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Only that Hugh had said so. Only that Hugh could carry out such a plan. He alone might recognize a daimone, might think to push such a complex interlocking set of spheres into motion, hoping that the promised conjunction would fall into place as the spinning orrery came to rest.

It was so quiet here, shaded and peaceful. A bird chirped, giving her heart. It was good to hear the call of birds again. A doe and half-grown twin fawns trotted into view, looked her way, and slipped into the green. She heard no sign of the others.Advertisement

There.

On the path behind, an aurochs paced out onto the path. It paused, and the wind died, and for an instant there fell a silence that might have extended across the entire world, heavy and profound, woven through all the wild places that have not yet been touched by human hands. Beneath the vault of heaven, a single life is nothing, no more than a catch of breath, a shattering tear, a falling leaf. The tides of the world will ebb and flow regardless. Our lives are less, even, than the wrack upon the shore.

Yet for all that, they are a blessed gift, however small, however brief.

The aurochs bolted, crashing away into the undergrowth, swallowed up by the trees.

She heard the slap of hooves coming out of the east. Swinging around, she pulled free her bow and nocked an arrow. Her spare horse tugged sideways, seeking forage along the verge, but the horse she was mounted on held steady, trained and ready for war. As was she.

The rider came clear, emerging around a bend in the path. He was an ordinary figure, covered by a gray cloak trimmed with scarlet and leading a spare mount behind him laden with a pair of saddlebags.

“Wolfhere!”

As he came closer, he said, “I pray you, Liath. Lower that bow.”

Startled, she twisted the arrow away and stuck it back in the quiver. “God Above. How come you here, Wolfhere? Where have you been? What news? Oh, God. Oh, God.”

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Of course, she could not get the words out. He had come from Kassel. Where else? That was where this path led. She feared to ask them, all the heart and breath squeezed out of her.

“Are you alone?” he asked.

She waved toward the west, at her back, and spoke in a voice more squeak than word, “A small group travels with me, but they fell behind.”

“Who is with you?”

Only then did she recall how he had come to depart from Sanglant and his army in the Arethousan port of Sordaia. “Where have you been all this time? Is it true you tried to kidnap Blessing?”

He recoiled, raising a hand. “There, now, Liath. I am no threat to you. I am alone.”

“What of Anne? You were always her creature, one of the Seven Sleepers!”

He was silent a while. Bunches of bluebells clustered in the shade where the road gave way to underbrush; they nodded as the wind rippled through them. A hawk shrieked far above, unseen beyond the trees. Finally, he shrugged.

“I have spoken of this before. I was raised with Anne. She and I were taught that my service in life was meant for her, for the Seven Sleepers, who continued the work begun by Biscop Tallia and Sister Clothilde. They sought only and always to prevent the return of the Aoi.”

“It seems you did not succeed. Anne is dead, the Ashioi are returned, and the Seven Sleepers are scattered or dead. You may be the last one of them who lives.” She did not mention Hugh.

“I no longer count myself among their number. I was nothing more than the cauda draconis.”

“The tail of the dragon, least among them.”

His smile was faint. But there was something about his smile that she had always trusted, even now, when she knew she ought not to. “As you say. I came to distrust Anne, alas, although I never ceased loving her, as I was taught to do. Some bonds cannot be broken, even when they are betrayed.”

She waited, forgiving him nothing and yet wondering what he would say next. An unseen chain bound her to him, since he was the one who had freed her from Hugh. That ought to count for something. But she also waited for the sound of hoofbeats behind her. If he and Blessing must meet again, she would be here to oversee it.

“When she brought that corrupt woman, Antonia of Mainni, into her councils, then I knew I could no longer serve her. That is why I left the Seven Sleepers behind and rode on my own path.”

“Then who do you serve, Wolfhere?”

“I am in the service of the king, as I have always been. My first loyalty was always to him, whom I loved best and most faithfully. All I did, in the end, was at his command.”

A twig snapped, and she jerked in the saddle. Her mount shied, but after all, it was only a deer in the forest bounding away.

He coaxed his spare mount forward, untied one of the saddlebags, and withdrew a bulky object wrapped in oilcloth to protect it from rain. pqdm.com