Child of Flame (Crown of Stars #4)

Child of Flame (Crown of Stars #4) Page 319

“Are you learned in astronomy, Sister?”

“I confess ignorance in such matters. I learned no more than any apt pupil would in a convent. I can recognize the constellations and I can identify the wandering stars in the sky.” She smiled slightly. “I remember that Aturna takes twenty-eight years to circle the zodiac, while Mok takes twelve, but I confess I cannot recall the periods of the others. Somorhas and Erekes lie between Earth and the sphere of the Sun, so they are often lost in the glare of the Sun. Somorhas appears as both Morning and Evening Star, never at the same time, and sometimes disappears altogether. I pray pardon, Holy Mother. Early in my studies I became enamored of history, and I neglected the other arts in its favor.”

“So it appears,” said the skopos, yet by no means did she speak reprovingly, only to note what she had heard. A bell rang softly. The servingwoman hurried to the door, spoke there with an unseen servant, and returned to the Holy Mother.

“The emissary from Salia, Your Excellence.”

“Let him in.”

A portly man, flushed from the heat, knelt on the steps to kiss the skopos’ ring. “Holy Mother.” He dabbed at his face with a handkerchief, but it might have been fear of the hound and not the heat that made him sweat so freely. “I am at your service.”

“Here is Brother Severus,” said Anne to the emissary, indicating the elderly cleric. “You will take him personally to Salia on your return, and see that his every wish is fulfilled. He is my personal representative.”

“I am at your command, Holy Mother.” He spoke Dariyan with the distinctive Salian accent, the soft “v” hardening, the hard “gn” going soft. “I do not know if we can cross the pass this late in the year. I’ve gotten word that there’ve already been heavy snows in the northern passes, quite untimely.”

“But you have heard no reports from the western passes, Brother. I feel sure that if you leave at once, you will have a successful journey.”

He eyed her with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Perhaps he had heard the rumors that she was a powerful sorcerer, exactly the sort of person whose activities had been condemned as recently as one hundred years ago at the Council of Narvone. It was not something ever spoken of out loud and certainly never to her face.

Or maybe he was only afraid that the black hound was going to lunge to its feet and rip his face off.

“As you command, Holy Mother. We can leave in the morning, if that is your wish.”

“It is.” Anne dismissed him, and the servingwoman escorted him to the door. After a silence, she rose and, with the hound at her heels, came down to the table, smoothing her hand over the ancient papyrus. It had gone yellow with age, flaking at the edges. “What evidence do you need, Sister Rosvita, to be convinced of the danger that awaits us all if we do not act?”

“Perhaps it is impossible to convince me, Holy Mother, without hard evidence, but that does not mean I cannot see the purpose to preparing for such an eventuality, in case it comes about. Yet why would Sanglant’s mother come to Henry and offer an alliance if her people wish only to enslave and dominate us? Can a dialogue not be started?”

“With whom? Where is the Aoi woman now, Sister? Where is Prince Sanglant?”

“I cannot answer either question.”

“The Aoi woman has returned to her people to raise an army, now that she sees that humankind have no will to fight. Prince Sanglant also left to gather an army.”

“For what purpose? How do you know this?”

“Surely you know of that skill commonly called ‘Eagle’s sight’? Eagles are not alone in making use of it.”

The wick of one of the lamps hissed as it came to the end of the oil. The servingwoman hastened to refill the belly of the lamp while Rosvita caught hold of her thoughts, for once so horrified that she could not even voice mindless pleasantries to pass the awkward moment. If Anne could use Eagle’s sight, then she could spy on anyone.

Anyone.

Yet even Anne could not spy on people constantly, and then only one at a time, using such methods. Every skopos was known to have spies, clerics moving through the palace in Darre and the courts of far-flung regnants, reporting back what they observed to the Holy Mother. How was this different?

“Where is Prince Sanglant now, Holy Mother?”

Odd, and troubling, to see annoyance brush its sharp claws across that normally serene face. “Well hidden,” said Anne, reaching to scratch the hound’s ears, and by this means concealing her expression as she went on, “no doubt with the aid of his mother’s magic. Why conceal himself if he has nothing to hide?”