A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [115]
“Who’s that, my lord?” Maer pointed her out.
“Oh, that’s Glae. She and her kin have the farm next to our demesne.”
Maer guided the lad over to Glae and her baskets. Tied up behind her was a mule.
“Good morrow, Glae,” Adraegyn said to her.
“Good morrow, my lord. Come down for a look at your market?”
“I have.” Adraegyn waved at Maer. “This is Maer. He’s my bodyguard now.”
“Oh, is he?” Glae gave Maer a cool appraisal. “And a silver dagger at that.”
“I am.” Maer made her a half-bow. “But I beg and pray that you won’t think less of me for it.”
“Since I think naught of you one way or the other, I can hardly think less of you, can I now?”
Maer opened his mouth and shut it again, suddenly at a loss for words.
“You’ve got a new mule, I see,” Adraegyn said.
“We do, my lord. We bought him from the new herbman in town.”
“There’s someone new in town?” Adraegyn was openly delighted. “Where does he live?”
“In the cottage by Wersyn’s house. And he seems a wise old man indeed, from what Braedda tells me.”
“Come on, Maer. Let’s go meet him. Maybe he’s a dweomerman or suchlike.”
“Oh, now here,” Maer said, grinning. “You do have a taste for the bard’s fancies, don’t you?”
“Well, you never know. Good morrow, Glae. I hope you sell a lot of eggs. Come on, Maer. Let’s go.”
Maer made Glae one last bow, which she acknowledged with a flick of her eyes, then hurried after his half-sized commander.
They found Nevyn out in the garden in front of his cottage, digging up a flower bed as vigorously as a man a third his age. Adraegyn hailed him, leaned on the fence, then gasped in sudden delight.
“Oh, your garden’s full of Wildfolk! They’re all dancing round and round.”
Nevyn grunted in sharp surprise. Maer started to laugh, then choked it back for fear of hurting the lad’s feelings—he was already blushing scarlet at his lapse.
“I mean, uh, I’m sorry, I mean, I know there aren’t really Wildfolk …”
“What?” Nevyn’s voice was perfectly mild. “Of course there are Wildfolk. And you were quite right the first time. My garden’s full of them.”
It was nice of the old man, Maer thought, to help the lad over his awkward moment with a little lie. Adraegyn was beaming up at Nevyn.
“You see them, too? Truly?”
“I do.”
Adraegyn spun around to consider Maer.
“And you must, too. You can tell us, Maer. We all do.”
“What, my lord?”
“Well, come on. That big blue sprite follows you all over, you know. She must like you. Don’t you see her?”
For the second time that afternoon, Maer found himself speechless. He stared openmouthed while an awkward silence grew painful.
“My lord,” Nevyn said gently. “Sometimes the Wildfolk take a liking to someone for reasons of their own. I don’t think Maer does see her, or any of them, for that matter. Do you, Maer?”
“I don’t, truly.”
“Now tell me, Maer. Can you see the wind?”
“What? Of course not! No one can see the wind.”
“Just so. But it’s real enough.”
For the briefest of moments Maer found himself wavering. Did Adraegyn and old Nevyn really see Wildfolk? Did those fabled little creatures actually exist? Oh, don’t be a stupid dolt! he told himself. Of course they don’t!
Later, when they rode back to the dun, Lord Pertyc happened to be walking across the ward just as they trotted in the gates. A servant came running to take Adraegyn’s horse. As soon as he was down, the lad ran, dodging away from his father’s affectionate hand and racing for the shelter of the broch.
“Somewhat wrong?” Pertyc said to Maer.
“Uh, well, my lord, your lad wanted to go meet the new herbman in town, so I took him, but truly, I wonder if the old man’s daft.”
“Daft? Did he scare the lad or suchlike?”
“Not at all, but he scared me. Here, my lord, I don’t mean to open old wounds or suchlike, but does young Adraegyn talk about the Wildfolk a lot?”
“Oh, that!” Pertyc smiled in open relief. “That’s all, was it? Did the herbman tease him about it? Well, no doubt the fellow was startled to hear a lad his age still babbling about Wildfolk.”
“Er, not exactly, my lord. The old man says he can see them, too.