Bristling Wood (32 page)

“Get out! Get out
now!
”

With a dramatic sigh he slipped out, shutting the door behincd him. Jill fell onto the bed, clutched her pillow, and sobbed into it until finally she’d cried herself to sleep. When she woke, sunlight poured into her chamber window as thickly as a flood of honey. For a long time she lay there, wondering at light made solid. The dented pewter candle lantern shone like the finest silver, and even the gray stone of the walls seemed to pulse within this splendid light. With some difficulty she dressed, because the patterns of stains and pulled threads on her clothing were as engrossing as fine needlework. When she went to the window, she thought she’d never seen such a fine summer day, the sky so bright it was like sapphire. Down below in the ward stableboys were tending horses and the sound of hooves on cobbles drifted up like the chime of bells. Her gray gnome appeared on the windowsill.

“Do you know how I’ve shamed myself?”

It gave her a look of utter incomprehension.

“Good. Oh ye gods, I might be able to live with myself over this, and then again, I might not. Pray that Rhodry never finds out.”

Puzzled, the little creature hunkered down and began picking its toes. She realized that its skin, instead of being the uniform gray she’d always thought it, was made up of colors, many different ones in minute specks, that merely blended to gray from a distance. She was so busy examining it that she didn’t hear the door opening until it was too late. She spun around to find Perryn, his hands full of wild roses, smiling at her.

“I picked these out in the meadow for you.”

Jill was tempted to throw the lot right in his face, but their color caught her. She had to take them, to study them, roses more lovely than she’d ever seen, their petals the color of iridescent blood, always shifting and gleaming, their centers a fiery gold.

“We’ve got to talk,” he said, “And we don’t have much time. We’ve got to make a plan.”

“What? Plans for what?”

“Well, we can’t be here when Rhodry rides back.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I never want you in my bed again.”

But he smiled, and this time, after their lovemaking, she felt the bewitchment a hundredfold. Even as her thoughts grew muddled, she knew that somehow he’d linked himself to her, that some strange force was iowing through the link. Then he took her shoulders and kissed her, the flowers crushed between them with a waft of scent

“I love you so much,” he said. “I’ll never let you go. Come with me, my love, come to the hills with me. That’s where we belong. Well ride free together, all summer long.”

Jill had one last coherent thought, that he wasn’t daft: he was downright mad. Then he kissed her again, and it was too difficult to think.

Lord Nedd’s warband met the king’s herald a day and a half’s ride from the dun. Rhodry was riding next to his lordship when they crested a small hill and saw, down below them on the road, the royal emissaries, all mounted on white horses with red trappings set with gilded buckles. At the head came the herald, carrying a polished ebony staff with a gold finial strung with satin ribbons. Behind him rode an elderly man in the long dark tunic and gray cloak of a legal councillor, with a page on a white pony at the man’s side. Bringing up the rear were four of the king’s own warband, wearing purple cloaks and carrying gold-trimmed scabbards. Nedd stared slack-mouthed.

“Ye gods,” he said feebly. “I should have made the men put on clean shirts.”

The two parties met in the road. When Nedd announced himself, the herald, a blond young man with a long upper lip made longer by pride, looked him over for a moment stretched to the limit of courtesy.

“My humble thanks for the honor, Your Lordship,” he said at last. “It gladdens my heart that Tieryn Graemyn takes our mission with serious intent and grave heart.”

“Well, of course he does,” Nedd said. “Why else would he have sent the wretched message in the first place?”

The herald allowed himself a small, icy smile. Rhodry urged his horse forward, made a graceful half-bow in the saddle, and addressed himself to the herald.

“O honored voice of the king, we give you greetings, and pledge our very lives as surety for your safe passage.”

The herald bowed, visibly relieved to find someone who knew the ritual salutations, even, if that someone was a silver dagger.

“My humble thanks,” he said. “And who are you?”

“A man who loves our liege more than his owe life.

“Then we shall be honored to ride beside you on our journey to justice.”

“May the king’s justice live forever in the land.”

Rhodry had to tell Nedd how to dispose his men: his lordship to ride with the herald, his warband to fall in behind the king’s men. Rhodry himself was planning on taking the humblest place at the very rear, but as he rode down the line, the councillor caught his eye and beckoned him to fall, in beside him.

“So Rhodry Maelwaedd,” he said. “You’re still alive. I’ll tell your honored mother that when next we meet at court.”

“I’d be most grateful, good sir but have I had the honor of meeting you? Wretch that I am, I fear me I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Oh, I doubt if you, ever knew it It’s. Cunvelyn, and I know your lady mother fairly well.” He considered Rhodry shrewdly for a moment. “It truly does gladden my heart to see you alive and well. Doubtless you haven’t heard the news from Aberwyn.”

“None, good sir, except what scraps the occasional traveler gives me.”

“Ah. Well, your brother’s second wife appears to be barren, while his cast-off lady was delivered of a fine healthy son.”

Rhodry swore under his breath with a most uncourtly oath, but the councillor merely smiled. It was a moment he’d remember all his life, a moment as unlikely as the sun rising suddenly in a midnight sky, changing night magically into day. When Rhys died, he would be Aberwyn’s heir, and he allowed himself to hope for the thing that he’d long since given up hoping for: recall. Aberwyn was such an important rhan that the king himself might well take a hand in bringing home its heir from the dangers of the long road.

“I would advise you to keep yourself as safe as possible,” Cunvelyn said. “Are you short up for coin?”

“Not in the least.”

“Good. Perhaps then you can avoid hiring out your sword straightaway.”

“I will, good sir.”

Although Rhodry’s heart ached to ask more, he knew that the old man’s court training would allow no more answers. For a few moments they rode in silence; then Cunvelyn turned to him.

“Your little daughter’s well, by the by. Your lady mother keeps her always by her side.”

Rhodry had to think for a moment before he remembered the bastard he’d sired on a common-born lass. How many years ago was it? he wondered. Three, I think.

“That’s most kind of my lady mother,” he said hurriedly. “And what is she named?”

“Rhodda, to keep her father’s memory alive.”

“I see. Mother always did know how to badger Rhys.”

The councillor allowed himself the briefest of smiles.

Rhodry spent the rest of the journey in a fury of impatience to tell Jill the councillor’s news. If he were reading the hints aright, soon they would be back in Eldidd, living in the comfort and splendor he assumed that she wanted. And this time, she would be more than just his mistress. He was no longer a spoiled younger son who needed a strong wife to keep him in rein; he was a man they needed, a man in a position to make demands. He would get her a title, settle land upon her as a dower gift, and marry her, no matter what his mother and the king thought of it.

Late on a splendid sunny day, the herald and his escort rode up to Graemyn’s dun. As they clattered through the gates, Rhodry was looking around for Jill. The ward was full of riders, standing in a reasonable excuse for a formation, while the two tieryns stood at the door of the broch to greet their honored guest. In the confusion, he saw no sign of her, nor did she come to meet him while he stabled his horse and Nedd’s. Although he was rather hurt, he thought little of it, assuming that Lady Camma had kept her at her side for some reason, until Nedd came hurrying into the stable.

“My lord?” Rhodry said. “Is Jill in the great hall?”

“She’s not. Is Perryn in here?”

“He’s not. Isn’t he with the other noble-born?”

Nedd went a little pale about the mouth.

“Oh, by the black balls of the Lord of Hell!” Nedd snarled. “He wouldn’t have—the rotten little weasel—oh, curse him for a pig’s bollock!”

“My lord, what is all this?”

“I don’t know yet. Come with me.”

Rhodry tagged after as Nedd searched the great hall for Camma, finally finding her as she gave orders to the servants about the feast to come. When Nedd caught her arm, she saw Rhodry and gasped, a little puff of breath.

“Oh, by the gods,” she said. “But you’ve got to know, and it best be sooner than later, I suppose. Nedd, if I ever get my hands on your misbegotten wretch of a cousin, I’ll beat him black and blue.”

“I’ll hold him down while you do it What’s he done with Jill?”

Camma laid a maternal hand on Rhodry’s arm, her large dark eyes full of sincere apology.

“Rhodry, your Jill’s gone. All I can think is that she rode off with Perryn, because he disappeared not an hour after she did. My heart truly aches for you.”

Rhodry opened his mouth and shut it again, then clasped his sword hilt so hard that the leather bindings bit into his palm. Nedd had gone dead white.

“Did you know somewhat about this?” Rhodry growled.

“Oh, er, ah, well, not truly. I mean, ye gods! I knew he fancied your lass, but I never thought anything would come of it.”

With a great effort of will, Rhodry reminded himself that it would be dishonorable to kill him in front of a lady. Camma gave his arm a little shake.

“Oh, come now,” she said. “Who in their right mind would ever have thought that Jill would leave a man like you for one like Perryn?”

His pride was sopped just enough to make him let go the hilt

“Now, here,” Nedd said to the lady. “Did my uncle know of this? I can’t believe he’d let Perro do such a dishonorable thing.”

“And why do you think your wretched cousin slipped out like a weasel? Benoic chased him with some of his men, but Perryn went off through the forest. They never found a trace of him.”

Nedd started to answer, then simply stared at Rhodry. They were in a terrible position, and they both knew it. If Rhodry swore bloody vengeance where the lord could hear, he would be honor-bound to stop Rhodry from riding—if he could. The fear in Nedd’s eyes was satisfying to see.

“Now, here!” came Benoic’s bellow. “What’s all this?”

Hands on hips, the tieryn strode over and shoved himself between them.

“I take it Rhodry’s found out the truth?”

“He has,” Camma said.

“Humph! Now listen, Nedd, your worm-riddled cousin’s in the wrong, and you know it as well as I do. On the other hand, silver dagger, she wasn’t legally your wife, so you’ve no right to kill him. Beat him black and blue, decidedly, but not to kill him. Will you make me a solemn oath that you won’t kill or maim him? If you do, you ride out of here with my blessing and a bit of extra coin. If you won’t, then you’re not leaving at all.”

Rhodry glanced around at the hall, filled with armed men.

“Now, now, come to your senses, lad,” Benoic went on. “I know cursed well that the first thing a man thinks of in times like this is spilling blood. But ask yourself this: if you cut your Jill’s throat, wouldn’t you be weeping over her not five minutes later?”

“Well, Your Grace, so I would.”

“Good. I feel the shame my nephew laid upon his clan. Do you want her back or not? If not, then I’ll pay you a bride price, just as if she’d been your wife. If you do, then swear me that vow, and ride with my aid.”

Faced with this scrupulous fairness, Rhodry felt his rage slip away. In its place came a cold realization that nearly made him weep: Jill didn’t love him anymore.

“Well, Your Grace, call me a fool if you want, but I do want her back. I’ve got a thing or two to say to her, and by every god in the Otherlands, I’ll find her if I search all summer long.”

“This is a bit of luck,” Merryc said.

“In a way,” Gwin said. “We won’t have to bother with the lass, sure enough, but Rhodry’s going to be following her, not moving in the direction we want him to.”

“Oh, indeed? Think, young one. From everything I’ve been able to see, this Perryn fellow knows the woods like his mother’s tit. What does a man like Rhodry know of woodcraft? When he was a lord, he had foresters and game wardens to worry about such things, and silver daggers stick to the roads.” He smiled gently. “I’ll talk to Briddyn through the fire about this, but I think we’ve found the perfect bait to lure our bird down to the seacoast. The only clues he’ll find are the ones we throw in his path.”

TWO

All summer long Salamander, or Ebañy Salomonderiel, to give him his full Elvish name, had been riding through Deverry and tracking his brother down, but he’d done it slowly by a long, winding road, because the People never hurried anywhere, and for all his human blood, he’d been raised among the elves. Right at first, just over the Eldidd border, he’d found a pretty lass who’d taken to more than his songs; he idled in Cemmetyn with her for a pair of pleasant weeks. Then, once he was up in Pyrdon, a noble lord paid him well for entertaining the guests at his daughter’s wedding—six merry days of feasting. After that, he wandered through Deverry, always heading north to Cerrgonney, but sometimes lingering in an interesting town for a few days here, a lord’s dun for an eightnight there. When he’d scried Rhodry out and found him besieged, he’d put on a good burst of speed, but only until he saw the siege lifted. Then it had seemed that his brother would be perfectly safe for a good long time, so he’d dallied again with another lass who’d been faithfully waiting for him since the summer before. It had seemed terribly dishonorable, after all, to just ride out quickly after she’d waited for such a long time.

And so it was that he was some hundred miles to the east of Graemyn’s dun on the sunny afternoon when Rhodry escorted the herald and the councillor there. He’d made an early camp by a stream, early simply because he was tired of riding, and tethered his horses out in a tiny meadow before he went down to the running water to scry. He saw Rhodry trembling as Camma told him her news, and with so much emotion behind it, the vision was strong enough so that he actually could hear—though not with his physical ears—something of what was said. It seemed, indeed, that he stood beside his brother as Benoic took the matter in hand, then the vision vanished abruptly, banished by his own flood of reeling. He leapt to his feet and swore aloud.