King's Dragon (Crown of Stars #1)

King's Dragon (Crown of Stars #1) Page 108

Wolfhere considered her words for a while, then shrugged his shoulders and rose, lifting the short sword in both hands. “It was said of Bernard that he roved to far and exotic places as a young frater. He was sent out into the dark lands to bring the Holy Word to those who live in night, but I know little of those journeys.”

“Da was a frater?” Startled, she gaped at him.

“You did not know this, child?”

She shook her head.

“Where do you think he was educated? Do you not know his kin?”

Again, a mute no. She had wondered if Wolfhere knew her father’s history, but she dared not ask—in case he asked questions of her in his turn—and she had not expected him to volunteer any information.

“Not a strong lineage but known to be of a family that came east in the time of Taillefer’s empire, when the emperor set out to bring Wendar under his authority. That Taillefer failed is not to his discredit, for the Wendish tribes in those days were lawless and had not yet come into the Light of God. Bernard’s people built estates in what were then wild lands even as King Henry sends freewomen and men into the lands beyond the River Eldar so he can extend the kingdom eastward, into what are still barbarian lands.”

“I have kin living?” She had been alone for so long, first, in faint memories, in the villa with her mother and father and then on the long road with Da, that she could not imagine having kinsmen and women to whom she was bound by ties of blood and obligation.

“Most of that lineage went into the church, so they did not produce many children. In the succession crisis of the elder Arnulf they supported, alas, a claimant against Arnulf and thus lost the royal favor and a not insubstantial portion of their lands. Bernard has a cousin yet living, though the estates she administers are sadly diminished from what they were under their common grandmother. She has a son who rides with the King’s Dragons, whom I imagine we shall soon see. Another son is a monk at St. Remigius Cloister. There was also a daughter, who surely is married by now.”

“Where is this estate? How do you know all this?” And the question she could not ask: Why did Da never tell me any of this?

“Near Bodfeld. It has long been my business to know of your background, Liath.” The way he said the words, sternly, almost mercilessly, made her shiver and pull a step back from him. “But I was your mother’s sworn comrade in other pursuits, and thus I am bound to her in ways you do not yet understand.”

“What ways?” she asked, not wanting to ask but unable not to ask. There was so much she wanted to know about her parents.

“Your mother was one of those who are called magi. And so, in a meager fashion, am I.”

“Then—” She barely managed to get the words out through her choked throat. You are deaf to magic, Liath, Da always said. But she had burned the Rose into wood, without bearing flame in her hand. “Then why are you in the Eagles?”

“A good question. I was sworn into the Eagles at much the same age you are now, child. Once given the badge of an Eagle, you can never truly leave them. It is the same with those men and few women sworn into the service of the Dragons, where it is said they are more likely to die than retire from that service. So it is said with the king’s guard of foot soldiers, the Lions, although it is also said of them that an old Lion is likely to be found at rest in his fields while his wife administers the work.”

“Then how did you come to know my mother and father?”

“Our paths crossed. What do you know of magic, Liath?”

“N-n-nothing.” But her tongue skipped betrayingly over the word.

“You must trust me, child.”

“How can I trust you, or anyone?” Suddenly it poured out. She tightened her grip on the bowcase, felt the smooth wood of the bow pressing against her hip. “Da and I ran all those years, for nothing. I don’t know who killed him. It might have been you, or people working for you. It might have been someone else, someone to whom you are opposed. But I can’t know! Da only taught me a scholar’s knowledge. He taught me little enough of the world. I didn’t even know he had a cousin living, a home we might have fled to—” She broke off, seeing Wolfhere’s expression, his wry smile, his small shake of the head.

“When Bernard left the church, he was disowned by his kin. He left for a shameful reason, for the love of a woman—your mother, Anne.”

She flushed with the heat of her own shame. “Many in the church claim to devote themselves only to Our Lady and Lord and yet do not hold to their vows.” She had to look away into the shadows. She began to tremble all over, and her hands went cold. Hugh.