Secha rubbed her neck and turned in a slow, complete circle that took in the lightening sky, the massive stones, and the irregular slope of the surrounding hill covered with calf-high grass and a sprinkling of yellow-and-white flowers. To the south the bramble had been cleared away; the land ran in a gentle incline down a long, long slope, and a distant glint marked where shore met sea a morning’s walk away. To the west, a goat ambled into view right at a pronounced notch in the sheltering hillside. It spotted them and dipped its head truculently before vanishing back the way it had come.
It was so quiet that she heard a distant ring of hammer on stone, from the village.
“All gone?” Secha asked, but except for the trampled path she saw no sign of the army.
Sharp Edge nodded, still grinning. “All gone.”
2
THE duke’s banner did not fly from the tower in Autun. The party escorting Biscop Constance rode through empty streets in a town lying quiet beneath dreary skies. At the stairs leading up to the palace on the hill, they waited while a sturdy chair with arms was found. Fixing poles beneath the seat, soldiers braced the poles over their shoulders and carried Constance up the steps, walking sidewise to negotiate switchbacks and pausing at landings to catch their breath.
“Lady Sabella is gone, Your Holiness,” said the steward who came out into the courtyard to meet them. A few servants paused to stare at Baldwin. Otherwise, the place appeared almost deserted. The dust of the courtyard was darkened by the drizzle, which slackened and ceased as a wind blew up from the south.
The sergeant said, “Still out hunting the guivre?”
“No, she and Duke Conrad returned days ago from that expedition. She and Autun’s milites have marched east in the company of Duke Conrad and his army. There’s talk that Varre is to be invaded by the usurper and his army, out of Kassel.”
“I came about the matter of two young boys,” said Constance, “the sons of Geoffrey of Lavas.”
The steward eyed Constance uneasily. “Lady Sabella has left Autun,” she repeated. The leader of the escort—a phlegmatic sergeant—rubbed his forehead. The soldiers who had carried the chair panted like dogs hoping for a drink. “Best take her on after the lady, Sergeant. I was given no instructions.”
And do not want the responsibility if I make the wrong choice, thought Ivar, looking at Sigfrid and Ermanrich, who raised their eyebrows and twisted their lips into little grimaces of speculation.
The steward looked at Baldwin, flushed, and hurriedly returned her attention to Biscop Constance. “It would be best,” she added, without conviction. “Your Holiness.”
“What of the boys?” said Constance, with a kind smile.
“I received no instructions.”
“Lady Sabella sent these men to Lavas, to find me, and yet left you no instructions as to my care should they succeed in their efforts? Considering, I might add, that I was told that the lives of two innocent boys were at stake?”
The steward stepped next to Constance’s chair and bent her head to speak softly. Ivar sidled closer. “The lady sent the party to seek you the same day she departed with Duke Conrad and others to hunt the guivre.”
Constance shook her head. Carefully, she took hold of the steward’s wrist in a light but firm grasp. “What mean you by this mention of a guivre?”
As the sergeant turned away to order his men off to get drink, the steward bent until her lips were within a hand’s breadth of Constance’s ear. “There came reports that a guivre had been sighted in the forest lands west of here. It was killing people and livestock. The lady and the duke went riding, hoping to capture it. They came back mightily displeased, for they found no trace of it despite all their tramping and hunting. Then the news of the usurper came from Kassel. They left so quickly, the lady had no instructions except to bid me hold Autun safely against her return.”
Constance glanced at Ivar. “Do you suppose she forgot me in the heat of the moment?”
“Surely not!” cried the steward, and the sergeant looked back as she hastily straightened up and continued in a normal tone. “I must ask that you be conveyed to the lady straight away, Your Holiness! You cannot return to Lavas Holding!”
“What news from Kassel?” asked Constance, but with the sergeant listening, the steward only shrugged.
“It was all so confused, Your Grace. Queen Tallia was sent to Bederbor to recover her health. A determined band of rogues are causing trouble along the border to the southwest where Arconia meets the lands of both Varingia and Salia. We hear rumors of reavers with poisoned arrows harrying travelers along the roads leading east into Fesse. The usurper was anointed and crowned in Quedlinhame, Osterburg, and Gent, and parades around with an adventus as though he were not merely a bastard. Then there came this news of some manner of skirmish at Kassel. A captain loyal to Sabella sent word he was attacked by the usurper’s forces. So the lady and the duke rode out to bring him aid.”
