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“So it is true. And Liath has survived, so you say.” No doubt he was eager to hear these tidings, but he kept his voice low and even.
“Can you not see her yourself, with your vaunted Eagle’s Sight? Have you not spoken with your discipla, Hathui, who has gained the protection of the new king and stands in his very shadow?”
There was a long pause, and a quiet shuffling of feet above her. Anna glanced up to see a shadowed form bent over the trap, looking down toward her, but it was obvious that his eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness below.
“You may as well know that I am blind,” said Wolfhere. “Since the cataclysm.”
“Blinded? Useless and helpless, then. Master of nothing, servant to no one. Yet why tell me so? Why confess as much to me, Eagle?”
“Because I hurt, Lord Hugh. If I tell you that you can gain nothing from torturing me, then perhaps you will not do so.”
“Ah. I suppose it is the Holy Mother—or the queen—who sees you used so ill. What do they want to know?”
“Nothing I would tell you, if I would also not tell them. Leave us be, Lord Hugh. I do not know what is your purpose here. I ask you only for this favor: leave us be.”
“What will you give me in return?”
“In return for what?”
“For leaving you be.”
“So we come around again to my first question: what do you want?”
“Who is Liath’s father?”
“Bernard.”
“And her mother?”
“A daimone of the upper spheres. I am surprised to hear you ask.”
“It was once a closely guarded secret.”
“Yes, once it was. Back when we still held some measure of control over her. Anne took you into the Seven Sleepers. I am not surprised that you lived, when others died, but I am surprised you ask me questions you must already have heard the answers to.”
“Folk may lie.”
“I am shocked to hear it.”
Lord Hugh chuckled. “Is it safe to let you live, Eagle?”
“Oh, indeed it is. I would even call it necessary.”
“Think you so?”
“Of course I must. Leave us be, Lord Hugh. We have nothing you want.”
“No, no,” said the other man musingly. “I’m not sure you do have anything I want.”
She felt warm breath on her neck and heard the merest croak of the step just above the one she stood on, where it had a wobble.
“Hsst!” said the sergeant in her ear. “Up out of here, girl, or we’ll all be in trouble.”
They fled up, and just in time, for the sergeant had just shoved her out the door and over to the pits to pretend she was at some kind of filthy work with her head bent down to hide her face when she heard all the soldiers with bowing and scraping in their voices as some august presence departed the tower and went on his way.
“Idiot,” said the sergeant, coming over to her and yanking the pail out of her hand. “No one was to disturb them! I’ll take care of the prisoner today. You go back up, and keep your mouth shut and your feet where they belong.”
“How was I to know?” she said, and he slapped her.
