"Nay, nay," she said irritably, "I meant you to take as many as you like from among the refugees. That will get them off the roads and stop them from making themselves a nuisance. Round them up and drive them in a herd. There are folk in Autun, too—some we've already driven out, but others you may take as you wish. More than we need. Consult with my captains. Plenty of labor here for the mines. It will save us bread later."

"Yes," Conrad mused, "that will work. But it will still take a long time to get benefit from those mines."

"Better we control them than the Salians do. Better we control stores of precious metals against the coming battle."

"Will it come to battle?" he asked her. "If Mother Scholastica means to support our cause, then it need not come to battle."

"Do you fear the bastard?"

He snorted. "I am no fool. He's a strong commander. Call that fear if you want, Cousin. I call it prudence."

“Are you a dog unwilling to fight? I call that submitting."

"These are cheap tricks meant to goad me. I'll fight if I must, but not if the odds are against us."

"Shall we just hand Varre over," she asked sweetly, "and pray for our Wendish cousins to place their feet atop our backs while we wallow in the dirt? We might have everything, Conrad. Everything!"

He laughed curtly. "Then you lead the charge! If you're so eager."

"Do not speak disrespectfully to me!"

He glowered. He was flushed, hot, irritated. The clerics drew in breath and began a new psalm.

 "I praise God, and God have answered me. God's love

 is steadfast. God's faithfulness is eternal."

Rage whined, ears flattening, and swung her head around to stare at the door.

"You're right to be cautious," said Sabella, "nor do I mean to mock you, Conrad. But I believe that my aunt is sincere in her communication with us. If we are bold, and clever, then we will rule Varre and Wendar. Just as I ought to have done all along, since I am eldest child of Arnulf."

Conrad's companions had settled themselves wherever they could find room, blocking many of the lines of sight beneath the vaults, although Alain could still see Sabella, Conrad, and Taillefer's carved visage. Conrad was a good-looking man, powerfully built, tall, broad, muscular. He had a dark face and a trim black beard and mustache around mobile lips.

"What's this?" He looked toward the doors. "Good God!"

His expression darkened. He rose, hands set on hips as he frowned.

The commotion spilled into the gathered worshipers as wind disturbs an autumn meadow, turning leaves and scattering branches. Folk exclaimed. One, unseen, cried out in fear. There came stewards in bold red tabards pushing open a path and behind them a litter borne by four servingmen. Behind these staggered a weeping nurse with a bundle swaddled in white linen nestled in her arms.