Many among Sanglant’s retinue spoke at once, calling out questions, but their voices quieted as Li’at’dano paced forward.
“What has been done, is done,” she said. “I will aid you, Liathano, as well as I am able. Let me send my apprentice, Sorgatani, with you.”
“You will not come yourself?” Liath asked.
“My strength is bound to this land. If I leave it, I will die. I will send warriors in my stead, three hundreds of them, who will fight fiercely on your behalf.” She beckoned to a stocky mare with a cream coat and, on her woman’s head, startlingly black hair. “This daughter can be called Capi’ra. She will lead those who fight with you.”
“Does Sorgatani know that those who escort me stand the highest risk of dying? We will battle at the center of it all.”
“She knows.”
Liath nodded. “Then we march as soon as we break camp.”
Sanglant broke in before the shaman could answer. Liath had courage and power, but she had little idea of what made it possible to move an army. “We’ll need help if we are to survive such a long and arduous journey. Can you supply us with guides? Food? Supplies?”
Li’at’dano shifted her weight and made a gesture with her hands that finished with a touch to her bow strap. Had she been a horse, he thought, she would have flicked back her ears to show dislike. She addressed Liath, not him.
“Two days’ ride from here lies a stone crown. It is an ancient monument that was erected here long before my people came to these pasturelands. If you can weave the crowns, then you can travel from one crown to another directly.”
The glare of the sun sharpened. Wind snapped banners and pennants. He raced through the implications of the shaman’s statement, and had to restrain a laugh even as he wanted to cry.
“Why did you not tell me this before?” exclaimed Liath, almost shivering with excitement. “Anne will never expect an attack from that direction! I can do it!”
“With an entire army?” demanded Captain Fulk, then recovered and looked at Sanglant. “My lord prince, if I may speak.” He pressed his horse forward. When the prince nodded, giving him permission, the captain went on. “In this way Hugh of Austra saved Princess Theophanu and Queen Adelheid and their companies from an Aostan lord named John Ironhead, who meant to hold them as hostages.”
“Hugh!” One word from Liath, that was all. She looked away, hiding her face from Sanglant’s view.
“Go on,” he said curtly to Fulk. He hated talk of Hugh.
“Yes, my lord prince. We numbered seventy-five men and fifty horses, many fewer than we have here, and even so the path was fraying as the last of us crossed through, according to the report of Sister Rosvita. She was almost lost as the pathway collapsed behind us. I think it unlikely we can move an army of this size through the crowns.”
“It is not possible,” agreed Li’at’dano. “That any sorcerer accomplished what you speak of—to guide a group as large as the one you speak of—is astonishing. The crowns were meant to accommodate small parties only.”
“Hugh did it,” said Liath in a dangerously rash tone.
“With only seventy-five men and fifty horses,” said Sanglant. “We have near a thousand. And a griffin, whose feathers are proof against magic.”
“Ai, God,” murmured Liath. “I had forgotten the griffin. Can such a creature even pass through the crowns?”
“If I may speak, my lord prince,” said Hathui. “My lady. Consider this as well. Sister Rosvita told me that months passed in the moment that they stepped through the crown.”
Fulk nodded. “As many of us here can attest.”
She acknowledged him and went on. “In that same way, I suppose, four years passed here on Earth while you experienced only a handful of days passing in the world above, according to your testimony.”
“Do you doubt her?” asked Li’at’dano.
Hathui’s smile was sharp. “Nay, Holy One, I do not doubt Liath, for I knew her before, if you will remember, when she was one of that company to which I hold allegiance.”
“Go on, Hathui,” said Sanglant. He had primed her for a speech, although she had cleverly adjusted her terms with the unexpected introduction of the stone crown.
“Sorcery is dangerous, my lord prince, and uncertain. It seems unlikely the entire army can pass through the crowns in any case. In addition, if all of us travel together, then how can we alert our supporters elsewhere? We ought not to move in a single group. It would be better to split up.”