“Clever enough,” said Hugh with a wry smile.

“Why will you, our enemy, offer us an alliance?”

“In what way am I your enemy?” he asked amiably. “The war you speak of took place so long ago it has passed out of human memory. I know nothing of the exiles. I am not at war with you. Nor are any of my people.”

She shook her head. “My uncle says that your people invaded the woodlands where his people bided for long years.”

“How can that be? No Ashioi survived on Earth.”

“They survived in the shadows.”

“In the shadows?” He considered, eyes almost closing as if he was thinking hard. With a slight nod, he went on. “If the memory is still fresh in your eyes, let me say that nevertheless I offer you an alliance.”

“What have you to offer us?”

Hugh still held onto Blessing, who had not moved. Strangely the woman who was Sanglant’s mother had glanced at the child only once and by no other sign showed any interest in her. Not the rest, though. Anna was accustomed to observing without being herself observed, because she was not important enough that noble folk took notice of her. Both the handsome man and the old man studied Blessing with alert interest. The woman standing at the side of the old man studied each person in Hugh’s party. Indeed, that woman caught Anna’s gaze and, for a moment, examined her so closely that Anna felt a fluttering sense of dread in her own stomach. She had a sudden horrible feeling that if their shadows grew long enough to touch those of the human party, they would gobble them up and swallow them alive. She clutched her hands together to stop herself from trembling.

“I can offer a weapon to you, if you are still bent on war.”

She laughed. “Your words make no sense, Golden One. First you say there cannot be war between your kind and mine because too many generations have passed. Then you say that you will offer us a sword with which to gain an advantage over our enemies. Which is it?”

“You came to Henry’s court in later days, only a few years ago, and warned him of a great cataclysm. Is it not true that you offered him at that time an alliance, while he stood in a position of strength?”

“Now he is dead,” she observed. “You know a great deal, Pale Sun. I like you.”

Blessing grunted. The sound was so quiet that it went unremarked by everyone except Anna.

“It’s true I made that offer to Henry,” she continued. “Because that was the will of the council. But those who wished for an alliance no longer lead the people.”

“Who leads?”

“I lead. I am Feather Cloak.”

“Is this the same position your son claims among the Wendish? He calls himself king.”

“Does he?” she asked, but it was obvious by her expression that she already knew. “Something like, in your eyes, I suppose. What is your offer? What sword do you bring to us?”