Free King's Blood by Judith Tarr Page A

matter.
    Today she found herself on the edge of a wood. The wood was dark. The trees in it were all dead. There was a smell to it, a slow, cold reek that made her think of an opened grave.
    There was light behind her. The grass was still green, the sun still bright. But what the abbess was doing in the chapel, someone or something had done to a great swath of the Otherworld.
    She backed away from it. This was nothing she could help.
    She nearly fell into a pool that had not been there when she came that way before. It was round and clear and reflected the sky. Somehow she knew that it was very deep; it went all the way to the heart of the world.
    Cecilia was sitting by the pool. She had not been there before, either. She glanced at Edith, but most of her attention was on the water. “Look,” she said.
    Edith followed her stare. The water was pure, clear blue. Then it began to shimmer. Shapes were moving in it.
    At first she thought they were fish swimming below. Then she realized that they were men. There was a man riding with a company of other men—knights in armor on big strong horses. He was not a big man compared to the others, but he carried himself very straight. His hair was gold and his beard was red. He had no magic in him, but there was power—she could feel it even through the water. It made her think of her father, how he was king and knew it, and so did everyone else.
    Then the vision shifted. She saw another man. He looked a little like the first, but where that one was red and gold, he was ruddy brown, and his face was shaven clean. He was younger than the other, though still much older than Edith.
    He had magic. Great roaring tides of it. He might be even stronger than Cecilia.
    â€œThat is my brother,” Cecilia’s voice said beside her, soft and clear. “They both are.”
    â€œThey’re Normans,” Edith said. She turned to stare at Cecilia. “So are you.”
    Cecilia nodded. “Does that disturb you?”
    Edith frowned. “Does the abbess know?”
    Cecilia’s shoulders lifted in a shrug.
    â€œShe’ll hate you if she finds out.”
    â€œShe will,” Cecilia said. Then after a pause: “Do you?”
    Edith thought about it. “My mother would want me to,” she said after a while. “My father might. Or he might not. My godfather is a Norman, you know. His name is Robert.”
    â€œYes,” Cecilia said. “That’s another of my brothers.”
    â€œReally? Is everybody your brother?”
    Cecilia laughed. “Not quite,” she said. “But they do get about.”
    â€œFather says,” said Edith, “that everybody has to live in the world, and Normans aren’t going to go away. Better be friends with them than dead enemies. Mother says she’d rather be dead. They fight over it.”
    â€œI can imagine they would,” Cecilia said. “So? Which of them do you agree with?”
    â€œI don’t know yet,” said Edith.
    Cecilia nodded. That surprised Edith. Everyone else tried to force her to one side or the other. Cecilia only said, “You have to choose for yourself. I can only guide you; I can’t act for you. No one can. Remember that.”
    â€œThat’s not what Mother says,” said Edith.
    â€œMost likely not,” Cecilia said.
    The water rippled and shifted, then melted away. When Edith looked up, Cecilia was gone. Edith was sitting on ordinary grass under an ordinary sky, and a nun loomed over her like a standing stone.
    â€œMother Abbess would speak with you,” the nun said. Edith did not remember her name. She was tall and quiet and rather old, like all the nuns.
    Edith thought she might have to find her own way to the abbess, but Sister turned in the way they all had after they took their vows, as if she had no feet but instead ran on wheels, and glided across the grass toward the grey shadow of the cloister. Edith followed as quickly as