A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [42]
“Good for you. Women need to be kept in their place.”
“Cursed right.”
They finished their ale in silence. At the far table, Edyl’s howl of rage—he always was a rotten loser—announced that Peddyc had won the game. Amid laughter and jests, coin changed hands all around the warband.
“And here’s our falcon back,” Ynryc called out, pocketing a silver piece from the defeated side. “Come on, Cinvan—give Peddyc here a game. You’ve got a good hand with the stones.”
“Maybe I will, if he’ll take me on.”
“Oh, I’m always game,” Peddyc said, grinning. “Let’s see if I can keep my winnings.”
Edyl rose from his place at the board.
“Welcome back, falcon. And has your sister given you a nephew yet? But with proper ears this time?”
The world went red. Cinvan stepped forward, hit Edyl hard in the stomach with his right, and swung up to clip his jaw with his left. Edyl went down like a sack of grain as the hall exploded in shouting. Cinvan felt men grabbing his arms, heard Garedd yelling at him to calm down. Abruptly the red fog cleared. Cinvan knelt to his lord in a cold, shaking sweat.
“And what’s all this? By the hells, you haven’t been back for one wretched hour, Cinvan.”
Cinvan nodded in dumb agreement. He was so sure that he was in for a flogging that he could already feel the whip on his back. Young Dovyn caught his father’s arm and whispered something to him.
“Oh.” Melaudd turned to Peddyc. “Did Edyl make remarks about Cinvan’s sister?”
“He did, my lord.”
“Well, then, he’s gotten what he deserved. Tell him I said so when you bring him round. But here, Cinvan, try to keep peace in my hall, will you? If you’d only ignore these stupid foul jests, they’d stop making them after a while.”
“True-spoken, my lord, and my apologies.”
Later that day, when Melaudd and Waldyn’s wives and their serving women came down from the women’s hall to sit with the noble lords at the table of honor, Dovyn came to drink with his father’s warband. Cinvan wondered if he felt more at home with the men now that his brother had an infant son, another heir between him and Cernmeton.
“Good to see you back, falcon.”
“My thanks, my lord. For a lot of things.”
“Most welcome, truly. I’ve got somewhat to ask you. I’ll be riding down to Aberwyn soon. My father’s given me leave to take some of his men along for an escort. I was thinking of you, Garedd, Peddyc, and Tauryn. Are you game for a wet ride?”
“Gladly, my lord. Your father’s a generous man with his ale, but time hangs heavy in winter.”
“Just that.” Dovyn gave him a grin. “We might have a bit of sport in the spring, though. Here, I’ll tell you the news. I’m riding to Aberwyn to lay claim to some of that empty land up by the Peddroloc. If I can gather the farmers and suchlike, by the gods, why shouldn’t I have land and a dun of my own?”
“Why not?” Cinvan pledged him with his tankard. “Good for you, my lord. I take it your father’s sponsoring you.”
“Just that.” Dovyn’s smile was full of boyish hopes and pride. “He says he’ll back me with the warband if any of the cursed Westfolk try to argue about it. I can fancy myself spreading the Bear clan’s name a little farther west.”
“And your clan’s glory.” Cinvan had a swallow of ale. “May the Bear roam where he will.”
Two days later, when the storm broke, Lord Dovyn and his escort set out for Aberwyn. All along the way, Melaudd’s personal vassals and allies gave them a roof over their heads and ale to drink, which was all that mattered to Cinvan. Dovyn was full of his plans, chattering about them in a most unlordly manner. Since the Old Ones had already fled this part of the country, his new demesne would have to be tilled by free farmers, but there were plenty of younger sons among the Eldidd freemen. Among the commoners, a freeman could divide his property up among his heirs when he died, but who would settle for some part of a farm when he could win a whole one? With a noble lord and his warband to protect them against the Westfolk, they would be glad to move and break new