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“Isn’t every child?” demanded Sapientia, looking affronted.
“The Acts, like The Shepherd of Hermas, is a work both noble and common folk may hear for their edification. But what of the writings with which the educated cleric instructs herself? Macrina of Nyssa’s The Catechetical Orations and her Life of Gregory? These fine works you have read, of course?”
She shook her head. A few of the courtfolk whispered among themselves. Some snickered.
“The City of God by Saint Augustina? Or her De Doctrina Daisanitia? Jerome’s Life of Saint Paulina the Hermit? Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Zurhai the Jinna?”
Numbly, she shook her head and, just as King Henry raised a hand, growing bored with this display of ignorance, Hugh stood up. His audience quieted expectantly. The poor Eagle ducked her head, as any shamed creature would, to stare at the floor.
“Is it not said,” Hugh asked of Sapientia and the assembled clerics and layfolk together, as a teacher addresses his students, “that the emperor of all Jinna keeps a bird which he has taught to speak human words? Have you ever seen entertainers make dogs to walk upon two legs? Such learning makes neither bird nor dog educated, however. A child trained early enough can learn the meanings of words written upon a page, and speak them out loud, but that does not mean her understanding is equally trained. I believe we have before us a curiosity.” He smiled wryly but with a touch of gentle amusement such as an adult shows before an incredulous child’s outrageous claims. “Not a prodigy. Is it not so, Your Highness? How do you judge this case?”
Thus appealed to, Sapientia nodded sternly. “Of course what you say must be true, Father Hugh. It might be a mercy, then, to take this poor creature under my wing.”
Henry rose, and quickly any seated man or woman rose as well, young Brother Constantine almost spilling his red ink in his haste not to show discourtesy toward the king. “Let that be a lesson, daughter, that we are well served by wise counselors.”
“And some more than others,” murmured Villam so softly that only Rosvita and the king could hear.
Henry’s lips quirked, and he signed to his servants. There was a sudden flurry of activity at the other end of the hall. Two servants picked up his chair and carried it over to the central place. “I think we may now sit down to table,” Henry observed. He led the way.
Rosvita lingered, bitten by curiosity. The young Eagle remained kneeling. A few tears streaked her cheeks, but she made no sound, moved not at all even to wipe them away. She simply stared fixedly at the cold stone floor.
“Eagle!” called Sapientia from her seat at the central table. “Attend me!”
She rose and, silent, attended her new mistress.
X
A DEER IN THE FOREST
1
“I still don’t like her,” said Sapientia to her companion, Lady Brigida, whose status as Sapientia’s current favorite gave her the privilege of combing the princess’ hair in the evening before bed. “That skin of hers. It’s so … so …”
“Dirty? She might wash more.”
“It isn’t dirt. It doesn’t come off. I rubbed at it yesterday.” The princess giggled. “Perhaps she’s the lost sister of Conrad the Black, or his by-blow.”
“Hmm. She’s too old to be his by-blow … but perhaps not, if he bedded some girl when he was young Brother Constantine’s age. Perhaps she’s a Jinna slave girl who escaped her master.”
“Then how would she know how to speak our language?” demanded Sapientia.
“Duke Conrad’s mother didn’t enter the convent after the elder Conrad died, did she? Perhaps this is her second child by another man.” Lady Brigida had the unfortunate habit of snorting when she giggled, and she giggled a great deal, possessing ample inheritance in lands but little in wit or sense. “You wouldn’t think she would have had to hide the child unless there was something wrong with the lover she had taken.”
“I believe she lives quite retired. Still, there’s something in what you say, Brigida, that she must have Jinna blood in her, for they’re all brown like that. But I still say she must have some Wendish blood in her, or she’d not be able to speak our language.”
“Didn’t Father Hugh say any bird can be taught human speech?”
Liath endured this without flinching. Their idiocy and arrogance bothered her not one whit. At this moment, Hugh was not in the room, and after three days as Sapientia’s Eagle that was the only mercy she lived for.
“Keep brushing,” said Sapientia. “Whom should I marry, Brigida?”
“Lord Amalfred,” said Brigida instantly. “He’s very handsome and he killed a bear last week with his own hand, as you saw, as well as a dozen deer or more. I should like a husband like that. When I inherit from my mother, I’ll expand her lands eastward, and I’ll need a strong fighting man at my side.”
“He’s only the son of a Salian duchess. I must marry a man with royal connections.”
“Isn’t King Henry going to send for an Arethousan prince for you to marry, since your mother was an eastern princess?”
Sapientia sighed sharply and tossed her head, disturbing the smooth flow of black hair that Lady Brigida had been stroking with the comb. “Even my Eagle knows better than that, Brigida. Isn’t that so, Eagle? Why can I not marry an Arethousan prince?”
