The Gathering Storm
Page 57
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“It cannot have helped to find her surrounded by a brace of slaves who worship her as the magician who freed them,” said Breschius. “It must be a frightening sight, my lord prince, to see your daughter growing into her heritage.”
Sometimes silence was worse than shouting.
All she saw were his boots, six steps, a sharp turn, and six steps back, turn again. Only a very, very angry man paced like that, each step clipped and short. Anger flooded out of him until she thought she would drown. Sobs shook her entire body no matter how much she tried to hold them in.
Fully a woman now, in the old tradition. Oh, God, why had she done it?
Now Matto and Thiemo hated each other, and she had selfishly and stupidly and dishonorably neglected her duty to Blessing. What did people do who were turned out in the midst of a foreign country with no kinfolk to aid them? Didn’t she deserve to be sold as a slave or murdered by beggars for her shoes?
“What of your brother, Eagle?” the prince demanded harshly, still pacing.
“I beg your pardon, my lord prince. My own sorrow clouds my mind. Did Zacharias choose to stay with the traitors rather than follow her to freedom? I pray it is not so. Yet if he wanted to follow but could not, then he may now be a prisoner. Or dead.”
“I should not have let Wolfhere and Brother Zacharias go into town, my lord prince,” said Captain Fulk. “I should have known that Princess Blessing would try to follow them. I should not have let Wolfhere go unattended….”
“Nay.” The boots stopped a hand’s breadth from Anna’s nose. Her tears had dampened the pale dirt, turning it dark. “I am to blame. I should never have trusted Wolfhere. I knew what he was. My father is not a poor judge of character, but I let my anger blind me. So be it. Get up, Anna.”
No one disobeyed that tone.
She scrambled up. Dirt streaked her tunic and leggings, smeared her face. Her nose was runny, but she dared not raise a hand to wipe her face clean. She swallowed another sob.
“I have unfinished business,” he said to the others. “Lady Eudokia will not be pleased that I left the palace so abruptly. She’ll consider it an insult.”
“But you left Princess Sapientia and Brother Heribert and most of the rest of the party behind,” said Breschius.
“Yes. Now I must retrieve them and complete the negotiations. Brother Breschius, remain here with Captain Fulk.” He paused, glancing toward the cell where Blessing was confined. The girl’s screams and protests had not diminished, although her actual words were muffled by the earthen walls. She was a persistent child. Wiser and less stubborn ones would have given up shrieking by now, silenced by fear of what was to come or even by an idea that it was better to placate than to annoy.
Not Blessing.
The slaves she had freed knelt beside the door, forbidden to see her although they refused to move away.
“Faithful servants,” the prince observed sardonically. “Let them remain there until I can deal with them. Very well, Captain. You’re in charge.”
He left with a few soldiers hurrying after him.
“Go on, child,” said Brother Breschius kindly. “You’ve sinned, and been punished. Now go and make it right.”
“How can I make it right? Will the prince turn me out?”
“Not this time. Ask forgiveness from the one you’ve harmed the most, and swear to never again neglect your duty. Princess Blessing wasn’t lost. Think of it as a warning to not allow yourself to be distracted again.”
Did he know? She flushed. Surely only she and Matto and Thiemo knew what had transpired last night. She ducked her head respectfully and ran off to the dark cell near to the one where Blessing was confined. The door was so low that she had to crawl inside, but within it was blessedly cool and dark. She smelled blood and sweat and saw the shape of two prone figures in the dim filtering light. Even those unmoving shapes still had the power to awaken in her the desires that had broken free last night: What a fool she was!
“Anna?” Matto groaned and shifted.
“Don’t move,” she whispered, touching his ankle. “Has anyone put a salve on your back?”
“Sergeant Cobbo did,” said Matto, “and swore at me the whole time. Oh, God, Anna. Why did you have to do it?”
“You’re not the only one who suffered,” exclaimed Thiemo.
“You sorry excuse for a man. You only took those lashes because you were afraid that Anna would comfort me if I was hurt and you weren’t!”
“You’ve no right to speak to me in that way!”