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a hand for silence, and they quieted, but it was never still. The hiss of falling ash, the crack of breaking branches in the forest, not as many now but sharp and startling each time the sound came, and the moans of the wounded ran beneath his words.
    “Cousin,” he said. “What accounting have you reached?”
    Liutgard was an excellent administrator and a wise enough soldier that she let her captains fight her battles for her. When she was younger, her husband had carried her sword as a talisman in place of her, but since his death some years earlier she had shown a disturbing tendency to take to the field herself.
    She beckoned her chief steward forward. That woman tallied their remaining forces and lines of command, about two thousand men and perhaps half that many horses remaining although strays were continually being roped in. They had salvaged provisions for about three weeks, if strictly rationed, but were low on fresh water and feed for the horses. There were not enough wagons to carry all the wounded though crude sledges could be built and the wounded placed upon those and dragged by healthy men.
    “What now, Your Majesty?” Liutgard asked when her steward had finished.
    “Yes, what now?” they asked, all the assembled nobles and captains, those who had survived.
    He was at first silent, but at length he spoke. “If fire and ash and water have wreaked such havoc here, how badly has the rest of the land suffered?”
    Lord Wichman laughed coarsely and shouted, “Surely we have survived the worst!”
    “Hush! You fool!” said Liutgard to her cousin. “Do not tempt God! There may be worse yet to come. What do you mean to do, Your Majesty?”
    The curse of foresight had spared him, as it spared all born of humankind. It was amazing that he had once said to his father: “
I don’t want to be king with princes all biting at my heels and waiting for me to go down so they can rip out my throat. I want a grant of land, Liath as my wife, and peace
.” Such luxury was no longer in his grasp. If he did not lead, then this army would fall to pieces and much worse would indeed come to pass.
    “We must move out, and swiftly. This land is too devastated to support an army.”
    “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 isno 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