“Ivar!” She felt obliged to scold him despite what he’d said about Rosvita. “Listen to the words of a sister, for I can call myself that. Liath isn’t meant for you. She rides as an Eagle now.”
“She abandoned me at Quedlinhame! I said I would marry her, I said we would ride away together—”
“After you’d sworn vows as a novice?”
“Against my will! She said she’d marry me, but then she just rode away when the king left!”
“That isn’t fair! She told me of your meeting. God Above! What was she to do? You’d already sworn vows. You had no prospects, no support—and she has no kinfolk—”
“She said she loved someone else, another man,” said Ivar stubbornly. “I think she abandoned me to be with him. I think she still loves Hugh.”
“She never loved Hugh! You know what he did to her!”
“Then what man did she mean?”
She knew then, at once, whom Liath had meant, and a sick foreboding filled her heart. “That doesn’t matter,” she said hastily. “She’s an Eagle. And you’re traveling east. Ai, God, Ivar! I might never see you again.”
He gripped her elbows. “Can’t you help me escape?” Letting her go, he answered himself. “But I can’t abandoned Baldwin. He needs me. Ai, Lady. If only Liath had married me, if only we had run away, then none of this would have happened.”
They heard voices at the door, and she hid under a cot as several of Judith’s stewards came in. “Ah, there he is! Lord Baldwin is asking for you, boy. Go attend him now.”
Ivar had no choice but to leave. They rummaged around on other errands that at length took them into other chambers, and she slipped out, unseen. But Ivar’s words troubled her into the evening, when at last king and court gathered for the wedding feast. The bridal couple were led forward wearing their best clothes. A cleric read out loud the details of the dower, what each party would bring to the marriage. Lord Alain spoke his consent in a clear, if unsteady, voice, but when it came Tallia’s turn, King Henry spoke for her. Was she being forced into the marriage against her will, as Ivar claimed? Yet who would quarrel with the regnant’s decision? The children of the nobility married to give advantage to their families; they had no say in the matter. Tallia was Henry’s to dispose of, now that he had defeated her parents in battle.
The local biscop had been brought in from the nearby town of Fuldas to speak a blessing over the young couple, who knelt before her to receive it. Lord Alain looked nervous and flushed and agitated. Lady Tallia looked so pale and thin that Hanna wondered if she would faint. But she did not. With hands clasped tightly before her, she merely kept her head bowed and looked at no one or no thing, not even her bridegroom.
The long summer twilight stretched before them as they crowded into the hall. Fresh rushes had been strewn over the floor. Servants scurried in and out with trays of steaming meat or pitchers of wine and mead. Slender greyhounds slunk away under tables, waiting for scraps. Sapientia allowed Hanna to stand behind her chair and occasionally offered her morsels from her platter, a marked sign of favor which Father Hugh noted with a surprised glance and then ignored as he directed Sapientia’s attention to the poet who came forward to sing.
The poem was delivered in Dariyan, but Hugh murmured a translation to Sapientia.
“She said: Come now, you who are my own love. Come forward.
You are the light which flames in my heart.
Where once were only thorns there now blooms a lily.
He replied: I walked alone in the wood.
The solitude eased my heart.
But now the ice melts. The flowers bloom.
She bids him: Come! I cannot live without you.
Roses and lilies I will strew before you.
Let there be no delay.”
Hanna flushed although she knew well enough that the words were not directed at her, but surely no man had a more beautiful voice than Hugh, and when he spoke such phrases so sweetly and with so much music in the words, even a practical young woman might feel faint with desire.
Quickly enough she steadied herself. Lady Above! No need to be foolish. No need to let Ivar’s madness infect her. There was plenty else to distract her, here at the feast. At the heart of the king’s progress, she could never be bored.
Her faithful companions from the long journey out of the Alfar Mountains, the Lions Ingo, Folquin, Leo and young Stephen, stood guard at the door. Catching her eye, Ingo nodded at her. Perhaps he winked.
At the king’s table, Margrave Judith shared a platter with Helmut Villam. Heads together, they talked with great seriousness. Baldwin sat a table down from them; despite his status as Judith’s new consort and his breathtaking beauty, he did not warrant a seat at the king’s table. And there sat Ivar, beside Baldwin, but he ate nothing except a few crusts of bread and a sip of wine.
