small provincial town south of Loretta yesterday.
«They were executing criminals there that day, weren’t they?» Hermione asked, in a businesslike tone, as he rattled through the verdicts. «It was a whole gang of captured outlaws.»
«And an entire town burned in their place,» Angus added grimly. He was the first to hear the news and was more worried about his holdings in the southern provinces than about the dead people. Conrad snorted contemptuously. The lowly man would have been more frightened by a dragon raid on his lands than by the myth of the girl who summoned fire.
«She couldn’t… no one could,» Roderick muttered, but his statement was weak. He himself wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying.
Manfred, unlike him, was not inclined to reassure himself. He knew what Rhianon was capable of. She would enter the dark chamber and the candles would flicker in the candelabra as if someone unseen had lit them. One caustic word was enough to make the hair on the head of her offender burst into flames. As if there weren’t enough hot young men at court always ready to protect her, Rhianon continually turned someone’s dress, train, or a lock of someone’s hair into a lamp. And that wasn’t the worst thing she could do. It was far worse when she scorched someone’s heart. Manfred was glad that he himself was not in love, but Conrad’s malleability was his punishment. The prince easily succumbed to the charms of the golden-haired witch. Rhianon! He should kill her, but where to find her now, and how to deal with her. The whole city! She has burned the whole city. Manfred ran his fingers through his graying hair. Even yesterday there were more dark strands in his head than today. Today he had grown old. He used to have energy boiling inside him, but now Rianon was the victor. Who would have thought her talent would have developed to such an extent. The crushing gift she possessed only gained strength over time.
«What about the dragons…» Manfred whispered softly. Rumors of dragons had long been circulating in Loretta’s countryside, bad tidings from burned villages, firebrands streaming into the capital to relay their harrowing tales, and circles of witchcraft and fierce evil in the scorched fields. The king did not believe it all, as he was supposed to, or pretended not to. Manfred did not want to feed the dragon rumors. They were troubling enough as it was. But just one girl was more dangerous than an entire dragon pack.
What was he thinking before, fool, he should have destroyed her. He knew, after all, that the gift of fire like vice lurked within her, he had seen the strings of the lute flare under her fingers, the candles themselves lit, the unearthly voices sounding in the heights above her head. A girl with fire inside her, followed on her heels by invisible companions, is a frightening power. We should have sent assassins to her, accused her of witchcraft and executed her as a witch, and let Conrad slit his wrists for her. Even he didn’t matter now. It was worth sacrificing his own son to get rid of a danger like Rhianon.
«What if she came to Loretta and burned the place down?» A naive question came over his ear, but Manfred couldn’t figure out who it was. The voice was unfamiliar to him, but how pleasant it seemed. Manfred would have turned to look at the speaker if he had not known he had an empty space behind him. His exquisite ivory throne stood close to the open window, but there was no one outside. Fortunately no one had ever seen a dragon in Loretta. The people were contented and undaunted, despite the fact that a war was raging somewhere on the borders of Menuel. The capital was unaffected by it. But Rhianon, with her gift of fire, could indeed destroy it. Manfred suddenly realized he was afraid of her. It was funny and bitter at the same time. He was afraid of some girl who had a destructive power slumbering in her frail body. She has the whole element of fire in her. Manfred himself gripped the armrests of the throne so tightly that his fingers ached. He scraped at the sharp serrations of the carving, but he did not care. He would have given all of blood to kill Rhianon.
«She herself was unharmed, was she not?» Conrad shocked his father with his questions, but he didn’t even notice it. He was too worried about himself to be sensitive to the feelings of those around him. «Hildegard says she cannot be burned. Is this true?»
Hildegard herself resembled a gloomy shadow lurking behind the draperies of the great hall. Manfred did not immediately notice her. She was eavesdropping, as usual, but she did not hurry to interfere in the argument. She was diplomatic and artful, and sly as a cat. In his mind he complimented her. He would have had a son of such character and finesse. The princess, dressed in black, with the usual raven on her shoulder and a whole arsenal of witchcraft tricks remained inconspicuous and heard everything. Conrad, on the other hand, noisily continued to demand answers from one or all of them at once. And everyone was already fed up with him. Sometimes even the prince was difficult to maintain respect for.
«Surely she and the bandits she slept with are all in one piece,» said Angus venomously, cutting off the young prince’s temper.
«What do you mean?» Conrad was momentarily taken aback. «Why would she do that?»
«Perhaps she was drawn to befriending the commoners,» Angus smiled. «Or perhaps the eyewitnesses were mistaken and she did not mean to save anyone but was merely nervous about an execution. Either way there are many questions.»
«And more to lose,» Hermione remarked. «Just count how many things burned for miles around. A few more attacks like that and there’d be nothing left of the country.»
«Well, that’s an exaggeration,» Roderick interjected.
«Stop arguing,» Conrad suddenly slammed his fist on the table so hard that the objects on it rattled. «I want to know who she was with. Was there a blond in this executed gang?»
There was silence over the council chamber for a moment. It should have been followed by amused laughter. Manfred himself would have laughed at other times. He cared about national problems, perhaps the country was in danger, and Conrad wondered if there was even one blond in some band of outlaws. There might have been a dozen of them, thieves, robbers, murderers, all those for whom the noose cries. And he’s looking for one. Or did he think Rhianon had disguised herself as a boy? Manfred frowned. It was quite an obvious possibility. Why couldn’t they find her? The princess was not invisible, and she could not have fallen underground, but to change her dresses for men’s clothing, it might have occurred to her. He remembered the girl’s archery skills; she could go far with other weapons as well.
«Was there a blond boy?» Hermione clearly couldn’t figure out what the prince was getting at.
«No,» Conrad said, his cheeks crimson for a moment with the blood rushing in. «Was there someone… who, like a dawn…»
He said it as if in a dream, and shrank back. He did not seem to understand himself, but his words made Manfred shudder. Dawn, the light, the warrior… everything he was looking for, but if this conversation were to go on now, he would no longer be able to control himself.
«I think their leader was blond,» Angus broke the lingering silence. «He looks very much like the son of a certain nobleman, a traitor.»
«Is he still alive?» Conrad tensed up.
It was the only question no one could answer. There was a silence hanging over the hall even longer than on the first occasion. It was Conrad himself who interrupted it.
«I want his head,» he demanded. «Immediately, now…»
He seemed about to lose control of himself and go into a scream. Even Manfred looked at him in amazement. For the first time Conrad had demanded something in such a way that those around him were frightened. Before he had been unfit to rule, nervous and melancholy, he had not
