“It’s true I do not like to see such bright creatures imprisoned by cruel masters.” Wolfhere sounded bored beyond measure, tired of the game. “What do you want, Lord Hugh?”
“Where did you come from? How did you get here?”
Wolfhere sighed.
“You were seen last in the company of Brother Marcus and Sister Meriam. You ran from them. Yet now you appear here, with Meriam’s granddaughter in your care. Where were you? How did you escape the cataclysm?”
“Fortune favored us,” said the old man dryly.
“You were least among the Seven Sleepers. Cauda draconis, the tail of the dragon. They told me that you were too ignorant to weave the crowns. Is that true?”
“Yes, it’s true. I was never taught the art of the mathematici. Mine was the gift of Eagle’s Sight, and of the skills necessary to a messenger who spends his life on the road. Thus, I am peculiarly situated to survive long journeys through hostile lands.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“It matters little to me if you believe me or not, Lord Hugh. Why should it? The battle is lost, and Anne is dead.”
“Thus your purpose for being.”
“Thus my purpose for being,” said Wolfhere in a flat voice. “What is it you want? Or are you merely here to gloat?”
“It’s true I have no liking for you, Eagle. You stole from me the thing that is rightly mine. I mean to have it back.”
“How will you accomplish that? Liath is dead, is she not? Like the others.”
She heard the other man take in a raggedly drawn breath, sharp and sweet. “Not dead. Not dead.”
Abruptly, the old man’s tone became edged. “Where have you seen her? How do you know?”
“Where have I seen her? In Wendar, my friend. Standing beside the bastard who calls himself king.”
“I have heard the tale of Henry’s passing. I wasn’t sure it was true.”
“Oh, true it is, and the prince of dogs crowned and anointed by Mother Scholastica herself, although I think she was not best pleased in the doing.”
“So it is true. And Liath has survived, so you say.” No doubt he was eager to hear these tidings, but he kept his voice low and even.
“Can you not see her yourself, with your vaunted Eagle’s Sight? Have you not spoken with your discipla, Hathui, who has gained the protection of the new king and stands in his very shadow?”
There was a long pause, and a quiet shuffling of feet above her. Anna glanced up to see a shadowed form bent over the trap, looking down toward her, but it was obvious that his eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness below.
“You may as well know that I am blind,” said Wolfhere. “Since the cataclysm.”
“Blinded? Useless and helpless, then. Master of nothing, servant to no one. Yet why tell me so? Why confess as much to me, Eagle?”
“Because I hurt, Lord Hugh. If I tell you that you can gain nothing from torturing me, then perhaps you will not do so.”
“Ah. I suppose it is the Holy Mother—or the queen—who sees you used so ill. What do they want to know?”
“Nothing I would tell you, if I would also not tell them. Leave us be, Lord Hugh. I do not know what is your purpose here. I ask you only for this favor: leave us be.”
“What will you give me in return?”
“In return for what?”
“For leaving you be.”
“So we come around again to my first question: what do you want?”
“Who is Liath’s father?”
“Bernard.”
“And her mother?”
“A daimone of the upper spheres. I am surprised to hear you ask.”
“It was once a closely guarded secret.”
“Yes, once it was. Back when we still held some measure of control over her. Anne took you into the Seven Sleepers. I am not surprised that you lived, when others died, but I am surprised you ask me questions you must already have heard the answers to.”
“Folk may lie.”
“I am shocked to hear it.”
Lord Hugh chuckled. “Is it safe to let you live, Eagle?”
“Oh, indeed it is. I would even call it necessary.”
“Think you so?”
“Of course I must. Leave us be, Lord Hugh. We have nothing you want.”
“No, no,” said the other man musingly. “I’m not sure you do have anything I want.”
She felt warm breath on her neck and heard the merest croak of the step just above the one she stood on, where it had a wobble.