In the Ruins (79 page)

Sanglant had escaped death at the hands of the galla. That meant it was possible to survive where the galla stalked.

“He is dead,” she murmured, trying the word on her tongue, savoring it but finding it bitter and unreliable.

Alexandros’ good eye studied her, then examined the chamber, the servants, the walls, and the lamps, each in turn, as if marking the position of his enemy before battle is joined. His gaze halted on the empress. The taut line of his mouth softened. Adelheid’s crown gleamed under lamp light. The gauzy glamour of the light made her look young again, particularly handsome this night, a gentle, pretty woman in need of a strong arm to hold her upright in stormy weather.

Like Henry, Alexandros was a fool. So were all men.

All but Hugh, now that she thought on it. Hugh had never desired Adelheid. Yet Hugh had been a fool like all the others; he had only fixed on other prey.

As she must.

Alexandros spoke. “Who is most dangerous to us, in the north? It must be Sanglant, the king. If Wendar is strong, then Wendar threatens us. If Wendar is weak, they will not attack us. Already we must guard on our south against the Cursed Ones. On our east, against the Jinna. I say: kill Sanglant, and we are safe a while from Wendar.”

“It’s said he can’t be killed,” said Antonia, “although I’ve never believed it.”

“Henry believed it,” said Adelheid. “He spoke of it often. He
bragged
of it. How could he have loved that one more than the others? Well. Maybe it’s true, but we must
still try. And what of his wife? The sorcerer, Liathano? Isn’t she dangerous?”

“Liathano!” Alexandros nodded vigorously. “The prince’s concubine. She who is named after the Horse woman who cannot die.”

“How comes it you have heard of her?” asked Antonia.

He smiled, taking his time, and answered. “We are allies for a time with King Geza of Ungria. He took Princess Sapientia as his wife.”

“She was married to Geza’s brother, Prince Bayan,” cried Adelheid. “Henry would not have liked that! A naked grab for power!”

Alexandros chuckled. “We are all naked, Your Majesty,” he said in a way that made Antonia wonder if she ought to trust him less, or trust him more.

The words made Adelheid laugh. She drank her wine.

“This one, called Liathano,” continued Alexandros. “At her we strike, if the man stands beyond our reach.”

“Tempting,” mused Antonia. “She is powerful. It isn’t likely we can harm her.”

“What harm to try?” demanded Adelheid. “Strike there, and you weaken Sanglant. It is only a few galla.”

“What harm except to the men whose blood must be spilled to call the creatures out of the Pit,” said Antonia with a frown, not liking the empress’ levity. “If we kill heedlessly, our own people may turn against us.”

“There are guilty aplenty who have earned death,” said Adelheid.

“And many innocent who deserve life,” said Alexandros, “but are dead.”

The fool believed in innocence, no doubt because he must believe his wife and children stainless although every Arethousan was stained by their heretical beliefs. It was only remarkable that God had waited so long to castigate them.

“Your Majesty. Lord General. I am willing to act against the one called Liathano. But what does it benefit us to kill her, beyond the satisfaction of revenge?”

Adelheid shook her head. “Revenge is satisfaction
enough! Reason enough! If Sanglant cannot be killed, then kill what he loves best. Send galla. Send spies. Send what you will. But if she is dead, then he will suffer as I have suffered. That is good enough for me.”

FROM Gent, the king and his retinue rode to the northern sea. Just as the young guardsman had reported, the shoreline was substantially altered. The river had lost its path to the sea and now spilled into a vast expanse of marsh where once it had pushed through in a double channel emptying into the wide northern waters. The shoreline, according to a pair of locals who guided them, had actually receded, leaving the seabed exposed and sandy flats scoured by the winter winds, casting sand inland in great stinging storms.

“After the tempest,” said the spry crone whose commentary Sanglant found most reliable, “the river ran backward, and eddied, for a fortnight. There was flooding upstream. Yet water will flow north out of the southern hills. Now, you see,” she pointed at the expanse of flat ground cut by ribbons of trickling water, “how it is clawing a hundred finger tracks to the sea.”

They stood on a bluff overlooking what had once been the deeper, western channel. Its exposed troughs had only a trickle of water pushing through them. The rest of the ground was slick with rocks and water weed, and littered with the skeletons of a half dozen sunken, battered ships. Here and there he glimpsed what might be bones tumbled every which way. A vast, rusted chain snaked across the old channel.

Liath was exploring through the muck below with Sibold and Lewenhardt in attendance. They were laughing at something Sibold had pried up from a muddy hole, but he couldn’t see what it was. Liath straightened and looked up toward him, lifted a hand to acknowledge him, and went back to her excavations.

Sanglant wandered along the bluff, marking where unknown folk had built and later abandoned two ballistae.

“I wonder,” said Hathui, who remained always at his side, “if these are the catapults used by Count Lavastine to break the Eika fleet as it escaped out to sea.”

“Lavastine? This is not his county.”

“He was with King Henry, Your Majesty, when the king brought an army to retake Gent.”

“Of course. I recall it now. His heir …”

He paused, remembering with unexpected clarity that awful moment at the feast held to celebrate King Henry’s victory at Gent over the Eika chieftain, Bloodheart. After gorging on food laid out before him, he had had to bolt into the darkness to empty his stomach. He had been, in those days, little better than a prince among dogs, half wild, barely conscious of his human mind. Lavastine’s son had come to him at the edge of camp, and Lord Alain had treated him gently, with respect and kindness, so that he did not feel shame at his condition. He touched the gold torque at his neck, where once an iron collar had chafed him. “
As long as you wear the collar at your neck, then surely you will not be free of Bloodheart’s hand on you
,” the young man had said to him.

True words, although he hadn’t understood them then.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

“Lavastine’s heir? It transpired that he was not after all Lavastine’s son, bastard or otherwise. Lord Geoffrey’s daughter was named as heir. The one called Alain might have been punished more severely, but it wasn’t possible to prove that he had had a deliberate hand in the deception. Some declared that Lavastine had forced the youth to accept his position as son. Most in the county praised his stewardship. The king chose to be merciful and allow the lad to serve him another way. He marched as a Lion into the east. After that, I do not know.”

“He showed me kindness. I can’t forget that.”

He returned to the locals, who had obviously explored this site before and in the intervening years scavenged what they could from the wreckage. On the highest windswept curve of the bluff he stood knee-deep in windblown grass as he surveyed the land.

Liath and her companions had struck out across the old channel, following the path made by the massive chain. Beyond the riverbed, to the east, lay rockier ground, and beyond that a delta of reeds and drowned grass. In the other direction, to the west, had once lain pastureland and broken woodland, but these had turned to marsh, and now the scrub and trees soaked their feet in water. North, the old tidal flats that had once surfaced only at low tide gleamed in barren splendor, completely exposed. The sea shone in the distance, visible as a shimmer of silver running below the pale horizon of cloud.

“Snowmelt,” said the crone. “Floods from the melt cut those little channels through the flats. There was plenty of snow last winter and too much rain in the autumn, before the great storm. But we’ve had no rain for planting season.”

“It’s like the heavens closed right up,” said her cousin, who was quieter but more inclined to fancy. “Like they was a wineskin run dry.” He nodded to himself, and grinned, liking his comparison.

“You’re quite the poet!” retorted his skeptical cousin. She was steward at a royal estate and had, as a child, spoken once to King Arnulf the Younger himself, so she had no hesitation in addressing a new king young enough to be her grandson. “What it means to us, Your Majesty, is that we’ve had no planting season, what with this frost and every night so cold. Will these clouds ever leave?”

Sanglant had no answer. The tides of destruction had reached farther than he had ever dreamed possible. He could only assess the changes in the land and, with his progress, ride on through a world transformed.

Historical characters are not listed as deceased.

Characters listed as deceased are those who died within fifteen years (or so)
before
the action in
King’s Dragon
begins. Characters who die during the course of the series are not listed as deceased in this list.

Wendar and Varre:

King Henry (son of Arnulf the Younger and Mathilda of Karrone) (king regnant)

his bastard son by Alia (Kansi-a-lari):

Sanglant

his children by Sophia of Arethousa (first wife):

Sapientia

Theophanu

Ekkehard

his children by Adelheid of Aosta (second wife):

Mathilda

Berengaria

Henry’s brothers and sisters
:

Richildis (renamed Scholastica, abbess of Quedlinhame)

Rotrudis (duchess of Saony)

Benedict (married to Marozia of Karrone)

Constance (biscop of Autun and later duchess of Arconia)

Bruno

various other children who died in infancy

Alberada (Henry’s illegitimate half sister, daughter of Arnulf the Younger, now biscop of Handelburg)

Sabella (half sister, daughter of Arnulf the Younger and Berengaria of Varre)

the Regnant’s Progress:

His Schola
:

Rosvita

Her Clerics
:

Amabilia

Constantine

Fortunatus

Gerwita

Heriberg

Jehan

Jerome

Ruoda

Aurea (a servant)

Other Clerics
:

Elsebet

Eudes

Monica

His Lions
:

Thiadbold (a captain)

Artur

Dedi

Folquin

Gerulf

Gotfrid (a sergeant)

Ingo

Karl

Leo

Stephen

Fridesuenda (Dedi’s betrothed)

His Eagles
:

Ernst

Hanna

Hathui

Manfred

Rufus

Wolfhere

Sanglant’s Retinue
:

m. to Liathano

      Blessing (their daughter)

His Schola
:

Breschius

Heribert

His Personal Guard
:

Captain Fulk

Captain Istvan

Anshelm

Arnulf

Berro

Chustaffus

Cobbo

Den

Ditmar

Everwin

Fremen

Johannes

Lewenhardt

Liutbold

Malbert

Maurits

Sibold

Surly

Wracwulf

Blessing’s Retinue:

Heribert (see also schola, above)

Anna

Berda

Matto

Odei

Thiemo

Jerna (a daimone)

personal servants:

Ambrose

Johannes

Robert

Theodulf

other retainers:

Gyasi (a Quman shaman)

   his nephews, including Odei

Gnat (a Jinna)

Mosquito (a Jinna)

Argent (a male griffin)

Domina (a female griffin)

royal households:

Henry’s servants:

Wito (a steward)

Sapientia’s companions:

Everelda

Theophanu’s companions:

Gutta (a serving woman)

Leoba

Ekkehard’s companions:

Benedict

Frithuric

Lothar

Manegold

Milo

Thiemo

Welf

The Duchies:

Saony

Duchess Rotrudis

her children:

Imma

Sophie

Wichman

Zwentibold

Reginar (abbot of Firsebarg)

Marcovefa (a Salian concubine)

Rowena (a deacon)

Fesse

Duchess Liutgard

m. to Frederic of Avaria (her husband, deceased)

their children:

older daughter

Ermengard

Avaria

Burchard and Ida

their children:

Wendilgard

Agius (a frater)

Frederic (m. to Liutgard of Fesse, deceased)

Ucco (a mountain guide)

Arconia

Berengar and Sabella

their daughter:

Tallia

Amalfred (a Salian lord)

Tammus (a captain, known also as Ulric, keeper of the guivre)

Wayland

Conrad (called “The Black”)

m. to Eadgifu of Alba (first wife)

their children:

Elene

Aelfwyn

m. to Tallia of Varre (second wife)

their children:

Berengaria

two daughters (died in infancy)

Foucher (a foreman at the mines)

Robert (a criminal)

Walker (a slave at the mines)

Will (a slave at the mines)

Varingia

Duchess Yolanda (daughter of Rodulf the Elder and Ida)

Rodulf the Younger

Erchanger

Towns & Counties:

Autun:

Ulric (a captain)

Erkanwulf (a soldier)