The Burning Stone - Page 89/360

“My lord prince,” said Hanna, kneeling abruptly. Hathui, with a tight smile, remained standing, but she inclined her head respectfully. Then Hanna saw the Eika dog, and she recoiled, jumping back to stand beside the table.

“Fear not,” said Sanglant. “It doesn’t have enough strength to harm you.”

“Will it live?” asked Hathui softly.

“You may tell my father that I will nurse it as I am able, since it alone of all my possessions did not come to me through his power.”

Her eyes glinted. “Shall I tell him so in those exact words, my lord prince? I would humbly advise against it, while the king remains in such a humor toward you as he is this day.”

“Plainly spoken, Eagle. Say what you came to say to my wife. I will not interfere.”

Hathui nodded and began. “You ought to have ridden on with Wolfhere, Liath. How can you have traveled with the king’s progress for so many months and not seen what a pit of intrigue it is? How will you fare, here, with the king turned against you and the prince without support? What will you say when princes and nobles come to seek your favor, to gain the attention of the prince? There will always be supplicants at your door, and beggars and lepers and every kind of pauper and sick person, seeking healing, and noble ladies and lords who hope that your influence can give them audience with the king or his children—or who wish to sway the prince to their cause, whether it be just or no.”

Like Conrad. Liath picked up the comb that lay on the table. Such a simple thing to be so finely made. With its bone surface incised with a pair of twined dragons and trimmed with ivory and pearls set into the handle at either end, it marked Sanglant as a great prince who need not untangle his hair with sticks or a plain wood comb but only with something fashioned by a master craftsman.

Hathui went on. “Father Hugh stands accused of sorcery by Princess Theophanu, but if you are called upon to testify before the king against him, how will it fare with you when Margrave Judith’s anger is turned upon you? What if you are accused in your turn of sorcery? The king will never allow you to be recognized as Prince Sanglant’s wife. All that I have named above you will suffer without even the legal standing of wife but only that of concubine. Do you think an Eagle’s oath and freedom—beholden to no one but the king—a fair exchange for the bed of a prince?”

“Liath,” whispered Hanna, “are you sure this is wise?”

“Of course it isn’t wise!” she retorted.

Sanglant stood by the window staring outside. The wind stirred his hair, and the graying light made of his profile—the arch of the nose, the high cheekbones, the set of his beardless jaw—a proud mask. He made no move to interfere.

“Of course it isn’t wise,” Liath repeated bitterly. “It just is. I won’t leave him. Oh, Hanna. You followed me from Heart’ Rest, and now I’ve deserted you—” She grabbed Hanna’s hand and Hanna snorted, still pale, and hugged her suddenly.

“As if I only took an Eagle’s oaths to follow you! Maybe I wanted to see something more of the world. Maybe I wanted to escape young Johan.”

Liath laughed unsteadily, more like a sob. Hanna’s body felt familiar, and safe, caught against her. “Maybe you did. I’m sorry.

“I still think you’re being a fool,” whispered Hanna. “My mother would never have let any of her children marry because of … well …”

“What?”

Hanna spoke so softly that Liath, pressed against her, could barely hear her. “Lust alone. It might be said that you’ve gained advantage by attracting his interest, but you don’t bring anything to him, that would be useful to him—”

Sanglant laughed without turning away from the window, an Hanna blushed furiously. “More use than anyone here can know,” he said as if addressing the bushes, “although I confess freely that I am not immune to the weaknesses of the flesh.”

“But no one makes a marriage only for …” Hanna stuttered to a halt. “My good mother always said that God made marriage as a useful tool, not as a pleasure bed.”

“Ought we to be good, or useful?” asked Hathui sardonically.

“Ought we to be chattering on like the clerics?” retorted Sanglant. “We ought to be seeing that the crops are brought in and that our borders are safe from bandits and raiders, and that our retainers are fed and their children healthy. And that we pray to God to spare us from the howling dogs who nip at our heels.!”

Hanna started back from Liath as if she had been slapped Hathui nodded curtly. “If you wish us to leave, my lord prince.”