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“Fear of Liath seeking comfort from Wichman? I think not!”
“Nay. Fear of him harming her. Look at his posture.”
It seemed that Wichman rode a little off-balance, that he was in fact leaning somewhat away from his interlocutor, keeping his distance.
“That damned phoenix,” said Sanglant. “She will gnaw at it.”
“She is what she is, Your Majesty.”
He sighed.
Ahead, a scout appeared at a canter. The man reined in and waited, and when the king’s party were in earshot, announced:
“Ahead! The lady’s mount has gone lame and they’re arguing over whether to leave it.”
“There’s the wrong battle to be fighting,” muttered Fulk.
Hathui chuckled.
“The better to fall into our hands,” said Sanglant wearily. “I am relieved we have no great hunt to pursue.”
The noise of their company reached Ekkehard’s party before they came upon them in a clearing surrounded by hornbeam and oak. A few trees lay cracked and fallen, trunks stretched over hawthorn and dogweed and flowering stitchwort. The others towered like pillars, overseeing the hapless soldiers and frightened lady scrambling to mount horses made restive by their handlers’ fear. Ekkehard was already in the saddle. He rode forward to confront his brother, placing himself between his pursuers and his retinue.
“What have you come for?” he demanded imperiously. “I won’t go back to Gerberga!” He drew his sword.
Sanglant motioned the others to fall back and rode himself to meet the younger man on the path. He pitched his voice to carry. “I pray you, Ekkehard, come quietly. Lady Theucinda cannot marry a man who is already married. Or do you mean to bed her and then cast her off?”
The girl looked up, hearing Sanglant, but she was just a little too far off for him to study her expression.
“I do not!” objected Ekkehard. “That’s not what I intend! I’ll marry her!”
“Are you not already wed to Gerberga?” Sanglant asked as pleasantly as he could. “Did you not already consummate the marriage?”
Ekkehard’s deep flush made him look furious and ridiculous. Sanglant felt a flash of sympathy for the rash fool, but it passed as soon as he remembered that Ekkehard had ridden with Bulkezu and his Quman invaders.
“For shame,” Sanglant said in a voice only the two of them could hear. “For shame, Ekkehard. Take your punishment, which you have earned. Does Gerberga abuse you?”
“She does not,” admitted Ekkehard sulkily. “But she doesn’t respect me. She only respects my rank and title. She wouldn’t have wanted me if I wasn’t Henry’s son.”
He brandished his sword. Sanglant’s men murmured with alarm, but Sanglant raised a hand to quiet them. Ekkehard was only expressing his frustration.
“Why can you have what you want?” added Ekkehard craftily. “Why can you, but not the rest of us? No one wants her as queen. She’s born of no particular noble house, only a minor landholding family, she admits it herself, that she isn’t really Taillefer’s granddaughter. She’s some kind of creature, a daimone. Maybe she has no soul. And she’s a sorcerer. So why must I marry for the sake of alliance, to benefit my family, if you don’t have to?”
There was no answer to this reasonable question.
Ekkehard grinned triumphantly. “It’s just that you can, and I can’t. Because you have the army, and I am a prisoner.”
Was that ringing in his ears his blood and anger rising? Everyone listened and watched. In battle, he always knew how to counterstrike, but in the courtier’s world he was not as adept.
A sharp tang as of iron made him sneeze. Had there been a chapel in that last village, where bells might be ringing?
Ekkehard lifted his chin, very much like the boy who has at last defeated his powerful rival. “You can’t answer me!” he crowed.
“Sanglant!” Her voice cut through everything else.
He turned in the saddle to see Liath pressing her mount forward, to see her speaking as she rode in a manner that caught Hathui and Fulk’s attention. His guardsmen scattered like chaff before wind.
“What?” he began.
