Was that a growl of thunder in the distance? She couldn’t decide whether a storm would make things better, or worse.
The wagon jostled along the trail in an even rhythm, jarred by an occasional bump. None of this bothered Blessing, who finally got bored, curled up among the lumpy sacks, and fell asleep after making Anna promise to “wake her up for the battle.” Anna envied the child her ability to sleep so easily. The load of grain made a sturdy pillow, and Anna was able to fashion a little awning out of tent cloth so that Blessing’s head remained in shadow as the wagon rolled along through changes of light and shade.
A group of at least one hundred Lions marched ahead of them and, in front of them, perhaps one hundred Polenie horsemen with their colorful striped tabards. Lord Wichman and his brother, with the Saony legion, rode too far ahead to see from here.
There was just room on the track for two wagons to move forward side by side. For a while, Anna watched the painted wagon belonging to Bayan’s mother, but the beaded covering over the window never parted to reveal a watching face. Six male slaves marched behind the wagon. Two walked at the front, leading the oxen which pulled it. In this heat, they had all stripped down to loinclothes. They were probably the most comfortable people there: no armor, no weapons. If they were nervous, they didn’t look it. She tried to imagine what feelings they had, but even though once in a while one would glance at her, feeling her gaze on him, not one ever cracked a smile or turned his lips down in a frown. They just walked, obedient to their mistress’ will.
The rest of the train followed in their dust, supply wagons, a few carts holding injured soldiers, carts holding the pavilions and camp furniture of nobles who could not go to war without their comforts and other visible signs of their rank and importance, the closed wagons bearing the princess’ treasure, and several carts belonging to the church folk, which contained their precious vessels and golden altar cloths for the nightly service.
Lions marched alongside all the way down the train, together with other infantrymen. Now and again she caught sight of horsemen farther out in the forest. At the rear, she knew, rode Duke Boleslas and the remainder of his troops. Heribert sat on the open tailgate, lost in thought.
Lord Thiemo, Matto, and the other six of Sanglant’s soldiers designated to escort Princess Blessing rode off to the right, working their way through the trees.
“Why are all the infantry back here, Brother Heribert?” she asked finally.