Back In the Ruins Save as PDF
Contents ( 66)
  1. PROLOGUE
  2. PART ONE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. PART TWO
  12. 1
  13. 2
  14. 3
  15. 4
  16. 1
  17. 2
  18. 1
  19. 2
  20. 3
  21. 4
  22. 1
  23. 2
  24. 3
  25. 4
  26. 5
  27. PART THREE
  28. 1
  29. 2
  30. 3
  31. 4
  32. 5
  33. 6
  34. 1
  35. 2
  36. 3
  37. 4
  38. 1
  39. 2
  40. 1
  41. 2
  42. 3
  43. PART FOUR
  44. 1
  45. 2
  46. 3
  47. 1
  48. 2
  49. 3
  50. 398
  51. 4
  52. 1
  53. 2
  54. 3
  55. 4
  56. 5
  57. 1
  58. 2
  59. 3
  60. 4
  61. 5
  62. 6
  63. 7
  64. 8
  65. 9
  66. EPILOGUE

They all stared at him.

He nodded to acknowledge their amazement. “I knew the plan would work because Antonia remains ignorant of the extent of my knowledge. I know a shield—this spell I called—that would hide us from the sight of the galla. I had in my possession griffin feathers to send them back to their foul pit.”

“How did you come by such things, my lord?” asked scarred John, always curious. “It was said of the Wendish prince, the one who killed Emperor Henry, it was said he led a pair of griffins around like horses hitched to a wagon. But I never believed it.”

Captain Frigo stood with Princess Blessing draped over his shoulders like a lumpy sack of wheat, but she was breathing. “Hush! It is not our part to question Lord Hugh.”

Hugh’s smile was the most beautiful thing on Earth, no doubt. If only he had been flensed instead of the poor horse.

“Questions betray a thoughtful mind, Captain. Do not scold him.” He nodded toward John, who beamed in the light offered by the lamp’s flame, content in his master’s praise. Above, no stars shone. In the gray darkness, men settled restlessly into camp, still unnerved by their brush with death and sorcery. “I was brought up in the manner of clerics, John, to love God and to read those things written down by the holy church folk who have come before us. I had a book … I have it still, since I copied it out both on paper and in my mind. In it are told many secrets. As for the griffin feathers. Well.”

Anna clamped her mouth shut over the words she wanted to speak. Prince Sanglant had captured griffins. Had Lord Hugh done so as well? Had he, like Bulkezu, stalked and killed one of the beasts?

He twitched his head sideways, as at an amusing thought known only to himself. “Does it not say in the Holy Verses: ‘He who lays in stores in the summer is a capable son?’ I took what I found when the harvest was upon me.”

‘And in the morning, my lord?” asked scarred John.

‘At dawn,” he said, “we ride east.”

At midday the wind that had been dogging them all day died. Dust kicked up by the horses spattered right back down to the earth. No trees stood, although here and there hardy bushes sprouted pale shoots. The rolling countryside looked as dead as if a giant’s flaming hand had swept across it, knocking down all things and scorching the hills.

Blessing rode in silence behind Frigo. She had not spoken since he had knocked her unconscious, only stared stubbornly at the land ahead. Because Anna was watching her anxiously, fearful that she’d sustained some damage in her mind, she saw the girl’s aspect change. Her expression altered. Her body tensed. She saw something that shocked her.

“God save us,” said Frigo as the slope of the land fell away before them to expose a new landscape.