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“Do you wish Lord Hugh dead? Or alive? Your Majesty.” It was said sharply, but Antonia had tired of this conversation which they had repeated a dozen times since the morning four days ago when they had woken to find Lady Elene murdered, and Hugh, Princess Blessing, and Brother Heribert vanished together with nine soldiers including one of Adelheid’s loyal captains.
“I wish Henry still lived,” said Adelheid. She wiped an eye as though it stung. “He was a good man. None better.”
She sank down on the stone bench and rested her elbow on her knee and her forehead on her palm, the very image of a woman mourning a lost lover. Her gaze strayed over the ancient mosaic, and her eyes glittered, washed with tears.
“So it went in the old story,” she said, indicating the mosaic on which Antonia stood. The man was draped only in a length of cloth that did a poor job of covering his shapely body. The huntress’ hair was as dark as Adelheid’s, braided and looped atop her head in the antique style, common to Dariyans and depicted in mosaics, painted walls and vases, and sculpture. She had a bold nose and black mica eyes and the faintest memory of Prince Sanglant in tawny features.
“I do not know the story,” said Antonia impatiently, “nor am I sure I wish to know it.”
Adelheid raised a startled face to look at her. “Surely you must know it! It is the first tale I was told as a child.”
“The story of the blessed Daisan?”
The Aostans were tainted by their past, as everyone knew. Despite the loving and firm hand of God directing them to all that is right and proper, they persisted in remembering and exalting the indecent tales of ancient days.
“The story of Helen. When she was shipwrecked on the shores of Kartiako, she went hunting but found instead this man, here.” She indicated the male figure who held a staff, and was standing beside an innocent lamb. The image of the lamb had sustained damage about the head, stones chipped away. “She thought he was only a common herdsman, but he was the prince of Kartiako, the son of the regnant. She did not discover his worth until it was too late. Thus we are reminded each time we walk in this garden not to let appearances deceive us. Not to reject too swiftly, lest we regret later.”
“Are you speaking of Lord Hugh’s return to Novomo, Your Majesty? Certainly you rejected him swiftly enough.”
Adelheid looked at her without answering, expression twisted between annoyance and tears, and turned away to break off a twig of clematis. She rolled the leaves against her fingers until they were mashed to pulp.
“I was thinking of Conrad’s daughter,” she said reluctantly. “I regret she was killed in such a cowardly way. She did nothing to deserve it.”
“Your Majesty!” Brother Petrus hurried down the steps with a pair of stewards at his heels. “The envoys have come, Your Majesty! They’ll be here by day’s end.”
Adelheid rose and flicked away the last tear. “We must grant them a splendid reception. Captain Falco, muster all the guardsmen and soldiers. Let them line the streets and array themselves about the palace and the courtyard and the audience hall. Brother Petrus, let my schola assemble, every one. Send Veralia to me. She will supervise my stewards. She must consult with Lady Lavinia. I will go crowned and robed. Afterward, there must be a feast, as fine a meal as can be assembled at short notice.” She recalled her company and belatedly nodded toward Antonia. “What do you wish, Holy Mother?”
Antonia hid her irritation. It was good to see Adelheid so lively, even if it was for a distasteful cause. “Surely you cannot mean to go through with this, Your Majesty?”
“What choice have I?”
“But your own daughter!”
“What choice have I?”
It had come to this. Hugh had come to them, and Adelheid had foolishly driven him off. Now his power was lost forever, and in addition they had lost two excellent hostages.
Worse, he had stolen Heribert, that faithless whore. But she could not let Adelheid know how cruelly this blow struck at her heart. She could never show weakness. She must forget Heribert, consider him dead, slice the cord herself. She should have severed the tie the day he ran away at Sanglant’s order. In this matter, Hugh was blameless. It was Sanglant who had corrupted Heribert.
And in any case, once the searchers found him and returned him to Novomo, she could devise a suitable punishment.
“Holy Mother? Is there aught that ails you?”
“Nay, nothing. I am only reflecting that you are right. What choice have we?”
But after all, Hugh was the treacherous one, doubly so, with plans afoot she could not fathom.
Knowing that they must appear in greatest state before the arriving delegation so that no one would suspect their weakness, Antonia went to the chest sealed with sorcery to fetch Taillefer’s magnificent crown of empire to place upon Adelheid’s brow.
The amulet was sealed properly; yet after all when she opened the chest, she found an empty silk wrapping. Hugh had stolen it, no doubt to crown Sanglant’s daughter as a puppet queen. And now it was lost in the woods, on the back of a panicked horse.
She could only rage while her servants cowered.
2
IN the afternoon of the third day, Lord Hugh and his party came down out of the hilly country closer to the sea’s shore and found an abandoned town that looked as if it had been swept clean by a towering wave. Cautiously, John scouted in through the broken gates and afterward they all followed him. They found the bones of a dog scattered beneath a fallen beam in a ruined house but no sign of recent life. A stream spilled seaward, overflowing its banks where it met the wide waters. Its water had a brackish, oily taste, but they drank anyway and filled up their leather bladders so they wouldn’t have to break open their spare cask of ale.
Lord Hugh prowled the town, seeking signs.
