In the Ruins, Volume Six of Crown of Stars, by Kate Elliott
Chapter Two, Scene 2

    2

    “I looked through fire for those whose faces I know, Your Majesty, but I saw nothing.”

    Sanglant glanced toward his council members waiting on the ramp that led up into the ruined fortress.  The army had settled down under the afternoon haze to lick its wounds, recover its strength, and assess its numbers and provisions.  “The Seven Sleepers may have protected themselves from Eagle’s Sight.  We must act as if they still live.  They remain a threat.”

    Hathui shrugged.  “I saw flames and shadow. Flashes of things.  An overturned wagon.  Falling rocks.  A horse killed by a falling branch.  None of it made any sense, nor could I hold any one vision within the fire.  And of Liath, I saw nothing.”

    “Ai, God!”  He paced, kicking up ash, and spun to face her.  “Seek her at nightfall, each night, and hope she seeks in turn.”

    “Nightfall is difficult to gauge with this cloud cover and ash fall, Your Majesty.  We might seek each the other every evening and never touch.  The Eagle’s Sight is a powerful gift, but a man butchering a deer has more accuracy and delicacy.”

    He laughed, more in pain than amusement.  “The crowns have the same failing, do they not?  Thus we are spared the weight of a power too great to combat by natural means.  I no longer wonder  - ” He swept an arm wide to indicate the heavens and the shattered forest.  “ - why the church condemned sorcery.  See what sorcery has wrought.”

    “Liath is a mathematicus, Your Majesty.  Do you mean to put her aside because she knows the art of sorcery?”

    He grinned.  “I began as captain of the King’s Dragons.  I have always been a soldier.  If a weapon is put in my hands, I use
it.  And anyway. . .”

    And anyway.  I love her.

    He could not speak those words aloud.  He was regnant now, but his position was by no means secure.  He could show no weakness; he could possess no weakness, and if he did, if he loved unwisely, then he must conceal the nature of his desire or it would be used against him.  In that way the Pechanek Quman had tried to dishonor him by tempting him with a woman’s flesh.  He had come close to falling.

    “Seek her at nightfall, Hathui.  Keep trying.”

    “Yes, Your Majesty.”

    He strode over to those who waited, climbed the ramp until he stood above them, and situated himself so all those gathered below or huddled within the ruined walls could hear.  He raised a hand for silence, and they quieted, but it was never still.  The hiss of falling ash, the crack of breaking branches in the forest, not as many now but sharp and startling each time the sound came, and the moans of the wounded ran beneath his words.

    “Cousin,” he said.  “What accounting have you reached?”

    Liutgard was an excellent administrator and a wise enough soldier that she let her captains fight her battles for her.  When she was younger, her husband had carried her sword as a talisman in place of her, but since his death some years earlier she had shown a disturbing tendency to take to the field herself.      She beckoned her chief steward forward.  That woman tallied their remaining forces and lines of command, about two thousand men and perhaps half that many horses remaining although strays were continually being roped in.  They had salvaged provisions for about three weeks if strictly rationed but were low on fresh water and feed for the horses.  There were not enough wagons to carry all the wounded but crude sledges could be built and the wounded placed upon those and dragged by healthy men.

    “What now, Your Majesty?” Liutgard asked when her steward had finished.

    “Yes, what now?” they asked, all the assembled nobles and captains, those who had survived.

    He was at first silent, but at length he spoke.  “If fire and ash and water have wreaked such havoc here, how badly has the rest of the land suffered?”

    Lord Wichman laughed coarsely and shouted, “Surely we have survived the worst!”

    “Hush!  You fool!” said Liutgard to her cousin.  “Do not tempt God!  There may be worse yet to come.  What do you mean to do, Your Majesty?”

    The curse of foresight had spared him, as it spared all born of humankind.  It was amazing that he had once said to his father: “I don’t want to be king with princes all biting at my heels and waiting for me to go down so they can rip out my throat.  I want a grant of land, Liath as my wife, and peace.”  Such luxury was no longer in his grasp.  If he did not lead, then this army would fall to pieces and much worse would indeed come to pass.

    “We must move out, and swiftly.  This land is too devastated to support an army.”

    “What of Queen Adelheid, Your Majesty?” demanded Burchard.

    Sanglant laughed bitterly.  “You and I both saw the ruins of Estriana.  I think there are no survivors.”

    “Should we send scouts into the town?”

    “How can we tell when another wave may overtake any of our scouts who go down to search?  If we wait for the sea to subside completely, we will suffer losses ourselves from thirst and starvation.  Nay, I pray you, Burchard, we have no choice.  Queen Adelheid is living, or she is dead.  If she is dead there is no help for her.  If she lives, those who have survived with her will lead her to safety.  Our situation is too desperate.”

    Burchard bowed his head, but he did not protest.  Liutgard lifted her chin and nodded at Sanglant to show she approved. 

    “The Brinne Pass,” he continued.  “It’s too late in the year to attempt the higher passes, but there’s a chance at least that we can cross into the marchlands and thence west to Wendar.”

    “At last!” cried Liutgard.  “Home!”

    “Your Majesty,” objected Burchard.  “What about Darre?  What about Henry’s empire?”

    “Without Wendar there is no empire.  Imagine, if you will, how far the tide of this destruction may have spread.  Look at it!  We do not know how distantly the deadly winds have struck or what damage they leave in their wake.  The people of Wendar have already suffered greatly.  If there is no succor for them, they will turn to others who will offer them surety and order.  We must secure what is ours first, our birthright.  When that is safe, then we shall see if my father has an empire left to defend.”

    They knelt to display their obedience, all except Liutgard and Burchard.

    “What of Henry’s remains?” Liutgard asked.

    “His bones and heart must go to Quedlinhame.”

    She sighed.  He recalled her as so young and bright and spirited when they had grown up together in the king’s schola.  Now
she looked as aged as he felt, scarred by Henry’s ill-fated expedition into Aosta and by the events of the last two days.  But she was too strong of spirit to dwell on what could not be changed.  She beckoned to her steward and they spoke together before the duchess turned back to her cousin.  “My steward has been overseeing the boiling, Your Majesty.  She’ll find a suitable chest, and a box for the heart.”

    “So be it.  We’ll camp here to tend our wounded and repair what we can in preparation for the journey to come.  Drink sparingly.  Fulk, send out scouts to search for water, and others to see if there is aught to be recovered from within the forest: wagons or armor, provisions, strays.  Wounded.  Anything.  Bury the dead that you find, but we can leave them no monument and we can carry none of the dead home with us, none but my father.  As soon as the king’s remains are fit to move, we will leave.”

    As the rest dispersed to their night’s bivouac, Hathui came up beside him.  “What of Liath, Your Majesty?  If she reached Dalmiaka, as she hoped, then she is south and east of us.  We’re leaving her behind.”

    “We cannot act unless we know she lives and exactly where she is.”

    “An expedition could be sent.  I would go - ”

    “I haven’t strength or provisions enough to split my forces.”

    “A small group only, Your Majesty.  Ten or twelve at most surely - ”

    “To ride where?”

    “We can guess where she might be.  A scouting expedition only.  I could find a dozen who would be brave enough - ”

    He gritted his teeth and she stammered to a halt, seeing his expression.  “Do not pain me with these objections, Eagle.  Liath is powerful enough to rescue herself.”

    “If she is injured?”

    “Then I am too far away to help her.  For God’s sake, Hathui, do not forget my daughter!  I have not!  I do not know if Blessing lives, or is dead.  If the Horse people kept their oath to us, or have killed her or enslaved her.  I may never know.  But we must march north.  We must march now.  I will not split up my army any further.  No.”

    She met his gaze.  She was a bold woman, and for that he respected her.  “It is a terrible choice, Your Majesty.”

    “It is the choice that has to be made.  We are two thousand here with at least a thousand horses, without enough water, feed,  and food, in hostile country swept by untold damage, and with winter coming and mountains to be crossed.  Our situation is dire.  If we lose Wendar we have lost everything.  Liath will find us if she lives.”

    “I will pray, Your Majesty.”

    “So will we all.”