A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [140]
“I’m truly grateful that you’d ride to take our hospitality.” Cawaryn spoke carefully in what sounded like a prepared speech. “I value your skill on the field highly, Your Grace.”
“My thanks, Your Highness.”
Yvmur and Cawaryn shared a brief smile at the honorific.
“But I’m hoping there’ll be no need to demonstrate that skill before spring, when the Deverry king arrives,” the pretender went on. “I’d hate to see us wasting our strength here in Eldidd. It would be a pity to have factions before we even have a throne.”
“Just so,” Danry said. “Pertyc Maelwaedd has a good saying about that: even jackals bring down the kill before they squabble over the meat.”
At the mention of Pertyc’s name, Yvmur stiffened ever so slightly. Danry decided that it was time to end the fencing match.
“You know, with my own ears, I’ve heard Pertyc belittle and disclaim his right to the Eldidd throne. He’s quite aware that he descends from the bastard of a common-born woman.”
“Pertyc’s always had a wit as sharp as a razor,” Yvmur put in, before the king-to-be could comment. “He’s a man I honor highly.”
“So do I,” Danry said, “for all he’s an eccentric sort. It’s rare that you meet a man with no desire to rule.”
Cawaryn merely listened, his head tilted to one side like a clever dog.
“You know our Perro better than any man alive,” Yvmur said.
“I do, and I’ve never met a man who fits his clan’s device better. Pertyc can be as stubborn as a badger, all right, once he takes an idea into his head. He wants to stay in Cannobaen, and he’ll hang on with all his claws.”
Yvmur nodded, thinking, but Cawaryn moved restlessly in his chair.
“That’s all very well,” Cawaryn snapped. “But why won’t he pledge to the true king?”
Yvmur turned smoothly and shot a glance of warning.
“Oh well, I mean, er,” Cawaryn stammered. “Doubtless he will once the war’s over. I mean, he doesn’t even have many men to bring to the army, so maybe he just doesn’t want to fight or suchlike.”
Danry smiled, pretending to take no insult.
After the meal that night, Yvmur insisted on taking Danry out to the stables to see a particularly fine horse, and he carried the candle lantern himself instead of bringing a servant. They went down to the stall where a handsome gray stallion was drowsing over his manger. Danry made the obligatory compliments and waited.
“Cawaryn’s not old enough to understand a man’s desire for neutrality,” Yvmur said at last. “But I am.”
“I understand it, too. I wondered if anyone else did.”
“A few. A very few. By the by, it’s time to celebrate Cawaryn’s wedding. Once the two thin lines are joined, they’ll look thicker.”
“Just so. My lady is looking forward to coming to Abernaudd for the festivities.”
“It gladdens my heart to hear you plan to attend.”
“And why wouldn’t I? I intend to show every bit of support for our liege that I can.”
Yvmur lowered the lantern and looked Danry full in the face.
“There are some who assumed you’d support your friend over the king. I begin to think they’re wrong.”
“Dead wrong. My sword and my men are marching behind Cawaryn.”
“Well and good, then, and my thanks.” Yvmur considered briefly. “Is it a wrong thing for me to ask why?”
“Not in the least. I want to save Pertyc’s life and Pertyc’s son. Any man who considers Adraegyn a better claimant than Cawaryn will have me for an enemy—for Pertyc’s sake and for your sake, too.”
Yvmur nodded slowly, considering the lantern in his hand.
“Then a friendly word. You’d better keep your eyes on Leomyr of Dun Gwerbyn. That’s where I’ve been keeping mine.”
Out behind Dun Cannobaen in a wild meadow, where scruffy grass grew tall, bent continually by the sea wind, Halaberiel made an archery range for Pertyc’s warband with targets out of painted wood—to begin with; later they would stuff old