need of soldiers, I believe. If they aren't Pechanek Quman, then there's no reason we can't take them into our army as well and use them to fight Bulkezu."

Bayan stiffened as though he'd been spat on, turned abruptly, and walked away into the market.