Child of Flame (Crown of Stars #4) 00
“An Eagle came through Darre some weeks ago, sent by Princess Theophanu. Have you heard other news?”
“A messenger from Geoffrey of Lavas reached us, and it broke my heart to hear the lad speak. ‘By the love you bear me, and by the honor you gave to my daughter by designating her as the rightful Count of Lavas.’ He begged Henry to come home. Troubles. Drought and famine, and bandits come north from Salia to haunt the roads. Even talk of the shades of the Lost Ones, ranging out of the deep forests to plague folk with elfshot.”
“Ill news, indeed.”
Villam hadn’t finished. “I had hoped to get a message from my daughter, in Walburg, but I have heard nothing. Tell me, Sister, do you think that Henry ought to remain in Aosta or return to Wendar? It is by no means clear to me that he and Queen Adelheid control enough of Aosta even now that they can expect the imperial crowns to be handed to them without a fight.”
“Surely they can simply take the crowns. No one else is vying for them.”
“That is the risk, is it not? If Henry allows himself to be crowned while Aosta remains in turmoil, with Jinna pirates and Arethousan thieves still in control of half the country.…” He trailed off, extending a hand to catch water from one snake’s mouth and wiping his forehead. It was so dark in the alcove that Rosvita could only see the movement, not his expression.
“Yet if Henry retreats to Wendar, then this foray into Aosta might be seen as a defeat,” she pointed out.
“True enough. Those who make trouble might begin to whisper that he has lost the regnant’s luck.”
Some tone in his voice alerted her. “Are such words being uttered, Villam? Surely not.”
“I do not like Aosta, and even less do I like the intrigues of Aostan nobles. There is something untrustworthy about the entire lot of them. Nay, Sister, I think we neglect the north at our peril. That is what I will counsel the king: that we should return as soon as possible.”
“That will depend in part on the passes over the mountains. Some may be closed by snowfall.”
“If that’s so, we must bide here until next spring.”
“I’ve heard the western passes are still open,” she said.
“Which lead to Salia. That is no route for a Wendish king and his army.”
“Still, Their Majesties can campaign well into the winter if we’re forced to remain here. It may come about that Aosta will accede to their yoke before any decision must be reached about returning north.”
“So we must hope, Sister.” But as he took his leave, he did not seem optimistic.
At last she was free to return to her chambers, where she found Heriburg and Ruoda waiting patiently by the window, talking quietly together, while Aurea swept around the bed. Those two young faces, so eager and full of life, reminded her of her own youth, her first months at King Arnulf’s court. How strange and wonderful the king’s progress had seemed to her then! Yet despite the burdens that age and authority had brought in their wake, she woke every morning eager to be of service to the king.
Anne’s words echoed in her mind. To the king, or to God? To whom was her first allegiance?
“Fortunatus went out with Sister Gerwita,” said Ruoda, rising to kiss Rosvita’s hand. “Gerwita found something…. I don’t know what. He left this with me.” From her sleeve, she drew out the parchment map he had been given by Paloma.
“Aurea,” said Rosvita, “see that no one interrupts us. Let Fortunatus in, if he comes.”
“Yes, my lady.” She took her broom outside to sweep the corridor.
“I pray you, Heriburg, unroll this and hold it open.” Now she could compare this map with the one she had seen in the Tile Chamber. “There, you see, girls,” she said with mounting excitement. “We count perhaps fifty stone crowns recorded throughout the lands, but there are only seven marked with seven stones.” They corresponded, more or less, with the seven spots marked on the other map. “Seven crowns, each with seven stones. What can it mean?”
“Seven jewels in Taillefer’s crown,” said Ruoda promptly. “Six placed equidistant around the rim, just like this, and one in the center.”
“Seven stars in the constellation called ‘the Crown,’” said Heriburg.
“But they’re all jumbled together and it takes keen eyesight to see the seventh. I never have.”
“Seven Sleepers,” murmured Rosvita. “‘Devils afflict me in the guise of scholars and magi… if only I would tell them what I knew of the secrets of the Seven Sleepers.”