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“Who does not ride with you, I see.”

“Who does not ride with me, as you see.”

“Lady help us, did she abandon you and the child? Just as your mother abandoned you.” She clucked reprovingly. “Alas, you and Father have left yourselves at the mercy of inconstant women.”

But Sanglant knew how to play this game. “I pray you, Sister, do not speak so slightingly of your own blessed mother, Queen Sophia, for she was always kind to me even if all the other things they said of her were true.”

Sapientia flushed bright red. She called to her ladies and strode off after Bayan.

Heribert stepped up beside him. “A fruitless victory, I fear.”

“True enough. And ill gotten, may Queen Sophia forgive me, for it’s true she was always kind to me. It was the Wendish clerics who would persist in never trusting her, just because she was Arethousan.”

Blessing’s childish giggle rang out, and she slid out from under the curtains, tumbled to her knees, and picked herself up before Anna could get to her. She allowed Anna to dust off the knees of her leggings and straighten her sleeves but hadn’t a chance to speak before Sanglant lifted her up.

“That was rashly done, Daughter!”

Her sweet little face trembled, her mouth turned down, and the shock of his stern anger made tears well up in her eyes as she stared up at him in surprise. But she had to learn.

“You might as well stick your hand into a nest of wasps as crawl in where you’re forbidden to go!”

“But—”

“Nay, I’ll hear no more from you now, Blessing. You went where you were not permitted and did so without asking permission. Because of that, you may not walk around camp anymore today. Anna, take Blessing back to my tent and see that she stays there the rest of the day. Matto can help. Lord Thiemo, you’ll stand guard over her. Do please kindly recall that you take orders from me, not from my daughter, who is after all barely more than an infant.”

“Y-yes, my lord prince,” stammered Thiemo, who had the grace to blush.

Blessing began to shriek in protest, then broke down into hiccuping snivels as Sanglant handed her brusquely into Anna’s arms. “But, Daddy—”

He grasped one of her little hands in his and caught her chin with the other, so that she had to look at him. “Is this how Emperor Taillefer’s heir returns through camp, crying like a helpless child taken prisoner in war? You’ll take the punishment you earned, and you’ll take it proudly.”

She gulped several times, fighting down tears. Anger swelled, easy to see as she screwed up her mouth in a pout. She bit back several protests, then, finally, squirmed out of Anna’s grasp and marched away with her back stiff and her hands clenched in fury. Anna and Thiemo hurried after her.

“Let me go,” said Heribert softly at his side.

“Nay, my friend, she’ll only twist you into softening the blow. I can’t trust you with her when she’s in this mood. As soon as she starts sniffling, you’ll run out and fetch her honey cakes, anything to sweeten the punishment. I’ll keep you with me, in case I need sweetening.”

“Well,” said Sapientia, sauntering up with an ill-disguised smirk on her face. She had seen the altercation and now returned with Bayan in time to savor the girl’s scolding. “I trust we have seen more here than we had cared to see.” She turned to her husband. “There are perhaps a score of slaves in the whole market worth freeing. I’ll have my stewards take care of the matter. I trust we may leave the rest to rot in their chains.” She indicated the Quman. “Don’t you agree, Sanglant?”

Bayan kept quite still, neither speaking nor showing any emotion except that both his hands were clenched, and Sanglant thought it prudent to retire from the field on this matter, at least. “We’ve a long road, hunting Bulkezu,” he agreed mildly.

She lifted her chin to examine Sanglant with what she evidently considered regal command. “Now that you have come to aid us with your troops, you may join our war council tomorrow night. We’ll be leaving Machteburg the day after.” She beckoned to her attendants and she and Bayan moved away together through the throng that had gathered, mostly soldiers come to survey the merchants’ encampment and get a closer look at their commanders.

A youth pressed through the crowd in the opposite direction. When he saw Sanglant, he changed course.

“What is it, Matto?” asked Sanglant as the lad hurried up.

“The old man wishes to speak urgently to you, my lord prince. He says he’s seen news.”

The phrasing sent Sanglant’s heart racing. He had a tremendous sense of impending action, that moment before a storm surge breaks over the wharf. They left the market. A ferry raft took them over the river to the neatly-laid-out encampment where his army, fully three hundred mounted cavalry as well as a number of other fighters, had set up their tents. The ditch being dug around the perimeter was almost complete, the easiest defense against a surprise cavalry attack should there be Quman lurking in the woods. Wolfhere waited for him in the shadow of his tent’s awning, out of the sun. Blessing had gone inside the tent to sulk. He could hear her companions talking in low voices; Lord Thiemo seemed to be telling the child some kind of story about a phoenix. Harmless enough, and it might serve to keep her out of trouble for the evening.

“What news?” he asked Wolfhere. They walked away from the tent, giving them some privacy to converse. Only Heribert and Druthmar attended them. The rest of the pack waited restlessly under the awning, sipping mead.

“I found Hanna;” said Wolfhere in a troubled voice. “I’d looked for her through fire and water both these past months. Since I couldn’t spy her, I thought she must be dead—”

“Who is Hanna?” asked Heribert.

“The young Eagle I rode with when we took you over the mountains,” snapped Wolfhere. “Or do you even remember her?”

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