Child of Flame

Page 194

But the railing held.
“Rumor has it that Henry has married Adelheid,” Ironhead growled.
The glow of the lamp softened Hugh’s pensive smile as he stared out at the city below. In the distance, torches marked the harbor. “I’ve heard rumors that seafolk, people with the tails of fish, have been sighted beyond the harbor, out in the deep waters. Do you believe everything you hear, my lord king?”
“I would be a fool to do so, and a worse fool not to think Adelheid won’t offer herself to Henry in exchange for his help. She was last seen in Novomo and is known to have marched north over the mountains with what remained of her retinue and in the company of Princess Theophanu. What if the nobles choose to rally to Adelheid’s cause? What if Henry claims the king’s throne of Aosta by right of marriage to its queen?”
The bells ceased ringing. In the hollow silence, Antonia heard the whispering purl of the wind through the parapet railings and the myrtle wreaths. The lamp’s flame flickered, faded, and died.
“With me at your side, my lord king,” said Hugh mildly, “you have nothing to fear from King Henry.”
XIII
A VISION OF TIMES LONG PAST
1
SHE has heard of the queens of the desert in stories told around the hearth fire by night. Many creatures stalk the wild lands, where humankind dare not tread. But she never thought to see them with her own eyes.
Yet if she dreams, then is it true sight or only desire that causes her to look upon them, who prowl the wilderness? Perhaps it is a vision of times long past, and soon she will see the queen Arrow Bright, young and perilous, riding on the back of a lion queen out onto the sands to learn the mysteries of hunting from the ones who have long since proved themselves mistresses of the art of stalking and killing.
It must be a vision, because even as she watches she sees a small human figure step out from the shelter of a huge rock with his hands outstretched in the gesture of peace. Two black dogs, made small in contrast to the towering sphinxes, growl softly at his heels.
“Alain!” Adica jerked, and a hand pressed down on her shoulder.
“Quiet,” whispered Laoina.
Adica lay in such shade as a boulder afforded. Rocks dug into her shoulder and hip, but she didn’t have the strength to stand. Weakly, she groped to touch the bag her head rested on and found that it was her own fur cloak, bundled up. Just beyond it, within reach of her fingers, lay her pack with her precious regalia.
Laoina gasped, sudden and sharp. The ground shuddered. The boulder’s shadow slid off Adica abruptly and the sun blasted her eyes. Laoina threw herself prostrate onto the ground. Rolling onto her back, Adica looked up into the inhuman face of a woman, looming above her. With a forepaw, the lion woman had rolled aside the boulder to expose the two hiding behind it. The boulder rested in the curve of her paw like a ball ready to be rolled along the ground.
Her silvery mane streamed out as though a wind raked it. The lion woman regarded them with amber-colored eyes. The slit pupils made her look far more inhuman than the Horse people; although the centaurs had horses’ bodies, they had the torsos and faces—and eyes—common to humankind. The lion woman’s face had a human cast, but Adica saw nothing of human intelligence behind it.
“I pray you,” said Alain’s voice, from behind the sphinx, “we come in peace. We mean no trouble to your kind.”
The lion woman pushed the boulder away. It tumbled, crashing and rumbling, down to the base of the slope. Beyond it, nestled in the broad hollow at the base of the slope, lay the distant stone loom. Adica did not remember how she had gotten from there to here. Heat rippled in the air. Laoina had not stirred, but now the lion woman casually placed her paw, claws still sheathed, on the Akka woman’s back, and rolled her over.
Adica struggled up to her knees. “I beg you, Lady Queen.” Her voice had a hoarse squeak to it, parched dry. “We seek the tribe of humankind who are led by the holy woman, Brightness-Hears-Me.”
The lion woman cocked her head to one side, listening to a sound Adica could not hear, and sat back on her haunches. She lifted the paw touching Laoina and licked it thoughtfully. She had wicked-looking teeth, sharp and plentiful. After an excruciatingly long while of grooming her paws, she rose and strolled away as if she had forgotten her captives. Perhaps she just wasn’t hungry.
Laoina staggered up to her feet. She said something in her own language, an oath, perhaps, before speaking to Adica. “Never I think to see a maoisinu so big.”
“What is that?” exclaimed Alain, crouching beside Adica. “Ai, God, we must get you out of the sun.”