Degwa winced. Bellyra took her usual chair close to the fire, but she sat spraddled, propped up by cushions. Degwa sat opposite. Elyssa brought a cushioned stool for the princesss feet, then fetched a chair for herself and placed it beside.
My poor highness! Degwa said. You look so uncomfortable.
I am, Bellyra said. And tired, too.
Its all that climbing around in the dun, Elyssa joined in. Do you truly think you should, my lady?
You could quite wear yourself out, Degwa said.
Youre both right enough, Bellyra said. But it gets tedious, sitting around all day. I dont know what Im going to do when I finish my book.
That troubles me, truly, Elyssa said. But mayhap youll think up another one. About the Holy City itself, say.
Its the oldest place in all Deverry, after all, Degwa put in. There must be splendid tales about it.
And all the legends, too, Elyssa went on. About King Bran and how he saw the white sow and all of that. It would make a lovely beginning.
Now theres a good idea! Bellyra suddenly smiled. She could just see how to do the opening pages. My thanks.
Elyssa and Degwa glanced at each other, then away, as if perhaps they had planned this suggestion together. She should be grateful to them, Bellyra supposed. Yet she felt like snarling because they had reminded her of the birthing madness, prowling at the edge of her mind just as Braemyss army prowled at the borders of her husbands lands. It will be different this time, she told herself. She wished she could believe it.
The silence grew heavy around them. With a little shake of her head, Degwa stood up, stepping towards the hearth. In the firelight a silver brooch pinned to the left shoulder of her dress sparkled with a long glint of light.
Theres not a lot of firewood left, your highness. Shall I send one of the servants for more?
Please do, Bellyra said. Or wait! Whats that on your dress, Decci?
A little gift. Degwa smiled, glancing away. From an admirer.
Not Councillor Oggyn? Bellyra clapped her hands together. Its quite pretty.
So it is, Elyssa put in. Is that real glass set in it?
It is. Degwas face had turned a pleasant shade of pink.
Elyssa and Bellyra exchanged a pointed glance that made Degwa giggle.
If only he were noble-born! Degwa said. As it is, I can hardly count him a true suitor.
Oh now here! Bellyra said briskly. After all the fine service hes paid our prince, who would scorn you if you should marry him?
Degwa blushed again. She was no longer a lass, but certainly not an old woman, though shed been widowed for many years now. With her dark curly hair and fine dark eyes, she was attractive, as well, despite her weak mouth and weaker chin.
Ill take pity on you, Decci, Elyssa said smiling, and talk of somewhat else. Speaking of jewellery reminds me, your highness. I met Otho the smith down in the great hall this morning, after youd left. He asked for news of you and sends his humble greetings.
How kind of him. I hope you told him I was well.
I did.
Good. Ive always had an easy time of it with the babies. Until afterwards.
Oh, dont! Elyssa leaned over and laid her hand on Bellyras arm. Dont think about it. Just dont.
Youre right. Ill try not to.
Bellyra wasnt able to say why this mention of Otho gave her the idea, but it occurred to her that afternoon to give Maddyn a token of some sort, a little trinket such as queens often bestowed upon favoured courtiers, to take to the wars and bring him luck. That evening, she had Otho summoned and met him outside the door to the womens hall, while her serving women stood with her for proprietys sake.
I want to give my bard a pin to match that silver ring, Bellyra told the smith. One with a rose design.
Easy enough to do, your highness, Otho said. Ive still got a bit of silver left over from the er well, lets just say I found it, like, after your husband took Dun Deverry.
I dont want to know any details.
Just as well, your highness. Ill get right to work on that.
My thanks, good smith.
All smiles, Otho bowed, then stumped down the corridor to the stairway. Degwa waited till he was well out of earshot.
Your bard, your highness? Degwa raised an eyebrow.
Well, my husbands, truly, but then, my husband was the one who set him guarding me.
Of course. All at once Degwa blushed. Er, ah, Ill just see if the servant girls have swept out your chamber. I asked them rather a long while ago, and theyd best have done it properly.
Degwa turned and rushed back into the womens hall. Bellyra and Elyssa exchanged a weary smile, then followed her inside.
On a wet chilly morning Prince Maryn and his councillors assembled in the main ward. With them stood young Prince Riddmar, Maryns half-brother, who would receive the Cerrmor rhan when Maryn became king. He was a lean child, Riddmar, blond and grey-eyed like his brother, with the same sunny smile. At Nevyns urging, Maryn had taken the boy on as an apprentice in the craft of ruling. Riddmar accompanied the prince everywhere these days, listening and watching as Maryn prepared to claim the high kingship of all Deverry.
This particular morning Maryn was sending off a message to the rebel lord, Braemys. For one last time the prince was offering him a pardon if he would only swear fealty a small price, in the eyes of the prince and his councillors both. Gavlyn, the leader of the princes heralds, knelt at Maryns feet; he would be taking this message himself, rather than entrusting it to one of his men.
His guards are waiting by the gates, my liege, Nevyn said. Ive taken the liberty of providing our herald with an escort. The roads arent safe.
I thought Braemys had taken all the bandits into his army, Maryn said.
He offered. Who knows how many took him up on it?
A good point. They may be as suspicious of him as he is of me.
True spoken. Nevyn held up the long silver tube containing the princes message and waved it vaguely at the sky. Id pray to the gods and ask them to make him take your pardon, but it would be a waste of breath.
A fortnight later Nevyns remark proved true when the herald returned. After the noon meal Nevyn was sitting at the table of honour with the two princes when Gavlyn strode into the great hall, still carrying his beribboned staff. Maryn rose and beckoned him over.
Im too impatient to send a page to summon him, Maryn remarked, grinning. Once Im king Ill have to mind my formalities, I suppose.
Nevyn nodded his agreement but said nothing. He was watching Gavlyn make his way through the crowded tables. Gavlyn walked fast, snapping at any servants in his path; he was scowling, Nevyn realized, more furious than hed ever seen the man. As he passed, the men at each table fell silent so that it seemed he worked some dweomer spell to turn them all mute as he passed. By the time he reached the table of honour, the entire great hall, riders, servants, even the dogs, sat waiting in a deathly stillness to hear his news. When he started to kneel, Maryn waved him up.
Stand, if youd not mind it, the prince said. Your voice will carry better.
Stand, if youd not mind it, the prince said. Your voice will carry better.
Very well, my liege. Gavlyn turned towards the waiting crowd and cleared his throat.
Maryn picked up his tankard of ale and took a casual sip. Gavlyn raised his staff.
Lord Braemys, regent to Lwvan, Gwerbret Cantrae in his minority, sends his greetings and this message, Gavlyn paused, as if steadying himself. He says: my ward, Lwvan of the Boar clan, is the closest living kin of King Olaen, once rightful high king of all Deverry, now dead, murdered by the usurper or mayhap his men. Therefore Lwvan, Gwerbret Cantrae, is the true heir to Dun Deverry. Lord Braemys requests that Maryn, Gwerbret Cerrmor, keep the holding in good order till Lwvan rides to claim it at Beltane.
Maryns hand tightened so hard on the tankard that his knuckles went white. Is there any more? Maryns voice held steady.
None, my liege. I thought it quite enough.
Gavlyn lowered the staff and pounded it once upon the floor. His audience burst out talking and rage flooded the great hall. The riders were cursing and swearing, the servants gabbled together, the message went round and round, repeated in disbelief. With a final bow, Gavlyn left the princes presence. Maryn rose, glanced at Nevyn, then strode off, heading for the staircase. Young Riddmar got up and ran after him. More slowly Nevyn followed, and Oggyn joined him at the foot of the stairs.
The gall, Oggyn snapped. My prince
Maryn pushed past him and started up, taking the stairs two at a time, too fast for Riddmar to keep up. Nevyn let Oggyn and the boy go ahead of him and paused, glancing around the crowd. He finally saw Owaen and Maddyn, standing at the riders hearth. Getting their attention was even harder, but at last Maddyn did look his way.
You and Owaen! Nevyn called out. Come with me!
They found the prince in the council chamber, standing at the head of a long table with Oggyn to one side. Afternoon sun spread over the polished wood and gilded the parchment maps lying upon it. In one smooth motion Maryn drew his table dagger and stabbed it into a map, right through the mark that signified Cantrae.
That arrogant little pissproud bastard, Maryn said, his voice still level. Ill have his head on a pike for this.
No one spoke. With a shrug the prince pulled his dagger free and sheathed it, then turned to them with his usual sunny smile.
No doubt Lord Braemys planned to vex me, Maryn said. An angry man takes foolish risks.
Just so, my liege. Oggyn bowed to him. Most well said.
What gripes my soul the hardest, Maryn went on, was that reference to poor little Olaen. Ye gods, if I ever find the man who murdered that child, Ill hang him!
Nevyn turned his attention to Oggyn, who was struggling to keep his face bland and composed despite it being beaded with sweat. Fortunately for Oggyn, Prince Maryn turned away and started for the door.
I need some time alone, good councillors, Maryn said, to compose myself. We shall hold council later this afternoon.
The door slammed behind him. When Riddmar started after, Nevyn caught the lad by the shoulder and kept him back. Oggyn caught his breath with a sob that drew him a curious look from the young prince.
Ah er well, Oggyn said, I never know what to say when his highness flies into one of his tempers. Ill confess it frightens me.
Me, too, Riddmar said.
He does it so rarely, is why, Nevyn said. Well, silver daggers, Im sorry I took you away from your meal. Prince Riddmar? I suggest you go with your brothers captains.
I will, my lord, Riddmar said. Owaens teaching me swordcraft, anyway. We could have a lesson.
Good idea, Owaen said. Maddo, come on.
The silver daggers left, taking the boy with them. Once the door had shut behind them, Oggyn crumpled into a chair and covered his white face with both hands. If he had let little Olaen live, he said into his palms, the wars would never have ended.
I know that as well as you do, Nevyn said.
With a groan Oggyn lowered his hands and stared at the floor. Nevyn itched to point out that Oggyn should have talked the prince round to a legal execution rather than poisoning the lad, but he held his tongue. He had chosen to keep silence at the time. Breaking it now would be unbearably self-righteous.
Wed best get back to the great hall, Nevyn said. We both have our duties to attend to.
In her sunny chamber, Lilli was sitting at her table and studying the dweomer book when the prince strode in. He slammed the door, then stood leaning against it with his hands behind his back. Hed set his mouth tight, and his eyes had turned as cold as storm clouds. Lilli shut the book and rose to curtsey to him.
What troubles your heart, my prince?
Your cursed cousin, Braemys. Maryn paused, looking her over with cold eyes. Your betrothed.
Hes no longer my betrothed.
He was once. What I wonder is if he ever claimed his rights.
Never! I never bedded him.
Unlike Maryn broke the saying off.
His eyes had turned cold as steel in winter. Involuntarily Lilli took a step back. He neither moved nor spoke, merely studied her face as if he would flay it to see the soul beneath.
Were you happy when they betrothed you? Maryn said at last.
He was better than the other choice my uncles gave me, was all. Uncle Tibryn wanted to marry me off to Lord Nantyn.
At that Maryn relaxed. If I were a lass, he said, Id marry a kitchen lad before Id marry Nantyn.
And so would I have.
No doubt Braemys looked like a prince by comparison. Maryn pried himself off the door and walked over to her. But hes refusing my offer of fealty.
I was rather afraid he would.
Me, too. Of course.
Maryn hesitated, considering her, then put his hands either side of her face. Do you love me, Lilli?
I do.
With all your heart?
Of course.
Maryn bent his head and kissed her. Lilli slipped her arms around his neck and let him take another. When they were together, it seemed to her that shed never loved anyone or anything as much as she loved her prince.
Can you stay for a while? she whispered. Please?
I shouldnt. I meant to ask you about Braemys, is all. Ye gods, I feel half-mad at times, when I think of you.
For a moment she nearly wept, simply because he was leaving, but he bent his head and kissed her.
Ill return in the evening, my lady, he whispered. Hold me in your heart till then.
Before Lilli could speak he turned and ran out of the room. The door slammed so hard behind him that it trembled. Despite the spring sun pouring in the window, she felt cold. Its like Im half-mad too, she thought. All at once she no longer wanted to be alone.
Lilli left her chamber and headed for the kitchen hut out back of the broch complex. Since she was terrified of meeting Bellyra face to face, shed taken to begging her meals from the cook at odd moments of the day, but the only way out of the central broch lay through the great hall. Lilli paused on the spiral stairs, saw no sign of Bellyra, then crept down, keeping to the shadows near the wall. When she reached the last step, Degwa trotted up, so preoccupied that she nearly ran into Lilli. On the serving womans dress gleamed a silver brooch, set with glass.