Hanna wanted to shake her, but King Geza was faster, and less patient than Prince Bayan to be sure.
“Then I divorce you, Sapientia. Go on your way as you please.”
“Divorce me?”
“I divorce you. Must I repeat myself? Ah! Captain! What news?”
“We’re ready, Your Majesty.”
“Then we go.” He gestured. The captain shouted a command in Ungrian, and half the men milling around scattered so swiftly that Hanna felt spun in circles although she didn’t move.
“But what about me?” cried Sapientia plaintively.
“I divorce you. It is done. Feh!” He strode off, talking in a low voice to his captain. He didn’t even look back as the handsome bay was led up for him to ride.
Sapientia stood gasping, her hands opening and closing although she had nothing to grasp onto.
Hanna whistled under her breath and began to retreat out from the chuckling, staring crowd of Arethousans, softly, slowly, taking care not to draw attention to herself, just a quiet hound slinking off to do its business, nothing worth noticing. Off to the right she heard the shouts of men and the jangling of harness as a large troop moved out. Lord protect them! Geza had abandoned his bride and his allies without a moment’s hesitation. She knew she had to get back to Sister Rosvita quickly. She knew what the answer was, now, to their predicament.
Move fast, and get out of the way.
“There!”
She spun, but it was too late. Sergeant Bysantius strode up with a dozen guards at his heels.
“Eagle! Come with us.”
They had already surrounded her. She saw, around them and beyond them, the steady tidal flow of troops and servants toward a distant goal. Bysantius grabbed her elbow and towed her along with him.
“They’re wanting you,” he added.
“What about my companions?”
“They’re not wanting your companions.”
Lady Eudokia was seated on a stool under a torn awning fixed in place by four men holding up poles tied to each corner of blue silk. The fabric echoed the clear heavens they could no longer see. Her young nephew clung to her robes, face hidden in her lap. She sipped from a cup while Lord Alexandros spoke to a trio of captains, all of them pale with ash and looking as dour as any farmer who has just seen his field of rye marred by the black rot. Beyond, wagons rumbled into place in a line of march. A rank of mounted soldiers trotted past, heading for the front of the line, which was obscured by haze. The Arethousan army was moving out.
“Exalted Lady.” Sergeant Bysantius dropped to both knees, bowed, and rose. He shoved Hanna forward. “The Eagle, as you requested.”
She tripped over her feet and barely had time to right herself before the general whistled, listening to the report of one of his captains.
“Geza’s gone already? Hsst! We’ll leave a small rear guard behind to bring any who scattered in the night. Bring the horses!” He saw Hanna, but nodded toward the sergeant. “That was fast.”
“I found her wandering, Your Excellency.”
“She’s too valuable to lose, as we agreed before. You’ll be in charge of her, Bysantius. It will be your head if she escapes.” He turned away and walked to his horse.
It was strange how easily she understood Arethousan now, as if the scent of camphor tossed into the flame to let the lady and the general see what she saw had at the same time opened her mind and let it steal words out of theirs.
“I pray you, Your Excellency,” she cried, starting forward. “Exalted Lady. I pray you, my companions … I know where they are. If you’ll just let me go and make sure they’re with one of the wagons—”
He paused, turning back to frown at her. “You misunderstand us. We do not need your companions anymore. They are of no use to us because our circumstances have changed so greatly.”
“Surely you don’t mean to abandon them!”
He shrugged and walked away.
“Sergeant! Exalted Lady!”