flatter and cozen, Sophie? Conrad, or Theophanu?”
“It’s true enough, nor can any of you admit otherwise!” said Sophie. “Theophanu was left to be regent for King Henry but given no support. Henry has an army in Aosta, and Sanglant rides east with the army that defeated the Quman. What are you left with, Cousin?”
“My wits.” With an enigmatic smile, Theophanu gestured toward the windows. “It seems the rain has passed. I intend to ride today. My head is quite stuffy from all this chattering. Eagle, you will attend me.”
In this way, Hanna found herself back on a horse and riding beside the princess along the verge of muddy fields where, last autumn, battle lines had been drawn and armies had clashed. Beyond the western shore of the Veser lay the hills where the Quman army had made its camp and where Bulkezu’s prisoners had huddled in those last desperate hours. To the east she recognized the ragged band of forest that concealed the Veserling, where Ingo and the others had rescued her.
“Where are the Lions, Your Highness? They came to you early in the spring, did they not?”
Theophanu nodded. “I keep them in the city to remind my cousins of my authority. These days, they work on the wall. It was let fall into shameful disrepair by my aunt, may she be at peace. I think she must not have been at all well these past few years.”
Together with two stewards, three servants, and a half dozen of the princess’ noble companions, they skirted several ditches half full of rainwater, an attempt to drain off the excess water collecting on the fields, and approached a low hill that rose out of the plain like a bubble. Theophanu waved her companions back but beckoned Hanna forward with her, and with some difficulty the two women urged their mounts up the slippery rise to the top. Alder and oak had been cut back here only recently, and they had to be careful of burned out stumps laying traps for their mounts’ hooves. Wood rush and bramble bush proliferated. Dill had taken root, flowering in yellow clusters alongside cream-colored bells of comfrey. Yetat the height of the hill, in one man-sized spot, the lush greenery turned to blackened ground, as bare as if salt had been sown on the earth.
“It’s said that this is where Bayan died.” Theophanu pulled her mare up beside the barren patch of ground, surveying it dispassionately. “I never met him. What was he like?”
Hanna dismounted, kneeling to touch the earth. A wasp sting came alive in her chest as her fingers brushed the scorched ground. She knew in her bones that Bayan had been killed here, but the eerie sensation that coursed up her hand lasted only an instant. It was only dirt, after all. Catching her breath, she rose. “He was a good man, Your Highness, may he rest at peace in the Chamber of Light. He was no fool.”
“A good match for Sapientia.” Was that sarcasm in Theophanu’s tone? Hanna could not tell.
“She trusted him, Your Highness. With his guidance she gained in wisdom.”
“Then my father chose wisely.”
“In truth, I believe he did. Bayan’s death grieved Princess Sapientia mightily. Things might have turned out differently for all of us, and for the kingdom, if Prince Bayan had not died at Bulkezu’s hand.”
“The Quman prince himself killed Bayan, in combat?”
“Nay, Quman magic killed Prince Bayan. And his mother.”
Such a complicated expression swept over Theophanu’s face that Hanna looked away, embarrassed. But when Theophanu spoke again, no trace of emotion sullied her voice.
“Have you command of the Eagle’s Sight?”
No one stood near enough to hear them. The rest of their party waited obediently at the base of the little hill. “I do, Your Highness.”
“Surely you have sought sight of my father.”
Ashamed, she lowered her gaze. “My Eagle’s Sight is clouded, Your Highness. I have looked for him, but I cannot see him.”
“Is it possible that another hand has clouded your