“What of Queen Adelheid, Your Majesty?” demanded Burchard.
Sanglant laughed bitterly. “You and I both saw the ruins of Estriana. I think there are no survivors.”
“Should we send scouts into the town?”
“How can we tell when another wave may overtake any of our scouts who go down to search? If we wait for the sea to subside completely, we will suffer losses ourselves from thirst and starvation. Nay, I pray you, Burchard, we have no choice. Queen Adelheid is living, or she is dead. If she is dead, there is no help for her. If she lives, those who have survived with her will lead her to safety. Our situation is too desperate.”
Burchard bowed his head, but he did not protest. Liutgard nodded to show she approved.
“The Brinne Pass,” he continued. “It’s too late in the year to attempt the higher passes, but there’s a chance at least that we can cross into the marchlands and thence west to Wendar.”
“At last!” cried Liutgard. “Home!”
“Your Majesty,” objected Burchard. “What about Darre? What about Henry’s empire?”
“Without Wendar there is no empire. Imagine, if you will, how far the tide of this destruction may have spread. Look at it! We do not know how distantly the deadly winds have struck or what damage they leave in their wake. The people of Wendar have already suffered greatly. If there is no succor for them, they will turn to others who will offer them surety and order. We must secure what is ours first, our birthright. When that is safe, then we shall see if my father has an empire left to defend.”
They knelt to display their obedience, all except Liutgard and Burchard.
“What of Henry’s remains?” Liutgard asked.
“His bones and heart must go to Quedlinhame.”
She sighed. He recalled her as so young and bright and spirited when they had grown up together in the king’s schola. Now she looked as aged as he felt, scarred by Henry’s ill-fated expedition into Aosta and by the events of the last two days. But she was too strong of spirit to dwell on what could not be changed. She beckoned to her steward and they spoke together before the duchess turned back to her cousin. “My steward has been overseeing the boiling, Your Majesty. She’ll find a suitable chest, and a box for the heart.”
“So be it. We’ll camp here to tend our wounded and repair what we can in preparation for the journey to come. Drink sparingly. Fulk, send out scouts to search for water, and others to see if there is aught to be recovered from within the forest: wagons or armor, provisions, strays. Wounded. Anything. Bury the dead that you find, but we can leave them no monument and we can carry none of the dead home with us, none but my father. As soon as the king’s remains are fit to move, we will leave.”
As the rest dispersed to their night’s bivouac, Hathui came up beside him. “What of Liath, Your Majesty? If she reached Dalmiaka, as she hoped, then she is south and east of us. We’re leaving her behind.”