King's Dragon

Page 196

Rodulf reined his horse away and with his attendants rode back to his soldiers, who held the right flank opposite the banner of Fesse. Lavastine and a motley assortment of lordlings as well as levies taken from monastery lands made up the left flank, facing the lion of Avaria and the small contingent that had marched long days from Saony—or perhaps, Alain supposed, there had not been time for a contingent to come all the way from Saony. Perhaps the banner of Saony rode over those folk who had been in attendance on Henry already. Perhaps they flew the banner more to show Saony’s loyalty than to boast of their force of numbers.
“They mean to parley,” said Constance suddenly and clearly as several figures carrying a blue banner marked with a silver tree detached themselves from Henry’s retinue and rode into the open space that separated the two armies. “That is Villam’s device.”
“Of course,” said Sabella.
Abruptly, the figure in white and gold rode out under the banner of Fesse to join Villam.
Sabella nodded toward Biscop Antonia. “You know what to say.”
The biscop was already mounted on her white mule. She signed to her clerics and all but Heribert dropped back away from her.
“Tallia,” said Sabella curtly. Her daughter came forward reluctantly. “Attend Biscop Antonia. It is time for you to be seen.” The girl nodded obediently, but she did not look happy; she looked, in truth, more like a mouse caught in the clutches of an owl.
Antonia measured the number in Villam’s party: Villam, Duchess Liutgard, and two others. She considered the company around Sabella, but her gaze fell finally on Alain. “Come, child,” she said. “You will lead my mule.”
Sabella raised an eyebrow. “A kennel boy?”
“Something more than that, I think. These two hounds that accompany the boy are Lavastine’s hounds. Villam will recognize them and by that know Lavastine willingly marches with us.”
Sabella snorted. “So we will send Lavastine’s hounds as proxy? I am amused, although my brother will not be. That serves my purpose also. Go, then.”
Given no choice, Alain took the mule’s reins and led the animal forward, up the slope. Sorrow and Rage padded at his heels. Cleric Heribert followed suit, taking the reins of Tallia’s horse and walking alongside Alain, so the biscop and the girl rode side by side, granting them equal status.
As he walked, he studied the four figures they had been sent to meet. Two were Eagles; he recognized them by their cloaks trimmed with scarlet. Both were women, one of them surely no older than he was himself. It was this younger one who held Villam’s banner in her left hand.
The hale older man had to be Villam. He was armed in a fine mail shirt; over it, he wore a handsome tabard marked with the device of the silver tree.
But Alain’s gaze kept snapping to the fourth member of their party. Duchess Liutgard. This, then, was the woman Agius had refused to marry. She was tall and rather younger than he expected. She had a cleanly arrogant face and a steady gaze, and a hint of temper in her eyes.
She held her own banner, an odd affectation, and rode a beautiful white gelding outfitted with harness worked with gold ornamentation. Her armor was richer than Villam’s, more elaborate even than the king’s. Indeed, it surprised Alain to see a woman of this rank, in the prime of her childbearing years, riding to war and thus putting herself at risk. But her expression, the very set of her jaw, suggested that Duchess Liutgard had a strong will that was not easily overridden.
She noticed his gaze and, curious in her turn, looked him over; much could be said at a parly simply by the choice of people sent forward to conduct it. He could hear Aunt Bel’s voice: “Keep your hair tidy and your hands washed, lad. And meet new folk with a face that is neither too sullen nor too smiling, for they will trust neither one.” He tried to school his face to an expression of indifferent humility.
Now his gaze slid to Tallia. He had never been quite this close to the young princess before. She had fine clean skin, brushed with freckles, and in the sun her wheat-blonde hair had a touch of fire’s gold in it. Her lower lip trembled. He risked a glance back at Antonia, but the biscop wore her usual expression of kindly solicitude.
Villam, with some show of reluctance, dismounted and kissed the biscop’s ringed hand as a mark of respect for her office. After a deliberate pause, and after handing her banner over to the other Eagle, Duchess Liutgard followed suit. The two Eagles were not important enough to be allowed this honor; like Alain and Heribert, they hung back and observed.
“Lady Tallia,” said Villam, nodding toward the girl, “it is a pleasure to see you again.”