The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars #5)

The Gathering Storm (Crown of Stars #5) Page 377

“You knew I meant to lead an army against King Henry. If your father fights with those who corrupted Henry, is he not more of a rebel than we are?”

She said nothing at first. She had the knack of keeping still, like stone. He tapped his own thigh repeatedly with one hand because he could not pace.

“I do not disagree with you,” she said at last. “But when I saw my father, I knew I could not raise my sword against him. I could not ask his Avarians to press into battle against their brothers and cousins. I could not do it. How do you know, Sanglant, how you will react when you meet your father on the field?”

“If I do. If he is ensorcelled, and I believe he is, then I would be a traitor not to free him.”

“Yet wouldn’t you wonder? What if there is no enchantment? I tell you frankly: I doubt, where I did not doubt before. Are you sure of your information? Or are there other ambitions driving you that whip doubt away?”

“I am not ambitious,” he said impatiently. “I have always been an obedient son.”

“Have you? Rumor has it you married against your father’s wishes. I hear whispers that the end of the world is upon us, that drought and famine and plague and even the Quman invasion afflict us because of God’s displeasure. Because of a curse laid on humankind by the Lost Ones many ages ago. Now I am no longer sure. You are only half human blood. Are you my ally, or my enemy?”

“I was abandoned by my mother! My loyalty has always been to my father!”

He hadn’t meant to speak so sharply. All around the camp men raised their heads and looked toward them. A few touched swords and spears; a dozen moved closer, but Wendilgard waved them away. She was a prudent woman, not easily cowed and rather older than he was, a late child of mature parents and after the untimely death of her younger brothers and older sister the only remaining direct heir.

“I am on the knife’s edge,” she said quietly. “If I choose wrong, then I doom my own people as well as my father. Avaria has suffered badly these last few years. I weep when folk come before me and tell me their tales of hardship. I have not protected them.”

He reined in his temper, hand clenched now and rapping a staccato rhythm against his leg. “Caution will not save us.”

“Maybe not, but I have come too far. Or rather I should say: I have come as far as I can go. My soldiers will not fight, Sanglant. They have seen my father’s banner. Some among them have seen my father, as I have, and now all know he lives and rides beside Adelheid, who is, after all, Henry’s wife. If I press them, they will mutiny. I cannot help you.”

“Without your forces, Henry may be lost.”

“If I rejoin you, my forces will be lost because they will rebel against me.”

“What will come is something far worse than fears of rebellion. If we do not save Henry and turn against Anne, we are lost.”

She shook her head. “You ask too much of me and of my soldiers. Thus are we caught. There is nothing I can do.”

She would not be swayed and in the end he had to retreat to save face, but he did not go gladly. He fumed, although he spoke no word of his vexation aloud. He went graciously, because anger would lose him even, and especially, her respect.

But he was angry. He burned with it, and because he could not even stay seated in the saddle without risking too hard a hand on Resuelto’s mouth he walked and soon outpaced his own guardsmen whom he waved back when they jogged up to catch him. Hathui he tolerated because he knew that she, like a burr, would cling unless he tore her loose and he hadn’t the energy, had too much energy, to pry her off.

“My lord prince,” she said as they walked down the path where it hooked and crooked among oak and pine and underbrush, “this is the wrong turn. We’re going back the way we came. Can you see there, through, the trees? That dark shadow is the hill where the Avarians camped. Those are their torches.”

“Damn her!” He kept walking. “Will she now be a threat to our rear? Will she try to lift the siege? Should I attack her at dawn and take her men prisoner? Can I trust her to retreat north and leave us, so that she’s neither threat to me nor aid to Burchard and thus to Adelheid? God Above, Hathui! I have trusted your word this long. Is it true my father is ensorcelled? Am I driven by other ambitions? Did I sell Sapientia to elevate myself? No doubt she’s dead now, and I’m no better than a murderer who kills his own sister to gain the family lands.”

She said nothing, only followed as they blundered on. He couldn’t listen, although he knew he ought to. Branches scraped his face. The brush layer crunched beneath his boots.