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“Or it might have been a dream. I might only have wanted to see her so badly…. It seemed so real. I saw her arguing with a youth, a young man—”

“Thiemo? Matto?”

“I never saw him before.”

“Might it have been the past you saw?”

“Nay—she was the age she was when we left her.” But not yet as old as in that terrible vision when she had seen Blessing held prisoner by Hugh. “It was the present, or the future. I’m sure of it. It means she lives.”

“If that is so, and if Gyasi brings her back to us safe and alive, then we made the right choice.”

“What if she dies because one of us did not go to her?”

“Then we will be responsible. How else can we judge? What else can we do? Each day I must choose, and some may die, and some live, because of decisions I make.”

“Ah, God. It is no good task. So many are already dead.”

“And yet more would be dead, if you had not confronted Anne and killed her. You know it is true.”

“It is true,” she said reluctantly, “but I feel no triumph in victory.”

“That is because we gained no victory. All we managed was no defeat.”

“I met a party of farmers in Aosta. After the griffins rescued me from Zuangua. These farmers had lost their homes to the windstorm. Passing troops had stolen what remained of their stores. No doubt it seemed fitting to that lord and his army to do so, for he must supply his own in order to fight.”

“So he must, but he will not eat the next year if all those who farm for him die of starvation.”

One of the knots plaguing her stomach relaxed. “I suppose that is only one tiny injustice among so many great ones. Yet it makes me think of words Hathui once said: ‘The Lord and Lady love us all equally in Their hearts.”’

“That being so,” he murmured in reply, “why did God make Wichman the son of a duchess and Fulk, who is in every way his superior as a man, the son of a minor steward without rank or standing except that which I give him? Why did I live when all my faithful Dragons died?”

“The church mothers have an answer to all these questions, else we would fall endlessly into the Pit for wondering.”

“What is their answer?”

“I can quote chapter and verse, but in the end, their answers are all the same: Humankind cannot know the mind of God.”

“As dogs cannot know the mind of their master, although they strive to be obedient?”

She laughed.

“I must acquire a pack of loyal hounds, who will sit at my feet and growl at the faithless and remind me of how untrustworthy courtiers can be. Poor things.”

“The dogs, or the courtiers?”

“Do you remember my Eika dogs? What awful creatures they were, not dogs at all, truly. Yet I miss them in one way. I never had to guess their intentions. I could always trust them to go for my throat if they thought I was weakening.”

She hesitated, and he felt the tension in her and turned to kiss her cheek. “Say it. Do not fear me, so that you think you must hold your tongue.”

“Very well, then. Must you be king? With the dogs always circling around?”

“I must,” he said, taking no offense at her question. “Alas that my father is dead. I wish it were otherwise.”

“He has other children.”

“They are not fit. Sapientia you know. Theophanu is capable, but she is too reserved and hasn’t gained the love and support of those she would need to lead. Ekkehard is too light-minded. Henry’s children by Adelheid are too young, and anyway they will receive little support in the north if Adelheid were to claim the Wendish throne for them. They may hope to inherit Aosta if they have survived the storm. Nay, let it be. Henry wished for this for many years. Now it has come to pass. I am his obedient son.”

But because she lay so close against him, she felt his tears.

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