Conrad and Sabella had reached Kassel before them, but there was no sign of the Eika. The Varren tents circled two thirds of the valley, which was anchored to the north on a wide slope so steep that a recent avalanche had torn through the trees. In the broad valley, men chopped and hauled and hammered and dug siege works. Work was particularly busy along the eastern edge.
Ivar tried to estimate the number of Varren troops but could not. Beside him, Wolfhere spoke in a low voice to Berthold.
“More than ten centuries, my lord, but less than twenty. Yet see what banners rise above the citadel!” Behind Kassel’s walls flew the Wendish banner, with eagle, lion, and dragon, and the Eagle of Fesse, together with a black dragon banner Ivar had never seen before. “Duchess Liutgard has returned. It must be true. Prince Sanglant has declared himself king.”
“It was always Henry’s wish, or at least so my father told me,” said Berthold. “Although it was never to be spoken of. I think that’s why Father wanted Waltharia to marry Sanglant. He had a good idea that she had a chance to become queen, and make his grandchildren royal.”
“He meant her to rule both Wendar and Varre and the marchland?” Wolfhere asked.
“Nay. I think my father meant the margrave’s ring to pass to me.” When Berthold grinned at the old Eagle, Ivar sulked, wishing the youth liked him better. His cheerful nature and bold determination gave him the charisma usually only found in an older man. Yet Berthold ought to have passed as many years on Earth as Ivar had; it was only magic that had stolen so much time from both of them.
“Here, now,” said the sergeant in charge of the men who had captured them. “Be quiet. Begging your pardon, my lord.”
Men turned to stare as their bedraggled company crossed fields and were herded into the outer reaches of the encampment. Two tents rose above the rest. One was striped red and gold and flew the banner of Arconia’s guivre, while the other boasted pure gold cloth blazoned all around its sides with the stallion of Wayland, bold and strong. To the ground before these tents they were brought, and made to wait in the lengthening shadows while the sergeant went inside and came out again.
“My lord duke is out hunting,” he said. In the distance they heard a chorus of cheers, and he looked up and in that instant his face opened to reveal all the loyalty and love he gave to his duke. “Well, here he comes. Get down now.”