He could not go on and had to just stand there, struggling to control himself, while Heribert watched compassionately. Distantly he heard the baa of the goat, and then a goatish reply in a higher pitch. The voices in the trees seemed to mock him, even if it was only the wind.

“The more fool I. Did she ever treat me any differently than she did the pony who carried her pack?”

Heribert seemed about to object but thought better of it.

“Once I was of no more use to her, she abandoned me again, just as she did when I was an infant.”

“Nay, Sanglant, don’t judge her harshly yet. Perhaps the king detained her.”

“The king could not detain a sorcerer with her powers. She could have followed us if she had chosen to. But she did not. I no longer serve any useful purpose in her plotting, now that I am, as you say, as good as a rebel against my father’s authority. That was all she cared for.”

“Nay, friend, I am sure there is a greater part for you to play if these prophecies come true.”

“But will I play the part they wish me to play? I’m not captain of the King’s Dragons anymore, a piece to be moved about in their chess game.” He frowned abruptly, shading his eyes as he stared westward at the camp. A commotion had arisen. He heard voices but couldn’t quite make out the words. Was that two goats complaining, when they only had one? Yet Captain Fulk could deal with it. He had other battles to fight.

Resolve came swiftly, and with all its sweet savor. Knowing that he knew what had to be done and that he was the one to do it cleared his mind of doubts and despairs. A man who doubted fared poorly in battle, so he had long ago trained himself not to doubt.

“The Seven Sleepers must be stopped, Heribert. If my father won’t believe me, and won’t act, then I must act.” He knew he was right, just as he knew in battle when it was time to turn a flank or call the charge. He’d only been wrong once, defeated by Bloodheart’s illusions. He didn’t intend to be wrong again. “Consider what my mother did, and why I am here at all. She never cared for Henry. She didn’t become his lover out of lust or passion or love. She did so in order to give birth to me, so that I would be a bridge between his people and hers. We walked for twelve days together, fleeing Verna, and during that time when she spoke at all she told me about the Aoi council and how it is broken into factions. Some of them hate humankind still and hope to conquer all human realms, while some seek compromise and alliance.”

“Alas, not even the fabled Aoi are immune from intrigue.”

“Even animals mark their territories and who comes first and who last in their herds. If that faction of the Aoi who still hate humankind comes to power after the return, then some prince born of human blood must prepare for war. If my father will not do so, then I must.”

Heribert coughed lightly. “My lord prince. My good friend. If you did not trouble Anne, and let her work her sorcery, then the Aoi would not return at all. And Wendar would remain at peace.”

Sanglant looked away. “And all my kin would be dead. Nay. I cannot. I can’t turn my back on my mother’s people. I will not let them all die.”

“Will you instead be the unwitting tool by which they conquer humankind? You said yourself that they showed little enough interest in you. In truth, Sanglant, you might be better served to ask your father’s forgiveness and help him restore the Aostan throne to Queen Adelheid. With Aosta in his grasp, he has power enough to be crowned Holy Dariyan Emperor, like Taillefer before him. Such power would give him the strength to meet any Aoi threat, should the events you speak of come to pass.”

The image of Bloodheart’s chains rose in his mind’s eye. Those chains still weighed on him. They always would. “I won’t ask for my father’s forgiveness because I did nothing wrong except marry against his wishes.”

“Had you married Queen Adelheid, as your father wished you to, you would have been king in Aosta and heir to your father. Then you would have had the strength to do what needed to be done.”

Sanglant turned, stung into fury, only to see Heribert jump to his feet, half laughing, in the way of folk who seek to appease an armed man whom they have inadvertently insulted. He knew the look well enough. The cleric held his staff out before him, as if to protect himself, although he hadn’t any skill with arms.

“I only speak the truth, Sanglant. I would offer you nothing less.”

Sanglant swore vigorously. But following the strong words came a harsh laugh. “So you do, and so you do well to remind me. But I won’t seek my father’s forgiveness.”