“Tomorrow, then,” said Liath, exhausted at the sight of such a large gathering.
“Will we ride west at last? I fear we may already be too late for King Henry.” Hathui’s gaze was steady. She expected bad news but did not fear to hear it. She had taken three scars to the face in the years since Liath had seen her last and walked with a limp. Her injuries had not dimmed her strong spirit, yet Liath glimpsed vulnerability in her expression.
“You are Henry’s loyal Eagle, are you not, Hathui?”
Pride sparked in her face. She lifted her chin. “I am.”
“Then I’ll tell you truly. I just don’t know. I’ve heard your tale, and I think it likely that his keepers must keep him alive until Princess Mathilda is older. It’s even possible they don’t actually wish to kill him, only to control him.” Despite his twisted nature, Hugh had never seemed to Liath like a man who reveled in death. He would choke you until you yielded, but he would not gleefully spill blood. He liked things tidier and more elegantly disposed. “That’s all we can hope for.”
“What of you, Liath? You gave up your Eagle’s badge to follow Prince Sanglant, yet now the prince has rebelled against his father. It was said you were the great granddaughter of Emperor Taillefer, yet now you deny it. What are you, then? King Henry’s subject? Or do you also count yourself a rebel?”
Liath shook her head. “My fight goes so far beyond the regnant’s authority that I cannot really consider his well-being as I make my plans. If we do not stop Sister Anne, then we may all die. What does his lineage and mine and yours matter then? Isn’t it true that in the Chamber of Light, before God, we all stand as equals? It may be we will find out.”
“And what then?” Hathui’s face and lips were chapped from months of battering by cold and icy wind, yet the sunshine of the last few days had burned her hawk’s nose, now peeling. If it hurt, she seemed not to notice it. She had suffered worse, no doubt.
No, Hathui wasn’t afraid of the truth. She could face down anything.
“What then?” Liath echoed. “I have walked the spheres. I have seen things I cannot describe, though when I close my eyes I can still see them as vividly as ever I did when I faced them. A daimone of glinting ice barring my path. A sea of burning water that ate through the flesh of my hand. A golden paradise rotten with illusion and false hope. Wheels that spun and burned. A rainbow stairway that led up into the highest reach of the heavens. My mother’s death. And more besides, far more.”
Hathui nodded. Liath had not spoken in detail of her journey, not even to Sanglant, but the Eagle understood its momentous import. The wind stirred the grass around them. The sun sank westward and the lazy warmth of its glow melted into her skin.
“I have seen a crown of stars laid out across the land, spanning Taillefer’s empire and far beyond. In ancient times seven sorcerers wove a vast spell to sunder the land. I do not believe that these seven wielded such power because they came of noble bloodlines. I believe they possessed hard-won knowledge, they possessed determination, they possessed courage. They feared and hated their enemy so much that they were willing to risk anything and everything to rid themselves of them. They were willing to die. And to kill.”
Willing to die, and to take friend and foe with them into death. One of these victims she had known.
By unknown sorcery, Alain had come to inhabit the ancient past. What did he know of the great spell woven there? He might possess valuable secrets, crucial knowledge, if only she could find him.
“And then?” Hathui coaxed.
“And then?” The comment left her scrambling to remember what she had been speaking about. “Only this. Why do God grant each one of us souls? Is the soul of King Henry weightier than yours? Or does each woman and man bear a burden of equal worth? If King Henry can save us, then I will follow him gladly. But if he cannot, then I see no need to follow him blindly only because he is the son of a king.”
“These are dangerous words.”
“Are they? Or are they practical ones? Sister Anne is the granddaughter of the Emperor Taillefer, but that does not mean we must do what she wishes us to do only because of her grandfather’s imperial throne.” Examining Hathui’s wary expression, Liath shook her head, dismayed. “Nay, you yourself, Hathui, are worth far more than she is.”
The griffin huffed behind them, and Hathui started, then sidestepped nervously, keeping her gaze half on the griffin and half on Liath as if she were not sure who posed the worst threat.
Would it always be like this? Liath knew her journey had changed her, and now she wondered if she could ever again live easily among humankind.
