Child of Flame

“My lady.” Aurea appeared in the door. “Brother Petrus has come.”

It was time to attend the king, although Rosvita thought it strange that a presbyter came to fetch her rather than one of Henry’s own stewards. She took Fortunatus with her and sent the young women to the schola. They joined Henry and the court for midday prayers in the king’s chapel while, as was customary in Aosta, Queen Adelheid and her entourage prayed in the queen’s chapel. A colonnade connected the two buildings, and here Henry brought his retinue after the service of Sext concluded, to the royal garden.

“Walk with me, Sister Rosvita,” the king said as he strolled out into the garden.

Statues of every beast known to the huntsman stood alongside gravel paths bordered by dwarf shrubs or hidden beyond the taller ranks of cypress hedges. Stags and wolves, boars and lions and aurochs, guivres and griffins and bears glowered and threatened. Yet their threats weren’t nearly as great, Rosvita thought, as the busy courtiers of Aosta with their bland smiles and charming manners.

Beyond a square fence lay a captivating floral labyrinth whose twisting paths were delimited by beds of hyssop and chamomile, bee-flowers, a purple cloud of lavender, and the last pale flowers of thyme. Summer had leached away the strong fragrance, but there was still enough lingering that, when Henry opened the gate and beckoned to her to follow him onto the narrow paths, it was like walking into a perfumed sachet.

She knew the path better than he did and had to guide him past two wrong turns until they reached the bench placed at the center, surrounded by a circle of neatly trimmed rosebushes. From here, they looked back out over the low box shrubs as Adelheid emerged from the queen’s chapel, attended by Hugh and her ladies. Seeing Henry, Adelheid disengaged herself from her courtiers and struck out across the garden toward them.

“Let me speak quickly, Sister.” The summer’s campaign had tired Henry out. New lines nested at the corners of his eyes and he favored one leg. “It has become known to me that there is serious trouble in Wendar, more serious than anything here in Aosta. Duke Conrad has married against my will. There are rumors he seeks to raise himself up as a prince equal to me, in the west. A Quman army has invaded in the east. Merchants bring stories of an Eika attack on Alba, more like an invasion than a raid, that might disrupt trading for many years. Plague, famine, and drought all trouble my loyal nobles. How can I reign in Aosta if Wendar falls into ruin? In truth, Aosta has suffered for years these manifold trials. Another year of campaigning and I surely can be crowned as emperor without any powerful noble family raising arms against me. But in my heart I know it is the wiser course to return to Wendar now. Yet I would hear your words, Sister, before I make any public pronouncement.”

“This is a grave charge you set on me, Your Majesty.”

He nodded. “So it is. Villam has already made his opinion clear. He counsels that we ride north as soon as we can, given the rumors we’ve heard of early snow in the mountains. If we do not make haste, we’ll not be able to cross the passes until next year. I cannot tell what might happen in Wendar over the winter and spring if I am not there to set things right. What do you advise, Sister Rosvita?” His gaze was keen, almost merciless. He wore an ivy-green tunic today, trimmed with pale silk, and the hose and leggings that any nobleman might wear, but no person, seeing him, would mistake him for anyone but the king.

“I pray you, give me a few moments to think.”

Adelheid reached the gate, had it opened for her by one of her servingwomen and, with a sweet smile on her pretty face, threaded inward along the intricate paths. She knew this labyrinth well.

“There are those who advise against returning to Wendar.” He watched his young queen with an odd expression in his eyes, like a man who is pleased and exasperated in equal measure. His gaze flicked outward to where Hugh stood in conversation with Helmut Villam, Duchess Liutgard, and other notables. “I have heard rumors.”

“So have I, Your Majesty, and I see no reason to believe what gossips will whisper. Speaking evil of others is a sin that hurts not one but three people, the one who is spoken of, the one who speaks the falsehood, and the one who listens to such slander. Queen Adelheid is an honorable woman, and a clever one. I do not believe you have any reason to fear that she has dishonored your marriage.”

In truth, how could any woman even think to look at another man if she was married to Henry? It beggared the imagination.

He plucked a beautiful blood-red rose from the nearest bush. “Yet even the freshest bloom has thorns.” He twisted a petal off the stalk and touched it to his lips. “What do you advise, Sister?”