“That must have been quite a scene,” Ingrey remarked.
“To say the least. Biast had been unconvinced of anything untoward beyond his sister's usual illness, till then. From that point on, no one could have been more urgent in pursuit. Hallana hurried off to fetch Oswin and Bernan and their wagon, and found Prince Jokol talking to Oswin-he still wants a divine to carry back to his island-and she brought everyone. I was uncertain about taking this unruly mob upon the road, but, well, I can count to five. At least”-Lewko sighed-“Jokol didn't bring his ice bear.”
“Yes,” said Ijada. “But I talked him out of it. He is a very sweet man.”
Ingrey chose to let that pass without remark.
Lewko continued, “That was the point at which I decided the gods must be on our side-how does one say five gods help Them when it is the gods?-just imagine this same jaunt with the ice bear.” He shuddered. “Fafa would have had to ride in the wagon, I suppose, although the beast is big enough to ride.” He blinked for a moment, looking reflective. “I wonder…do you suppose this whole quest for a divine was a ploy on the beautiful Breiga's part to get rid of the bear before it ended up sleeping at the foot of her marriage bed?”
Ijada's eyes lit, and she giggled. “Or worse, on it. Possibly. She sounds a determined lady. For pity's sake, don't suggest that in Jokol's hearing.”
“I wouldn't dream of it.” Lewko rubbed the grin from his mouth and continued, “Biast thrust everything in Easthome onto Hetwar's shoulders, which I think are sturdy enough to hold them. We were on the river road pelting north not four hours after you three had left Easthome. After that it was all commandeering Temple courier horses and royal mail station remounts, and taking turns resting in the wagon, all the way to Badgerbridge.”
“You took the main road straight there?” said Ingrey, considering a mental map. “That would have saved some time. We took a lesser track when we turned west, for secrecy I think.”
“Yes. There appeared never to be any doubt about where we were going. Such a deluge of dreams! I did not see why, until…well. I have now seen why. We traded the wagon for fresh mounts and outraced the prince-marshal's escort out of Badgerbridge; they may yet catch us up, if they have not lost themselves in Ijada's forest, here.” Ijada nodded thoughtfully, as she considered this possibility. “The forester is with them; they will find their way eventually, maybe by another pass.” She glanced out over the valley. “The smoke must draw them, if nothing else.”
He unclutched the blanket from around his neck and sat on it, his arms wound about his knees, and stared into the graying gulf of mist and smoke. The earlier hot bright yellow that had seared the dark was dying down to a sullen red ring, black in the growing middle. The bloody light reflected off the undersides of the charcoal-colored clouds; far off, Ingrey heard a faint rumble of thunder reverberate through the serried hills, and the heavy scent of the coming rain mixed in his nostrils with the stink of smoke. He wondered if the morning after the original massacre had looked and smelled like this, and if Audar himself had also paused upon this spot to reflect on what clashing kings had wrought.
Biast strolled over to stand beside him, his arms crossed, staring out likewise, as if sociably. The prince-marshal was a little too drawn to bring off the illusion, but Ingrey spread his hand in invitation nonetheless, and Biast sank down next to him. Biast's tired sigh was not feigned.
“What will you do now?” Biast inquired of him.
“Sleep, I hope. Before we must ride.”
“I meant more generally.”
I know you did. Ingrey sighed, then a small smile turned his mouth. “After that, I shall pursue a courtier's supreme ambition-”
He made the slightest of pauses, to give Biast time to tense.
“-and marry a rich heiress, and retire to a life of ease on her country estates.” He waved about at the enclosing hills.
“Well, she may find a task or two to which to turn my hand.”
“She may,” said Biast, surprised into a chuckle.
“If she is not hanged.”
Biast grimaced and waved away this concern. “That will not happen. Not after this. If you do not trust in me and Hetwar, well, I do think Oswin and Lewko will have a thing or two to say about it. Among such a fellowship, some sensible path to justice must be found. And”-his voice grew hesitant not in doubt, but in a kind of shyness-“mercy.”
“Good,” Ingrey sighed.
“Thank you for saving Fara's life. More than once, if she tells me true. Making you her guard wolf was one of my luckier decisions, if luck it was.”
Ingrey shrugged. “I did no more than my duty to you, nor less than any man's duty to his conscience.”
“Any man could not have done what I saw you do last night.” Biast stared at his feet, not meeting Ingrey's eyes. “If you chose to be more now-to reach for my father's seat-I do not know who could stand against you. Wolf king.” Not I, his bowed shoulders seemed to add.
Now he comes to it. Ingrey pointed outward. “My kingdom measured two miles by four, its population included not one breathing soul, and my whole reign ran from one dusk to one dawn. The dead did but lend my kingship to me, and in the end I handed it back. As any king must do; your father, for one.” Although not Horseriver: one root of the problem had lain in that, to be sure. “You, too, prince, come your turn.”
Upon consideration, Ingrey's geography lacked a dimension, he decided. Eight square miles by four centuries-or more, for all of the history of the Old Weald had surely concentrated itself upon this patch of ground that fatal night, to be so thoroughly dislocated thereafter. Like the abyss beneath the deceptive surface of a lake that this valley floor resembled, time went down unimaginably far beneath this ground- all the way down. My domain is larger than it looks. He decided not to trouble Biast with these reflections, but said only, “If any kingship lingers on me, this little realm will content it.”
“Tell me true, Lord Ingrey,” said Biast suddenly. He turned to look Ingrey full in the face for almost the first time. “What makes the hallow kingship hallowed?”
Ingrey hesitated so long in answering, Biast began to turn away again in disappointment, when Ingrey blurted, “Faith.” And at the puzzled pinch of Biast's brows, clarified: “Keeping it.”
Biast's lips made an unvoiced O, as though something sharp had pierced him through the heart. He sank back wordlessly. He said nothing for a rather long time. They sat together in more companionable silence as the glimmering fires crept across the ground below, in the last deconsecration of Holytree and Bloodfield's belated pyre.
EPILOGUE
I NGREY LEFT IJADA'S FOREST THAT AFTERNOON CLINGING dizzily to his saddle, his horse towed by one of Biast's late-arriving guardsmen. He spent most of the following week flat on his back in Ijada's stepparents' house in Badgerbridge. But as soon as he could stand up without blacking out, he and Ijada were married-or married again-in the house's parlor, and then he had her fair company by night as well as day in his convalescent chamber. Some things one didn't need to get out of bed to accomplish. Prince Biast and his retinue had hurried back to Easthome and the prince's duties there; news of his election as hallow king arrived the day after the wedding. Prince Jokol and Ottovin lingered just long enough to enliven the wedding party, and to amaze the town of Badgerbridge, then took horse on the southern road to return to their ship.