The Burning Stone (Crown of Stars #3)

The Burning Stone (Crown of Stars #3) Page 328

“We meant no offense by closing our gates,” said the scarred woman who acted as spokeswoman for the council. The scars looked recent, two slashes on her chin. “Not that we don’t trust the king’s milites, mind you, but we’ve had trouble recently with armed bands. Better to be safe. War’s coming, they say.” The council members nodded. The girl brought a fresh pitcher of mead and refilled cups all the way around the table.

“What kind of armed bands?” asked Hanna. Some of the words the woman used were unfamiliar, and her accent was a bit odd, although once she got used to the hissing it was easy enough to understand. “Bandits? Barbarians?”

“We’ve Salavii neighbors, it’s true, but it’s not them we’re worried about now. Just four days ago a wild group of young men come from the west claiming to be noble sons of Saony. There was trouble, and it weren’t pleasant. They did that to three of the girls here in town that isn’t right, begging your pardon, Eagle, and one of our lads got knifed in the bargain. But Lady Fortune smiled on us. Just when things were about to get ugly, Margrave Judith rode up with a host, why, surely as large as yours and perhaps larger, for she had more horses and riding men. She turned them out with a sharp word!” The others at the table nodded as they, too, remembered the incident. “But the damage was done. Poor young Hilde hung herself at the old oak tree two nights ago, and there’s some who want to cut it down because of evil spirits. It’s the place where our old mothers used to leave offerings to The Fat One—” Here, at a sharp gesture from one of her comrades, she smiled nervously and gestured to the servant to bring forward bread. “But that’s none of your worry, Eagle.”

“Of course it is my worry,” said Hanna. “If bandits are plaguing you, or even noblewomen’s sons, then King Henry will wish to be told of it.”

“What can he do?” asked one of the men bitterly. “The leader of them wild boys claimed to be the king’s nephew. What will he do? We are nothing to the king.”

“It’s true that you’re no blood kin of the king’s, friend. But you live under his protection, and if he lets wild young men, even his nephew, take what they want and harry as they will among those folk who look to the king for protection, then he might as well hand the whole of his treasure over and set aside his crown. The king does not tolerate disobedience, even from his nephews. I’ve seen civil war, my friends, and I know that King Henry will not tolerate any behavior that cuts into his authority. No more would you let your own young children run roughshod through your house, overturning the tables and throwing the apples out to rot.”

They nodded, seeing the wisdom in this answer.

“What was his name, who was leader of that warband?” But they didn’t know, or wouldn’t answer. They were still afraid. The bread steamed when she broke it open. “Well, then, what of Margrave Judith? Did she say where she was marching? What road did she take when she left here?”

“East and south, she said,” explained the scarred woman. “She was going at the summons of the king’s daughter, so we heard. That’s how we know war’s coming. There’s been fighting. Some say the wing-men are coming. We’ve spoken of building a second palisade. Is it true they cut off people’s heads?”

It took Hanna a moment to figure out who the wing-men were. “I’ve heard that story,” she said cautiously, not wanting to scare them. And yet, what chance did this village have against a host of Quman warriors? They had built a stout palisade and a good steep-sided ditch further fortified by stakes at the bottom, but there weren’t all that many of them. “I rode with Princess Sapientia and Prince Bayan, her husband. They defeated a host of Quman, but it was only an advance force.”

“Should we abandon our homes and go west?” demanded the man who had spoken before.

“Nay, Ernust,” retorted the scarred woman. “If we leave, then those damned Salavii tribesmen will just move in and take our village, and never give it back!”

They all began to argue with a passion that showed they had quarreled over this point many times in the last few days. At last the scarred woman pounded her cup on the table until the rest fell silent. She turned to Hanna.

“What do you advise, Eagle?”

They looked at her expectantly, and she thought she had never been offered a heavier burden than the one implicit in their gazes. She didn’t know how much weight they would give her opinion, and yet any words she said now might make the difference between life and death for them.