My apologies, my prince. The guard licked nervous lips. But at the Kings orders, I would.
Galrion stalked back to the broch, determined to have it out with his father over this insult no matter what it cost him. As he strode down the corridors, servants scattered in front of him like frightened birds. Galrion slammed into the council chamber, knocked aside a page who tried to stop him, and found the King standing by the window and talking with a dusty, travel-stained lad kneeling at his feet.
Well and good, Adoryc was saying. Tomorrow you can take back the message of condolences to Lord Gerraent. Our heart sorrows for the Falcon.
Only then did Galrion recognize one of the pages from the Falcon dun. Ah, ye gods, he thought, Dwen is dead! All at once, he felt his subtle plans slipping away from him, just as when a child builds a tower out of bits of wood only to see it tumble down at the first breath of wind.
And here is the prince, Adoryc said. Does your lord have any message of import for him?
He does, Your Highness. My prince, Lord Gerraent has set the period of mourning until the turning of the fall. He humbly begs your understanding on this matter.
He has it, truly. Come to me before you return to the Falcon. Ill give you a message for my lady.
Adoryc dismissed the page in the care of another. Once they were alone, the King dropped his false civility.
So. You seem to know whats going on well enough. Did your foul dweomer show you Dwens death?
It did, but I never thought it would come so soon.
The Kings face first paled, then went scarlet, but Galrion got his thrust in first.
Why have you told the guards to keep me in?
Why do you think? Im not having you ride out of here on the sly to your cursed old hermit. Here, this evil news of Lord Dwen made me remember your betrothed. What were you planning on doing? Marrying her and taking her to a hut in the forest while you dabble about with spells?
Just that, if shell go.
You stinking dog! Adorycs mouth moved, seeking insults. You arrogant little
Oh, here, where do I get my arrogance but from you? Why shouldnt a woman follow where her man wills to go?
No reason in the worldunless shes the noble-born daughter of a great clan. Adoryc stepped closer. You ugly little dolt, havent you thought of the insult to the Falcon? Gerraents uncle died for the sake of our throne, and now you dare to treat their kin this way! Do you want to drive them to rebellion? He gave Galrion a backhanded slap. Get out of my sight. I dont want to see you until youve gotten sense into your head.
Galrion stalked back to his chamber, slammed the door behind him, and flung himself down into his chair to think. There was nothing for it now but to break his betrothalbut the King would never allow that insult to the Falcon, either. I could slip away somehow, Galrion thought, climb the walls at night and be in the forest before they catch meand break Gwennies heart by deserting her without even a message to explain. He had the horrible feeling that Rhegor was going to be displeased by the way he was handling things. With the period of mourning, youve got time, he told himself. At the thought, the dweomer-warning flared up so strongly that he shivered. For some reason that the dweomer couldnt tell him, there was no time at all. Galrion got up and paced over to the window. When he looked down, he saw two armed guards standing at the foot of the broch directly below his window. Galrion rushed to his door and flung it open to find four more guards in the corridor. The captain managed to give him a sickly smile.
My apologies, my prince. The King orders that you remain in your chamber. Were only allowed to let your page through.
Galrion slammed the door and returned to his chair. He wondered how long the King would make him wait before summoning him.
Four days, it turned out, four tedious days with no company but his books and his page, who brought him food and took away the leavings silently, furtively, because servants of an out-of-favor master often met ill ends at court. Every now and then, Galrion would open the door and chat with the guards, who were friendly enough, being as their place was secure no matter what happened to the prince. Once Galrion sent a message to the Queen and begged her to come see him. The answer came back that she didnt dare.
Finally, on the fourth night, the guards announced that they were taking him to the King. When they marched Galrion into the royal chamber, Adoryc dismissed them. There was no sign of Ylaena.
Very well. Have you had enough time to think about swearing me that vow? Leave this dweomer nonsense behind, and everything will be as it was before.
Father, believe meI have no choice but to say you nay. I cant leave the dweomer because it wont leave me. Its not like breaking your sword and retiring to the temple.
Soyouve got plenty of fancy words to justify disobeying the King, do you? For your mothers sake, Ill give you one last chance. Well see what Brangwen can do to talk you round.
Are you going to pen me like a hog till autumn?
Im sending for her to come to court. Curse the mourning! Im sending a speeded courier to Lord Gerraent tomorrow. My apologies will go with him, but I want them both here as fast as they can ride. Im going to tell Lady Brangwen what her dolt of a betrothed is planning on doing, and Ill order her to talk you round.
And if she cant?
Then neither of you will ever leave the palace. Ever.
Galrion nearly wept. Never leavenever ride through his beloved forest againnever see the snow hanging thick on leafless branch nor a river in spatenever? And Brangwen, too, would be shut up as a prisoner for years, all for her husbands fault. Then, only then, when it seemed too late for them both, did he realize that he truly loved her, not just her god-cursed beauty, but her.
That night Galrion had no hope of sleep. He paced back and forth in his chambers, his mind a confused babble of dread, remorse, and futile schemes of escape. It would take a hard-riding courier three days to reach the Falcon, then another five for Brangwen and Gerraent to reach Dun Deverry. Ill have to meet them on the road, he thought, if I can get outout of the best-guarded fortress in the kingdom. His dweomer could never help him. He was the merest apprentice, with only an apprentices feeble tricks at his disposal. A little knowledge, a few wretched herbs, Galrion reproached himself. Youre no better than a woman dabbling in witchcraft! All at once, his plan came to him, and he laughed aloud. But he would need help. As much as he hated to put her at risk, he had no one to turn to but the Queen.
In the morning, Galrion sent his page to Ylaena with the urgent message that she come see him. She sent back the answer that she would try, but it depended on the Kings whim. For three days Galrion waited, counting in his mind every mile that the Kings courier was riding, closer and closer to the Falcon keep. Finally, he sent the page with a pair of torn brigga and the request that his mothers servants mend them. Such an errand would allay the Kings suspicions, if indeed he ever heard of anything so trivial. The ruse worked. On the next morning, the Queen herself brought the mended brigga back, slipping into his room like a servant lass.
Mother, Galrion said. Do you know the Kings plan?
I do, and I weep for little Brangwen as much as you.
Weep for her more, because Im unworthy of her. Here, will you help me for her sake? All I ask is this. If I give you some clothes to mend, will you take them and have your maids leave them out in the womens hall tonight? Tell them to put them on the table by the door.
I will. Ylaena shuddered lightly. I dont dare know more.
After the noon meal, when the guards were bound to be bored with their light duty, Galrion opened his door for a chat. His luck was with himthey were sitting on the floor and playing dice for coppers.
Can I join you? If I sit on this side of the doorway, we wont be breaking the Kings orders.
Obligingly the guards moved their game closer. Normally Galrion never wagered on the dice, simply because his dweomer sight would always tell him which way they would fall. Now, to get sympathy from his guards, he used the sight to place his bets so that he lost.
By every god and his wife, the captain said finally. Your luck is bad today, my prince.
How could it be otherwise? Its been against me for weeks now. If youve ever envied the prince, let this be a lesson for you. Its a hard thing to fall from your own fathers favor.
The captain nodded in melancholy agreement.
I dont mind telling you, my prince, that I think Id go daft, shut up like you are.
Im close to it, and the nights are more wearisome than the days, because I cant sleep. Oh, here, I know the Kings orders allow you to bring me things. Would that hold true of a woman?
I dont see why not. The captain shared a grin with his men. Is there one of your mothers maids you fancy?
Do you know Mae, the golden-haired lass? Shes taken a tumble with me before this.
Well and good, then. Well do our best to smuggle her in tonight, when things are all quietlike.
At the dinner hour, Galrion had his page bring him a flagon of mead and two goblets. He dug down into a chest and found his packets of dried herbs. Rhegor was teaching him simple herbcraft, and hed brought his student work home mostly as a pleasant reminder of his days in the forest. Now he had a real need for that packet of valerian, the most potent soporific in an herbmans stock. He ground up only a spare dose. He had no desire to make Mae ill with too much, and besides, the musty, thick taste of the herb could give his whole game away.
Toward midnight, Galrion heard Mae giggling in the corridor and the captain telling her to hush. He opened the door and saw that she was wearing a cloak with the hood up to hide her face, exactly as hed hoped.
Greetings, my sweet. How kind you are to a dishonored man.
When Mae giggled, Galrion clapped his hand over her mouth in pretend alarm.
Keep her quiet when you take her back, will you? Galrion said to the captain.