He nodded. “You’ll be meeting him with some difficulty, then. We are stuck here, just at the edge of the valley. Lady Sabella and Duke Conrad have set a siege around Kassel, and we must siege them in our turn and hope to coordinate our attack with those holed up inside the town.”
“Where is the king? Wasn’t Duchess Liutgard with him?”
“They are inside Kassel. With five hundred men.”
“Ah.”
“I’ve sent my scouts back to let our lady know your troop is coming, so we wouldn’t be surprised. You’ve a score or more fighting men there.”
“And twoscore Lions, marching in the rear guard.”
He gave her a heartfelt grin. “Well met, indeed, Eagle. I’ll lead your party in.”
“Let me follow the other scouts,” she said, “and you return with our company.”
He began to object, but she rode off quickly so she could not be stopped. She had to get to Theophanu first, before Mother Scholastica could drop this sword—called Sapientia—into Theophanu’s lap without warning. Hanna did not understand how the currents swirled in this river, but like all the rest of the old company come so far out of the south, she placed her faith in Sister Rosvita. It was obvious that Rosvita and Scholastica were at odds.
The other riders had bolted so fast that she saw only their hoofprints, but no other sign. She rode through quiet forest, noises fading away around her, and wondered how far she had to go and where Duke Conrad and Lady Sabella’s scouts might roam. A few birds chirped; it was a relief to hear them. If there was game abroad, it was drowsing in the early afternoon warmth, such as it was. She had yet to be warm enough to take off her cloak, and she had begun to think she never would be. But it was warm enough that she pushed down her hood and let the cool breeze brush along her hair.
She shivered, but not because of the wind. Something was watching. She felt the pressure of other eyes. Scanning the foliage, she saw nothing. But with a second look, she saw a flash of white. And there it was.
A creature stared at her from the cover of a screen of high bushes. It had hair as pale white as her own, skin the color of iron and eyes as black as those of a crow, slick and sharp as it waited to scavenge.
It saw her, seeing it. They shared that look, and she went cold and then hot. Fear choked her, and yet for some reason she kept to that steady walk as if to change pace would be to jolt her held breath into a scream.