Rhodry was standing on the ramparts of a rough stone dun and looking out over countryside where patches of snow still lay under dark pine trees. He was wrapped in a cloak, and his breath came in a frosty puff. Now that Ebañy knew they shared a father, he could see what had eluded him the summer before, when hed met Rhodry by chance and wondered why this young warrior looked so familiar. Although Rhodry had raven-dark hair and cornflower-blue eyes, they looked enough alike to be what they were, brothers. As he studied the resemblance, Ebañy found himself grumbling again.
So Im not supposed to tell you the truth, brother, am I? What am I supposed to do, smash every mirror within your reach? Rhodry has to think himself human and a Maelwaedd, says my master in dweomer. Oh splendid! Then Id best hand over this ring and disappear before you look too closely at my face!
In the vision, Rhodrys image suddenly turned and seemed to be staring right at him, as if he were listening to his faraway kin. Ebañy smiled at him, then widened the vision, switching his point of view this way and that around the countryside to the limits of the scrying, about two miles away from its focus. He saw sharp rocky hills, covered with pine, and here and there among them small farms. Most likely Rhodry was in the province of Cerrgonney, then, a good five hundred miles away at the very least.
Its going to be a long summers riding, then, Ebañy, lad, he told himself. On the other hand, it would be a wretched shame to leave before the feastings over.
Although it was cold up on the ramparts of Lord Gwogyrs dun, Rhodry lingered there a few moments longer and looked out over the Cerrgonney hills without truly seeing them. For a moment he wondered if he were going daft, because it seemed hed heard someone talking to him though he was the only man on the walls. The words had been indistinct, but someone had called him brother and talked of giving him a gift. In irritation he tossed his head and decided that it had only been some trick of the wind. Since the only brother he knew of hated him with his very soul, it was unlikely that hed be giving him any gift but a dagger in the back, and those words if words they were had sounded warm and friendly.
Leaning back against the damp stone, he pulled his silver dagger from his belt and looked at it while he idly thought of his elder brother, Rhys, Gwerbret Aberwyn, who had sent him into exile some years before. Although the dagger was a beautiful thing, as sharp as steel but gleaming like silver, it was a mark of shame, branding him a dishonoured mercenary soldier who fought only for coin, never for honour. It was time for him to wander down the long road, as the silver daggers called their lives. Although hed fought well for Lord Gwogyr last autumn, even taking a wound in his service, a silver daggers welcome was a short one, and already the chamberlain was grumbling about having to feed him and his woman. Sheathing the dagger, he glanced up at the sky, cold but clear. It was likely that the snows were long past.
Tomorrow well ride, he said aloud. And if you were thinking of me, brother, may the thought turn your guts to fire.
Far to the south, in a little town in Eldidd, an event was happening that would indeed bring Gwerbret Rhys the sort of pain his younger brother had wished upon him, even though Rhodry had no way of knowing it. Dun Bruddlyn, a fort only recently disposed upon its lord, Garedd, was filled with a tense sort of bustle. While the lord himself paced restlessly in his great hall with a goblet of mead in his hand, his second wife, Donilla, was giving birth up in the womens hall. Since this was her first child, the labour was a long one, and Tieryn Lovyan as well as the other women in attendance was beginning to worry. Her face dead-white, her long chestnut hair soaked with sweat, Donilla crouched on the birthing stool and clung to the thick rope tied from one of the beams far above. Her serving-woman, Galla, knelt beside her and wiped her face every now and then with a cloth soaked in cold water.
Let her suck a bit of moisture from a clean rag, said the herbman who was attending the birth. But just a bit.
Another serving-lass hurried to get clean cloth and fresh water without a moments hesitation. Not only was old Nevyn known as the best herbman in the kingdom, but it was widely rumoured that he had the dweomer. Lovyan smiled at the lasss awe, but only slightly, because she knew full well that the rumours were true. When she glanced at Nevyn in a questioning sort of way, he gave her a reassuring smile, then spoke to Donilla. His ice-blue eyes seemed to bore into her soft brown ones and capture her very soul. With a sigh she relaxed as if some of the pain had left her.
Itll be soon now, my lady. His voice was very soft and kind. Breathe deeply now, but dont bear down on the babe. Itll be coming soon.
Donilla nodded, gasped at a contraction, and let out her breath in a long, smooth sigh. Although Lovyan had given birth to four sons herself, she couldnt remember her own labours being this difficult. Perhaps Ive just forgotten, she thought. One does forget the pain, and so oddly soon. Restlessly she paced to an open window and looked out on the bright spring day while she considered the irony. Poor Donilla had been so eager to have a child; now she was probably wishing that she truly had been barren. When the younger woman moaned again, Lovyan winced in sympathy.
Its crowning, my lady! Nevyn crowed in victory. Soon, very soon. Now bear down.
Lovyan stayed at the window until she heard the high-pitched wail, a good, healthy cry at that. She turned round to see Nevyn and the serving-woman laying Donilla down on the pallet prepared by the stool and laying the babe, still attached by the cord, at her breast. With trembling fingers the lady stroked the soft fuzz on her childs head and smiled in wide-eyed triumph.
A son, Your Grace! she croaked. Ive given my lord another son.
And a fine healthy one, at that, Lovyan said. Shall I go and tell His Lordship the good news?
Donilla nodded, her eyes on the tiny face already nuzzling at her breast.
As she went downstairs, Lovyans heart was heavy, and she felt badly about it. Of course Donilla deserved this moment of triumph, of vindication. After ten years of a childless marriage, her first husband had cast her off as barren, a bitter humiliation for any woman to bear, worse than the heart-breaking thought that she would never have children. Now she had her son, and everyone in Eldidd knew that she wasnt the barren one. Unfortunately, her small triumph had important political consequences, of which her second husband seemed to be painfully aware. Garedd was a man of middle years, with two sons and a daughter by his first marriage; a solid sort with grey in his blond hair and moustaches, he was genuinely pleased at Lovyans news, breaking out into a laugh and yelling that he had a son to his warband across the hall. Then, almost instantly, he wiped the look of triumph off his face.
My apologies for gloating, Your Grace, he said. But it takes a man that way.
You dont need to apologize to me, cousin, Lovyan said wearily. Nor to Rhys, either, though Id advise you to stay away from Aberwyn for a while.
I was planning to, truly.
There lay the crux of the matter; Gwerbret Rhys had been Donillas first husband, the one who had shamed her as barren because he had no heirs for his vast rhan, one of the most important in the entire kingdom. If he died childless, as now seemed most likely, Eldidd could well break out into open war as the various candidates tried to claim the gwerbretrhyn for their own clan. Although Lovyan was fond of her cousin and his wife, she was here to witness the birth because of its political implications. Since she was the tieryn of Dun Gwerbyn, with many vassals and large holdings, her time was too valuable for her to ride around the countryside playing at midwife for her vassals wives. But it had been necessary that she see with her own eyes that, truly, Donilla had given birth to a child.
I was planning to, truly.
There lay the crux of the matter; Gwerbret Rhys had been Donillas first husband, the one who had shamed her as barren because he had no heirs for his vast rhan, one of the most important in the entire kingdom. If he died childless, as now seemed most likely, Eldidd could well break out into open war as the various candidates tried to claim the gwerbretrhyn for their own clan. Although Lovyan was fond of her cousin and his wife, she was here to witness the birth because of its political implications. Since she was the tieryn of Dun Gwerbyn, with many vassals and large holdings, her time was too valuable for her to ride around the countryside playing at midwife for her vassals wives. But it had been necessary that she see with her own eyes that, truly, Donilla had given birth to a child.
Do you think Rhys will adopt a son? Garedd said.
I have no idea what Rhys will or wont do any more, for all that hes my first-born son. An adopted heir wont have much of a chance in the Council of Electors, anyway. The sensible thing for him to do would be to recall Rhodry from exile.
Garedd raised one questioning eyebrow.
I havent given up hope yet, Lovyan snapped. But truly, my lord, I understand your scepticism.
In another half-hour, Nevyn came down to the great hall. A tall man with a thick shock of white hair and a face as wrinkled as old burlap, still he moved with strength, striding up to the table of honour and making Garedd a smooth bow. When he announced that the lord could visit the lady, Garedd was off like a flushed hare, because he loved his young wife in an almost unseemly way. Nevyn accepted a tankard of ale from a page and sat down beside Lovyan.
Well, he remarked. She had a remarkably good first birth for a woman her age. Knowing you, youre pleased in spite of yourself.
Just that. I was always fond of her. If only some other beastly man had cast her off.
Nevyn gave her a thin smile and had a well-deserved swallow of ale.
Ill be leaving tomorrow, he said. Going to Dun Deverry. Now that I have a nephew at court, I can hear some of the gossip from the Kings councils.
Nephew, indeed! But Im glad hes there, all the same. Im beginning to think that our only hope is to get our liege to override Rhyss sentence of exile. Its happened before.
Gwerbrets have also risen in rebellion against such meddling. Do you think Rhys will?
I dont know. Ah, by the Goddess herself, it aches my heart to think of war coming to Eldidd, and all over my two squabbling sons!
The war hasnt started yet, and Im going to do my cursed best to make sure it doesnt.
Yet he looked so weary that she was suddenly frightened. Even though he was the most powerful dweomerman in the kingdom, he was still only one man. He was also caught up in political intrigue that or so it seemed to her his magical calling would ill-equip him to handle.
Ah well, she said at last. At least the child himself was born with good omens. They always say its a lucky lad whos born the first day of spring.
So they do, and lets hope this spring is as well-omened for us all.
The absent way he spoke made her realize that he very much doubted it would be. She was hesitating, half wanting to ask more, half afraid to hear the truth if he should tell her, when a page came over to her. The young lad looked utterly confused.
Your Grace? Theres a noble lord at the gates. Should I ask you what to do, or go and find Lord Garedd?
You may ask me, because Im of higher rank. If I were of the same rank as Garedd, youd have to go and find him. Now. Which noble lord is it?
Talidd of Belglaedd, Your Grace. He said the strangest thing. He asked if he was welcome in the dun that should have been his.
Beside her Nevyn swore under his breath.
Oh ye gods, Lovyan said feebly. He would turn up right now! Well, lad, run and tell him that indeed hes welcome in the dun called Bruddlyn. Tell him that exactly and not a word more.
As soon as the page was on his way, Nevyn turned to her with the lift of a quizzical eyebrow.
It all goes back to Loddlaens war, she said, her voice heavy with weariness. Talidds sister was Corbyns wife. She went back to her brother before the war even started, because having Loddlaen in the dun was driving her daft, and I cant say I blame her for that, frankly. But then, after Corbyn was killed, I attainted this demesne because shed left her husband. All my loyal men would have grumbled if I hadnt. I offered her a settlement of coin and horses, but Talidd refused to let her take a copper or a filly of it.
She broke off because the subject of this explanation was striding into the great hall, stripping off his cloak and riding gloves as he did so. Talidd of Belglaedd was a heavy-set man of forty, with grey hair still streaked with blond, and shrewd green eyes. Tossing his cloak to the page, he came over and made the tieryn a deep bow. His bland smile revealed nothing at all.
Im surprised to see you here, my lord, Lovyan said.
I came to congratulate Garedd on the birth of a child. The page tells me its a lad.
It is, and a healthy one.
Then Dun Bruddlyn has yet another heir, does it? Talidd paused to take a tankard of ale from a serving lass. Well, the gods may witness the justice of that.
Lovyan debated challenging him then and there. If shed been a man, and thus able to fight her own duels, she might well have done it, but as it was, she would have to call for a champion. Answering that call would be the captain of her warband, Cullyn of Cerrmor, who was without doubt the best swordsman in all Deverry. It seemed rather unfair to sentence Talidd to certain death for a few nasty remarks.
I choose to ignore that, my lord, Lovyan said, and she put ice in her voice. If you feel injured, you may put your case before the gwerbret, and I shall come to court at his order.
The gwerbret, Your Grace, happens to be your son.
So he is, and I scrupulously raised him to be a fair-minded man.
At that Talidd looked down abruptly at the table, and he had the decency to blush. In the duel of words, Lovyan had scored the first touch.
Im surprised youve come here just to pour vinegar in an old wound, she said.
The matters of great moment for the gwerbretrhyn, isnt it? You forget, Your Grace, that I hold a seat on the Council of Electors.
Lovyan had forgotten, and she cursed herself mentally for the lapse. Talidd had a sip of ale and smiled his bland, secretive smile at her and Nevyn impartially.
I was hoping Id be in time to witness the birth, he said at last. I take it there were witnesses not of this household.
Myself and the herbman here.
And none, my lady, would dare dispute your word, not in open court nor in private meeting. The smile grew less bland. We may take it as a given that, indeed, the Lady Donillas not barren, no matter what seemed to be the case before.
Lovyan gave him a brilliant smile and hated his very heart.
Just so, my lord. I take it as another given that youll be summoning the council with this news as soon as ever you can.
Talidd left well before the evening meal with the remark that he had a better welcome nearby. He sounded so martyred, and so genuinely injured, that Nevyn felt like kicking him all the way out of the great hall. For Lovyans sake, he refrained. Instead he went up to look in on Donilla, who was by then resting in her own bed with the swaddled babe beside her. In some minutes Lovyan joined him there, her expression as placid as if shed never heard Talidds name, and made a few pleasantries to the younger woman. Nevyn left when she did, following her to the chamber in the suite that had been allotted to her on this visit. Although plain, it was obviously furnished with Dun Bruddlyns best; her cousin and his lady both had reason to be grateful for her gift of this demesne, as she remarked.