“Sit,” Alain whispered to the hounds, and he edged toward the cage to watch as Sabella, Biscop Antonia, and the others stared at the prisoner. The Eika prince examined them coldly, but he remained utterly still. What an awful fate, to be stared at so, and so helpless in the bargain. The compassion Alain felt for the prince startled him. Shouldn’t he hate all Eika for what they had done to Brother Gilles and the other monks at Dragon’s Tail Monastery?
“Truly Our Lord and Lady work in strange ways,” said Biscop Antonia. “Such a creature I have never seen before, and yet I know that the creation of all beings on this Earth are the work of God in Unity. But this kind is surely made more out of the things that grow within the earth, of stone and dark metals, than of light and wind.”
“You have received no messages, no offer for ransom?” Sabella asked.
“I fear he will be of no use to us except as a hostage,” said Count Lavastine. “Truly, he eats as much as two of my hounds and is less useful.”
“He does not speak?” asked Sabella. “Perhaps if persuaded he could give information about the ships and movements of his people.”
“We have tried. He speaks nothing of our tongue, and no one here speaks anything of his, if indeed these Eika savages speak in words and not just in animal cries.”
“Perhaps he could be taught,” said Sabella, but even she looked skeptical. “There are marks on the chains, here.”
“He tried to gnaw through the metal but could not, even with those sharp teeth. He has since given up trying to escape, or so we suppose.”
“Patience is a virtue,” said Biscop Antonia. “As is submission to the will of Our Lord and Lady. There may yet be hope that his kin can be brought into the Circle of Unity.”
The Eika prince said nothing, made no movement, only watched, surveying his captors as if to memorize their features. Alain wondered how much he did understand. He suspected, now, that the prince understood more than he let on. Two days ago he would have said, like the others, that the prince was unable to speak.
“If he is of no use to you,” added Biscop Antonia, “then I would gladly take charge of him when we leave here.”
Take charge of him? Alain was not sure he trusted anyone but himself to care for the prince. If they discovered the prince could speak, what then? They would torture him; it was the usual way to interrogate prisoners.
And why not? The Eika tortured and mutilated innocent villagers and the monks and nuns who haplessly bore the brunt of their merciless attacks. Why should he be merciful toward a creature who would kill him, given the chance?
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.
“Your Grace is most generous,” said Count Lavastine, “but it is not necessary. I consider him surety for the safety of my lands from further attack.”
“If indeed,” said Sabella, “his kind care enough each for the other that they would forbear to attack you in order to save one of their own. Perhaps, like wild dogs, they would as soon eat their own comrades as their enemies.” Lady Sabella moved away, her attendants crowding after her like so many beads pulled along on a string. The hounds, with remarkable restraint, merely growled after them.
As she left, Frater Agius bowed his dark head and clasped his hands together piously. “Little by little is coming to pass that threat spoken by Our Lady through the mouth of Her prophet: ‘A scourge out of the North shall spread abroad over the inhabitants of the Earth.’” Biscop Antonia glanced sharply at the frater. Then she extended a hand. “Stay for one moment, Count Lavastine, if you will.” “As you wish, Your Grace.” He waited, his servants clustered behind him.
“What if I can, by interrogation, gain information from this prince? May I trade to you the intelligence so gained in exchange for his person? I have a great interest in those of Our Lord and Lady’s creation which are unlike ourselves, which come from elder times and are more memory to us now than familiar sight. Call it a study, if you wish, a catalog done in the style of the Dariyan philosophers, if I may be forgiven a reference to the pagans.” She smiled gently and looked questioningly, or perhaps reprovingly, toward Frater Agius. “Yet the blessed Daisan himself rose out of their number to bring to all who lie in darkness the truth found in the light.”
“If that is your command.” Lavastine looked just barely annoyed, but she was a biscop.
“I think it would be best, Count Lavastine.” Her gaze shifted, caught on Alain, and stayed there until he wanted to sink into the ground to escape her notice. She glanced beyond him toward the hounds, then all at once moved away to follow Lady Sabella. Count Lavastine escorted her.
