He grabbed Erkanwulf’s shoulder. “As soon as the road’s clear enough that the horse isn’t at risk, we’ll go.”

“If you wish,” agreed Erkanwulf. “You’ve got a strange look on your face. Has an imp gotten into you?”

“It’s time. We’ve got to act while we have the chance.”

“Time for what?”

“Time for Captain Ulric and all the men loyal to him to choose whether to act, or to give way. Princess Theophanu can’t help us. It’s up to us to free Biscop Constance. There’s only one way to do it.”

3

A burning wind struck with such ferocity that every tent in camp was laid flat. A hail of stinging ash passed over them where they huddled under whatever shelter they could find. After all this, after the rumbling and groaning of earth faded, the terrible glare of lightning gave way to a sickly gleam that Hanna at long last identified as dawn. She crawled out from under the wagon into the cloudy light of a new day in which everything had changed. She had taken shelter with Aurea, Teuda, and poor, addled Petra with her perpetually vacant expression.

“Stay there,” she whispered to the others. Their pale faces stared out at her.

“Do you see Sister Rosvita?” Aurea looked ready to scramble out, but Hanna waved her back.

“Stay there! You can’t imagine—just stay there.”

It was impossible to think such a day could ever dawn. It was impossible to imagine a world that resembled the one she surveyed now. The great traveling camp made up of the combined armies of King Geza of Ungria and Lady Eudokia of Arethousa looked like a field of rubbish. A few brave souls staggered to and fro uttering aimless cries into the dawning light. Clouds covered the sky. The air, especially to the south and west, was yellow because of a dragging haze that obscured her view in every direction beyond an arrow’s shot. Only to the east was it vaguely lighter. A layer of ash covered everything, and it seemed most of the animals on which the army relied had fled. She had grit on her lips and in her eyes, and a skin of ash over every part of her body, even beneath her clothing, even under her eyelids.

“Hanna!’

She stumbled forward over a broken tent pole to grasp the arms of Sister Rosvita. “God be praised, Sister! Where are the others?”

“I have them all accounted for except Aurea, Teuda, and poor Sister Petra.”

“They are with me. What of Mother Obligatia?”

“She lives.” Rosvita shut her eyes as she exhaled, a sigh that seemed to shake the ground. Hanna found that she had tears in her eyes, knowing they had survived.

Thus far.

A bubble of canvas stretched and shifted like a living creature as Fortunatus emerged, wiping grime off his face. Beyond, not one tent remained standing. A body lay unmoving on the ground, but Hanna could not be sure the person was dead.