The Gathering Storm
Page 123

Her attention had wandered back to Baldwin. “If report is true,” she said absently, “you were all novices at Quedlinhame.”
“So we were, Your Highness, but we were punished for preaching the true Word. We escaped those who tormented us. Now we walk as best we can to spread the true Word to all those who live in the night of lies and deceit.”
“Then let them preach,” said Conrad impatiently as he rubbed the head of one of his hounds. He glanced up to mark his daughter, and her serious expression immediately melted into a charming grin, a comrade marking her best companion in her battle against the world. He winked merrily at her before turning back to address Sabella. “Let them preach. We were just about to ride out to hunt when you sent for me.”
“Let us preach?” breathed Sigfrid, forgetting that Ivar was their spokesman.
“Let you preach?” said Sabella with a smile obviously intended for Baldwin. “Here in Varre, all are welcome to preach according to their knowledge of the sacrifice and redemption.”
Baldwin seemed struck dumb.
“We are?” squeaked Ermanrich, as Hathumod sighed happily.
“Yes, yes, you are,” said Conrad, tapping a foot on the floor as he lounged back in the chair. His hounds whined and thumped their tails anxiously, catching his mood. “If there’s no other business that needs my attention, Cousin, then I’ll go.”
“Nay, nay, Cousin. Wait a moment, if you please. You see there behind our novices two fighting men, who report has it are Lions, deserted from my brother.”
“Deserters?” Conrad straightened. “I’ve never heard of Lions deserting their regnant. What complaint have you against King Henry?”
“No complaint!” declared Gerulf stoutly. “Nor have we deserted. We marched east to fight the Quman and came temporarily under Prince Bayan’s command.”
“Yet you are not in the east now,” observed Conrad. “How goes the campaign there?”
Gerulf glanced at Ivar, unsure how to respond, but Ivar motioned him forward to stand before Conrad as a messenger. “We have no more recent news than you do, my lord duke. Prince Bayan and Princess Sapientia met the Quman begh Bulkezu on the field of battle beyond the eastern borderlands, and it went badly for them. The Quman are many, and we are few. The Wendish forces desperately need reinforcements or the Quman will overrun the marchlands. That is all we know.”
“Yet two years ago Prince Sanglant defeated this same Prince Bulkezu outside Osterburg, on the Veser River,” commented Conrad. “Or so we heard. Rumor says Prince Sanglant rode east after the battle, to what purpose I cannot say.”
“I hear he means to rebel against Henry,” said Sabella. “Yet how can it be called rebellion when Henry is more interested in his Aostan queen and her lands than in those he claims already to rule?”
“We’ve had no news since the battle Prince Bayan and Princess Sapientia lost to the Quman,” said Ivar.
“Let it be said plainly,” said Conrad. “Henry has married the Aostan queen and remains in Aosta to restore Adelheid’s throne to her, and to play his own games with his dream of Taillefer’s empire. If he chooses to turn his back on his own lands, then he must not be surprised if others choose to rule for him here.”
No sudden death knell tolled from Taillefer’s chapel. No hush dropped like the stench of the grave over the assembly. These words surprised no one except the seven prisoners who had so recently come into town.
“You’re rebelling against King Henry’s authority,” said Ivar, knowing he sounded idiotic.
“Nay, child,” said Sabella. “Henry abandoned us. We are simply caring for those he left behind. I pray you, consider what it means to you that Conrad and I now serve as regents in the kingdom of Varre. You may preach freely. None shall attempt to stop you, excommunicate you, or punish you. Is that not more than you could have expected under Henry’s rule?”
Gerulf muttered angry words under his breath, and Ivar calmed the old Lion by laying a hand on his arm. “Truly, it is more than we expected. We expected to be brought to trial before Biscop Constance on the charge of heresy.”
“Biscop Constance no longer rules here,” said Sabella, while Conrad shifted restlessly. “You are safe from her.”
It was too much to take in all at once. Could it actually be possible that they had found a refuge where they could serve God in peace? “Who do you rule as regent for, if not King Henry?”
“Ah.” The exclamation had no joy in it, nor even as much respectful anticipation as she’d shown when Conrad made his entrance. Conrad rose. Sabella did not. “I am glad you saw fit to interrupt your prayers, Daughter.”