Here it came. Poor Ivar; he had always been one to shoot the deer before he had the bow in his hand. “Where would we go?”

“I heard the Dragons rode through Freelas, with the prince himself leading them. They say there’ve been Eika raids this spring and summer all along the northern coast. The biscop sent word to King Henry there’s been a sighting out at Sheep’s Head.”

“Do you truly suppose the Dragons would take me? You’re a count’s son, and you have fighting skills. If your father petitioned King Henry, he would take you. But I’ve nothing more than what my Da taught me to defend ourselves while traveling. I don’t have kin to speak for me. And I can’t imagine why I would want to join the Dragons, when everyone knows they get all the worst fighting and will most likely die before their first year of service is up.”

Stung by her words, he flushed. “I suppose Hugh’s bed is comfortable enough, is it?”

“Take it back! How dare you say that to me? I sleep with the pigs rather than with him!” All of her anger flooded out. She was shaking.

Ivar went so pale, even standing next to the fire, that his freckles stood out even more. “Forgive me,” he said finally in a whisper. “It’s just that I—” He broke off. She was still too angry to apologize for her outburst. “But what will you do? You may sleep with the pigs now. You can’t think he’ll let matters stay that way?”

“He’s a brother of the church. You know what they swear when they are invested into orders.” It sounded lame even to her.

“Perhaps you don’t understand how this works. Hugh was invested into the church because he’s a bastard. My own father had a girl child by—well, never mind by who—and she’s now a deacon down south at Wisslaren. He has yet to decide which one of us younger boys he’s going to give to the church. Before I was born, my sister Rosvita took orders first as a nun and then as a cleric in King Henry’s schola. That was never by her choice, though she accepted it gratefully enough. So what makes you think Hugh ever chose to be in the church or ever meant to give up his … pleasures?”

She thought of ten answers, but there was no point in speaking words that were meaningless or, worse, lies. She could not lie to Ivar in order to try to lie to herself. She said nothing.

“Listen.” Carefully, like a man approaching a wounded dog, he crossed to her and, gently, took her hand. “It’s a fool’s notion about the Dragons. I know that. But Father must send a levy next spring to King Henry, and if he does, he’s sure to send me. Perhaps … well, if the Dragons really have ridden north, there must be some Eagles with them, to carry messages back to the King. I’ve heard it said that the Eagles will take any strong-minded person into their ranks as long as they’re free-born. And you are freeborn. Gero is riding up to Freelas tomorrow. I’ll see what he can find out.”

“But you won’t tell him what you plan?” It was an idea made more horrible because she began to hope again.

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“He guesses enough. We can trust Gero. He hates Hugh worse than you do. Here Gero is my father’s heir and Hugh insulted him to his face last spring, treated him no better than a common potboy.” Clearly the insult still stung. Ivar flushed and his tone grew quite heated. “My father is a count of the land, and just because we’re so far north that the king’s progress never comes here nor has any child of our line served the king except my sister as a cleric and a great uncle who died as a Dragon at the Battle of Lenzen. But no matter what Frater Hugh said, there was nothing Gero could do unless he wanted to raise his hand against a brother of the church.”

She scarcely heard him. “I always wanted to be a King’s messenger.”

“But the Eagles ride alone. It’s very dangerous, even with the King’s seal to protect you.”

“It wouldn’t be so different from the life Da and I lived. And I’d be free, Ivar. Not bound. The Eagles are beholden to no one but the king.” She choked down a heartsick laugh. “Freeborn or not, they couldn’t take me anyway. I’m not free. Hugh bought me for two nomias. I’d never seen nomias in my life before the auction.”

Ivar released her hand and began to pace. “Your father had four books. They must have been worth a nomia at least.”

“Hugh took them and never paid for them. He said they belonged to the church now. He stole them.”

For once Ivar did not share her indignation. “Deacon Fortensia says all books pass to the church. Anyway, they’re no good to you if you can’t read. Liath.” He stopped in front of her. “Promise me that if I can find a way to take you out of here, you’ll come with me.”




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