Now youre not to trouble your heart, my lady. Lady Ylaena can tell you that I dont carry a sword just for the pretty scabbard, so no ones going to harm you.
Slaecca whispered out a thanks so faint that her daughter leaned forward and squeezed her hand for reassurance.
Come now, Mam, Lord Cadlews promised me that hell guard our Dwaen, too. Ill just wager the gwerbret puts a stop to all of this as soon as he finds out.
Ill pray so, Slaecca said. Oh by the Goddess! I dont want things coming to a war.
At dinner that night Dwaen found out how seriously Rhodry took his post as bodyguard when a page brought them each a tankard of ale. Just as the tieryn went to drink, the silver dagger grabbed his wrist and snatched the tankard.
Allow me. Your Grace. Rhodry took a cautious sip, thought about it for a moment, tried another, waited, then finally handed the ale back. If his grace would oblige, hed best not have so much as a drink of water from the well without me or his captain trying it first.
Ye gods, I think Id rather die than have another man poisoned in my stead.
His grace is honourable, but weve sworn to die protecting you in battle, so why not at table, too?
Dwaen forced out a sickly smile. He felt like a badger in a trap, waiting for the hunter to appear and spear him through the wickerwork. Rhodry, fortunately, proved good company, whether talking about his life on the long road or passing along bits of gossip about the noble-born. Dwaen began to wonder about this silver dagger, a courtly man by every phrase he used or graceful bow he made, but a dishonoured outcast all the same. Jill puzzled him just as much. It was extremely odd to think of a woman charging right into the fight on the road, odder the more because as the women settled themselves at table, Jill was talking with his mother about some typical female matter. While he waited for Rhodry to sample the meat and bread on his plate, he overheard a bit of it: one of the kitchen lasses apparently had a bastard out in fosterage, and Jill and Slaecca were predictably (to his mind at least) distressed for the lass.
How awful to leave your baby behind! Slaecca said. Jill, later you might ask Cook for me just where Vyna was in service before. The poor lass.
My lady, I already did, and its rather interesting. Cook seems to know an awful lot about the countryside round here.
Just then, Rhodry handed the tieryn his plate back.
Well, my mouths not burning yet. Your Grace.
Good. Im wretchedly hungry.
At the end of the meal, Slaecca spoke to one of the serving lasses, who trotted off only to return in a few minutes with another servant, a blonde woman, heavy-breasted yet lithe. If shes the one with the bastard, Dwaen thought, its no wonder.
Now here, the dowager was saying. How old is your baby?
Just a year, my lady.
Well, it would be hard for you to tend both your work and him, but when hes two years old, you may fetch him and bring him to live with you. Let me think on it: mayhap we can find him fosterage closer to us, so you can visit him more often.
The lass broke out sobbing and stammered her thanks through a flood of tears. Dwaen noticed Jill watching with an odd expression, a crafty sort of curiosity, as the lass rose with an awkward curtsey and fled the great hall. Yet she assumed a small sentimental smile when she noticed the tieryn leaning forward to speak.
Now here, Mam, that was kind of you.
Well, the poor child! Slaecca said. She looks naught but sixteen, and it was probably some handsome lout of a rider, pressing her with compliments and little gifts from the day she entered service.
And the compliments stopped, Jill remarked. As soon as her belly began to swell.
Dwaen had no doubt of that. In a few minutes the women rose to go upstairs and leave the men to their drinking. Dwaen and Rhodry settled in over flagons of mead and seriously discussed the possible identity of the traitor in the dun.
It has to be someone good with a bow, Dwaen said.
Well, more like hes just running messages out. If this Lord Beryn hates you so much, hes probably salting men round the countryside.
One at a time the tieryn considered the men in his warband and his noble-born servitors, even though the very wondering ached his heart. That one of his own men, someone whod pledged his life to him in return for his shelter would turn against him was worse than a physical blow. Although he wanted to believe the traitor a servant, there he was at a decided disadvantage, because he barely knew one servant from another.
Well have to question your chamberlain. Your Grace, Rhodry said at last. Can he be trusted?
By the gods, I always thought so! Brocyl served my father for twenty long years.
Then theres no reason for him to turn against you now.
So one wants to believe, silver dagger. Ill talk to him in the morning; I see hes left the hall already tonight, and hes getting on in years. Dwaen drained the last drops in his goblet and got up. I want to talk to my sister. I suppose youd best come with me, much as I hate feeling like Ive got a nursemaid.
I can always wait outside the womens hall, but Id best be along on the stairs, Your Grace.
Yet when Ylaena opened the door she automatically ushered Rhodry in with her brother. Slaecca was sitting on a cushioned chair near the hearth while Jill sat on a footstool at the ladys side. The tight lines round his mothers mouth spoke of tears hastily stifled.
Ylaena my sweet, theres somewhat Ive got to settle before I ride to the gwerbret, just in case I dont come back.
Ylaena drew herself up straight with a flash of worried eyes.
Its time we discussed your betrothal. What would you say to Lord Cadlew?
His sisters smile was as bright and sharp as a flash of sun dancing on water, but it faded as she cast a nervous glance her mothers way.
Do you have somewhat against him, Mother? Dwaen said.
Naught, except his rank. Hes an ordinary lord, for all that his lands are rich enough. Absently she looked away into the fire. These are no times for joy, Dwaen, but if your sister can find a little in her betrothal, I wont say her nay.
My thanks. Ylaena turned to her with her eyes spilling tears. And my thanks to you, brother.
Dwaen realized then that she and his mother had doubtless discussed possible suitors for many a long hour already. He was about to try to make some jest to lighten the mood of things when someone knocked with a timid little rap on the door. Jill was up so fast that it seemed shed been waiting for this and ran to open it. Outside stood the kitchen lass who had the bastard.
Oh, his grace is here! The lass looked genuinely terrified. Ill come back.
Dont run now. Jill grabbed her wrist and hauled her inside. Come along, Vyna. I swear that no one will harm you, even if I have to fight them off myself. Come tell our lady whatever it was you wanted to say.
Trembling, on the edge of tears, Vyna walked over and knelt at Slaeccas side, bringing with her the scent of roasted meat and soapy water.
Come now, child, the dowager said. Is it somewhat about your baby?
Vyna wept with a shaking of her whole body.
My lady, Im so sorry. Im so frightened, but I cant lie any more. I never thought theyd try to hurt the Lady Ylaena, truly I didnt. She began to sob, the words bursting in little spurts. They said theyd kill my baby. Dont let them kill my baby. I didnt want to. Dont let them kill my baby. I swear it, they made me do all those things. I cant do it any more, youre too good and kind, but please by the Goddess herself, dont let them kill my baby.
My lady, Im so sorry. Im so frightened, but I cant lie any more. I never thought theyd try to hurt the Lady Ylaena, truly I didnt. She began to sob, the words bursting in little spurts. They said theyd kill my baby. Dont let them kill my baby. I didnt want to. Dont let them kill my baby. I swear it, they made me do all those things. I cant do it any more, youre too good and kind, but please by the Goddess herself, dont let them kill my baby.
Dwaen felt that hed turned into an oak and put down roots. So this was their terrible traitor! Jill knelt down next to her and put an arm round her shoulders.
You met a man places and gave him information, didnt you? Who was he?
I dont know. One of Lord Beryns riders. He came to the dun just as I got kicked out of it. I met him in town or down by the river. Everyone thought I had another man. You heard them, Jill, you heard them call me a slut.
Of course. What do you think made me wonder about you? Now here, when do you meet him again?
On the morrow, but I wont go. Oh, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, dont let them kill my baby.
No ones going to harm him, because if his grace gives me permission, Im riding tonight to fetch him.
His grace will give you an escort of twenty men to make sure you bring him home safely, Dwaen said. Id go myself except I doubt that your Rhodry will let me.
His grace is ever so correct. Rhodry bowed in his direction. Not at night, Your Grace, when its easy for accidents to happen.
The farm where Vynas son was in fosterage was twelve miles away on the edge of Lord Beryns lands. As the warband alternately trotted and walked their horses down the dark road, Jill was praying that the baby would still be there. It was possible that Beryns men had taken the child hostage just to make sure that its mother stayed under their control. Of course it was also possible that they had no intention of ever harming the baby but had merely counted on a young and ignorant lass believing that they would. Finally, after a long three hours and a last few minutes of confusion at a dark and unmarked crossroads, the warband found the farm. As they rode up, dogs began barking hysterically inside the earthen wall that surrounded the steading. When Lallyc pounded on the gate and shouted, in the tieryns name, a crack of light appeared around a shuttered window. After a short while, an old man came out with a tin lantern in his hand. Lallyc leaned down from his saddle.
Do you have a baby here in fosterage for a lass named Vyna?
We do, sir, we do at that. Whats all this?
Weve come to fetch him to his mother in the tieryns name. Do you recognize the blazons on my shirt? You do? Splendid. Now go get the child, and wrap him in a blanket or suchlike, too.
At the head of the line Jill waited beside the captain. She could hear the old man shouting inside the farmhouse, and a woman yelling in anger. Finally a youngish woman with a dirty, torn cloak thrown over her nightdress ran out to the gate.
Who are you? she snarled. How do I know you wont hurt the child?
Im the tieryns captain, and Im here to keep the child from getting hurt. Now fetch him out or well knock this gate down to come get him.
Here, lass, Jill said and much more gently, The tieryn sent a woman along to carry the baby home. Would he have done that if he were going to have it killed or suchlike?
The woman raised the lantern and stared into Jills face; then she nodded agreement.
Hes a sweet baby. Ill miss him.
Jill supposed that the sweetness of babies was an acquired taste. On the long ride home she found the squirming, wailing bundle a nuisance and little else, even though one of the men led her horse to give her both hands free for the job. She tried singing to him, bouncing him, even kissing him, but the baby, torn out of his warm cradle into a cold night and the arms of a stranger, wept the whole way home until the poor little thing was hoarse and whimpering. By the time she could finally hand him over to his jubilant mother, she was praying to die Goddess that shed never conceive.
Before she went to bed, Jill joined the tieryn and Rhodry at the table of honour for a well-earned flagon of mulled ale.
No trouble on the road, I take it? Dwaen said.
None, Your Grace. It gladdens my heart that youll forgive poor Vyna.
She seems as much a victim as any of us. While you were gone, she described this fellow that shes been meeting. The cook always sent her on errands into town, you see, because she was the oldest of the three kitchen lasses, so she could get a word with him when she needed to.
Weve got to get our hands on him, Rhodry put in. But if his grace sends the warband into town, the bastard will probably flee.
And the whole town will know whats been happening, too, Dwaen said with a pronounced gloom. I hate to think of my subjects gossiping about me night and day.
Im sure they do that already. Your Grace. Jill helped herself to some of Rhodrys ale while she thought. Here, its still cold, this early in the spring. I can wear some of Vynas clothes and muffle myself up in her cloak. Then when he follows me, Rhodry can pounce on him.
Excellent, but Ill send Lallyc in, too. We cant have you getting hurt, lass.
At noon on the morrow Jill went to Vynas tiny room, which she shared with the other two kitchen maids, in the servants quarters over one of the stables. Next to Vynas straw mattress was the bottom of an ale barrel, sawed down and filled with straw for a rough cradle for the baby. While Jill changed into Vynas clothes, the kitchen lass sat the baby on her lap and cooed to him.
Whats his name? Jill said.
Bellgyn, Mams pretty little Bello. Oh you just cant know how glad I am to have him here and safe.
Um, well. My hearts pleased for you, anyway. Can I ask who his father was? Some good-looking young rider?
Her face dead-pale, Vyna busied herself with arranging Bellgyns little shirt.
My apologies. Its no affair of mine, and I dont need to press on an old bruise.
Bruise? I suppose it is.
Didnt it ache your heart to love a man and then have him refuse to claim you?
Vyna shook her head in a hard shudder.
There was never any way he would have married me. I always knew that. All this time, Ive been carrying the secret in my heart, and it hurts like poison. It was Lord Madryc, Beryns son.
So thats why his noble mother was so kind.
She nodded, her eyes brimming tears.
Did you love him?
I hated him and every inch of his twisted guts, but how could I say him nay? He always stank of ale, and hed grab me so hard that I truly thought hed kill me some night in his pleasure. When I heard hed been hanged, I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Ah. He sounds a man much like his father. I cant say I honour this stinking Beryn, if hed be ready to kill his own grandson to drive home a threat.
Thats not true. His lordship would never know who sired my baby. Madryc never would have admitted the thing, not to his father. I swear, the old man has twice the honour of his rotten ugly son, and he might have beaten him black-and-blue. Her ladyship made me promise never to tell the lord. That was the price of the coins she gave me. You should have seen her, Jill, mincing and practically holding her noble nose, and all because her precious little son had blasted well raped me. Ah ye gods, I hated him, always stinking of sweat and ale.