Henry sat forward suddenly, his expression lightening. “Here is Father Hugh. What news?”
Hugh knelt before the king. He looked ragged and unkempt. Possibly he had not slept at all. Yet his lack of concern for his appearance, under these circumstances, could only reflect well on him. He alone of all the nobles had remained behind beside the conflagration; he had directed the rescue efforts; he had made sure all who could be brought safely out of the palace were gotten free.
Perhaps it had been a wise choice when Margrave Judith had sent Princess Sapientia on her way, directing her to visit first with the young abbot of Firsebarg, Judith’s bastard son. Poor Sapientia, whose name meant wisdom, had never shown much of that quality; perhaps, with such a name, she had been bound to become sensitive to comparisons to her clever younger sister. But she had chosen wisely when it came to Hugh.
Truly it could be said, as the court wits said now, that he was the ornament of “wisdom.” Even in such a state as this.
“Princess Sapientia sleeps, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice as calm and well-modulated as ever. “Her pains have gone away, but she still feels poorly. With your permission, I will send a message to my mother. Her physician—”
“Yes, I am acquainted with Margrave Judith’s physician.” The king gestured toward Villam. “The man saved my good companion Villam’s life, if not his arm. Very well, send for her—or for the Arethousan, if her business keeps her in the marchlands.”
“What business?” whispered Sister Odila.
“Oh, come,” muttered Brother Fortunatus, “don’t you recall? Judith had to return to Olsatia because she is to marry again.”
“Again?” squeaked young Brother Constantine.
“Hush,” hissed Sister Amabilia, but a moment later she, too, could not contain herself. “I thought she meant to celebrate the marriage here on the king’s progress.”
“Indeed,” said Fortunatus smugly, certain of his sources of information and pleased to have knowledge Amabilia lacked. “But the young bridegroom never showed up. His family made peculiar excuses, so the margrave journeyed back to find out for herself.”
“Hush, children,” said Rosvita.
“… Sapientia has become fond of her Eagle,” Hugh was saying, “and I fear it would upset her at this delicate time to send the young woman away. If another Eagle could be found to ride …” He smiled gently.
The king’s Eagle, Hathui, now leaned forward. “Your Majesty. You have not gotten a report from the Eagle who rode in yesterday.”
The king nodded. Hathui gestured and a young woman walked forward from the back of the hall to kneel before the king.
“Give your report,” said Hathui to her.
The young Eagle bowed her head respectfully. “Your Majesty, I am Hanna, daughter of Birta and Hansal, out of Heart’s Rest.”
Heart’s Rest! Rosvita stared at the young woman but could see no resemblance to any person she recalled from her childhood; it had been so many years since she had visited her home and her father’s hall. Perhaps her brother Ivar knew the family—but it was unlikely unless Count Harl had himself brought the young woman to the notice of the Eagles.
“You sent me south with Wolfhere, escorting Biscop Antonia, late last spring after the battle of Kassel.”
“I remember.”
“I bring grave news, Your Majesty. While in the Alfar Mountains, a storm hit St. Servitius’ Monastery, where we took shelter for the night.” She described a rockfall and the destruction of the monastery infirmary. “Wolfhere believes it was no natural storm. He believes Antonia and her cleric escaped.”
“He found no bodies?”
“None could be found, Your Majesty. The rocks were too unstable to move.”
“Where is Wolfhere now?”
“He went on to Darre to bring the charges against Biscop Antonia before the skopos. He does not believe she is dead, Your Majesty.”
“So you have said.”
At this, she looked up directly at him. “And so I will say again, Your Majesty, and again, until you believe me.”
He smiled suddenly, the first smile Rosvita had seen since their return from the hunt yesterday into the chaos attendant on the disastrous fire. “You believe Wolfhere is correct?”
She hesitated, bit her lip, then went on. “I myself witnessed such sights that night… I saw things, Your Majesty, creatures in the storm such as I have never seen before and hope never to see again! They were not any creatures that walk on earth unless called from—other places, dark places.”
