The Gathering Storm

Page 247

“I’ve never seen a crown all standing in place, like that one,” murmured Thiemo, shifting from one foot to the other as he, too, watched from beside Blessing’s wagon.
“It makes me feel prickly all over,” agreed Matto. The two youths shared a look that, all at once, made Anna feel left out.
Then they both glanced at her and the momentary camaraderie vanished as they turned away, hands clenching, backs stiff.
No one moved to pitch camp. Like Anna they waited anxiously, not sure what would happen next. The bulk of the army formed up farther out on the grass, separate from the small party that would accompany Liath. Farthest back, a dozen soldiers stood guard over the hooded griffin.
“What will happen?” asked Matto, unable to stand the suspense any longer.
“Look,” said Anna. “They’re coming back.”
A strong, cold wind started blowing from the north, and the healer rose from her seat at Blessing’s side to sniff at the air. With a frown, she shook her head.
“Snow,” she said when Thiemo looked at her questioningly.
As the prince and his entourage clambered up to the waiting army, Captain Fulk hurried away to talk to a cavalcade of sergeants awaiting his orders. The powerful centaur attending the old shaman trotted away to her own group, and, as Anna watched, the two lines began integrating, units of centaurs lining up between mounted horsemen, with Kerayit bowmen in the van and Fulk commanding the rear guard. Only Bertha and her two dozen soldiers stood their ground, together with a dozen centaurs, the wagon belonging to the witchwoman, and her Kerayit attendants.
The prince strode up to the open wagon where Blessing lay. He leaned over the side, reaching out to touch his daughter’s pale face. Blessing breathed softly, but it was clear that it might well be only hours before her soul left her body. Liath came to stand beside him. A few tears glistened on her cheeks, and she wiped them away impatiently.
“We do what we must,” she said.
“I know.” He, too, was weeping, but he made no attempt to erase his tears. He stood there for a bit with his eyes shut and a hand resting on the girl’s sunken, hollow cheek. Liath said nothing. Maybe, Anna thought uncharitably, she was heartless; she didn’t seem as upset as she ought to be. Or maybe, just maybe, what she showed on her face wasn’t the mirror of her heart.
Maybe.
At last the prince sighed deeply and withdrew his hand. His gaze ranged over Blessing’s attendants. He seemed to be counting them off.
“Well, then,” he said. “This task I will command none of you to accept, but I offer it in any case. One chance we have to save her—that she be placed in the barrow at the center of the crown in the hope that the spell woven by my wife will capture her in a kind of sleep.”
“Until when?” asked Heribert, stepping forward to stare broodingly at the girl.
Sanglant shrugged. “Until the crown of stars crowns the heavens. That is what we hope for. This is all we have. Otherwise, she will be dead by morning.” He had to stop because of the tears, but he mastered himself. “The Holy One tells us that for the spell to work there must be seven. That means we need six to attend her. I cannot promise you life, or death. It may be that nothing will happen, and that after Liath departs you emerge unscathed. In that case you will march west with us. You may die. Or you may wake in a year and a half out in this God-forsaken wilderness. If that comes to pass, then the Holy One has given us her word that some of her people will be here to rescue you. So.”
“I’ll go,” said Heribert instantly. The terrible expression on his face made Anna want to weep, but it was hard enough to listen without running away in fear. It was hard, knowing what she must do and yet fearing to do it.
“I go,” said the healer in her broken Wendish. “The Holy One command me.”
Gyasi stepped forward. “We serve the blessing through life and into death. My nephews and I will go.”
“Nay, you I have need of, Gyasi. I need you as a guide and to interpret and persuade the Quman. You serve her better if you help me win the war.”
“Then take of my nephews as many as you need, lord prince.”
Sanglant nodded. “So I shall.”
“I will go, my lord prince.” Anna’s voice shook as she said the words. She had never been so frightened in her life, not even when Bulkezu had taken her as a hostage.
“And I,” said Matto.
“I will, too,” said Thiemo, not to be shown up.
Sanglant nodded, his frown so deep that it looked likely to scar his face. “One of your nephews I’ll need, Gyasi. One who can fight.”