A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [58]
“The king!” Melaudd sputtered. “You’d let this … this creature go to the king!”
Addryc flung up one hand for a slap, caught himself, and froze.
“Don’t distress yourself over it, Melaudd,” Halaberiel said. “I have no desire to deal with weasels any longer, not even the king of weasels. Well and good then, Prince Addryc. You’ve made your decision, and I’ve made mine. We will be leaving your hospitality this very afternoon. I only wish now that you’d given Dovyn the full twenty-five strokes.”
Motioning to his councillor, Halaberiel strode out of the chamber. When he looked back, Aderyn saw Addryc grabbing Melaudd’s arm; then a page closed the heavy door with a bow. As they made their way through the twisting corridors of Aberwyn’s broch, Halaberiel said not a word, and Aderyn was afraid to speak to him. When they got back to his suite, though, they found Namydd waiting anxiously among the elves.
“My thanks for your help, good merchant,” Halaberiel said. “But the weasels have found a nice hole in the fence. I warn you—if you come to the Lake of the Leaping Trout to trade, ride prepared to find yourself in the middle of a war.”
Namydd groaned aloud. Halaberiel paced back and forth as he told the story, pausing often to curse by elven gods, while the others merely listened, hands on sword hilts.
“Hal, please!” Aderyn said at last. “Try to understand Addryc’s position. Deverry lords like to bluster about Great Bel’s will, but they don’t rule by some kind of divine right, you know. Even high kings have been overthrown before, and they doubtless will be again. The prince can’t risk open rebellion in the north.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly. It’s because I understand that I see no use in dealing with him further or with his blasted father, the king, either. He sees the honorable thing but he simply won’t do it. All of the Round-ears are that way. This is the Cannobaen Treaty affair all over again. They speak fine words, but when it comes to giving up one little thing they want, well, then, they’re ever so sorry, but … it’s always but, isn’t it? It would be better if they gobbled openly like the swine they are, instead of mincing around and giving themselves airs. I’ve tried to mince around like they do, and now I’m sick of it. We’ll mark the death-ground and see if the good prince honors his most noble pledge. We’ll also see what Dovyn does. We may have to teach him a lesson. And then, good Namydd, we shall see what happens next.”
The twenty men jumped to their feet and cheered, but Halaberiel cut them short with a wave of his hand.
“We’re discussing death. Don’t act as hungry for it as the wretched Round-ears. Go on—start getting your gear together. We’re leaving this stinking hole this very afternoon.”
• • •
His eyes bright, Garedd leaned close to Cinvan to whisper.
“It’s all getting blasted interesting.”
“Is there going to be war? That’s all that interests me.”
“Just like a falcon—your mind always on meat. But listen, Cinno, when I was down at the stables this afternoon, I heard our Melaudd talking with Lord Ynydd of the Red Lion. Melaudd’s sounding his allies out, like, trying to see how far they’ll back him and Dovyn against these cursed Westfolk.”
“Indeed? And what did Ynydd say?”
“Blasted little. He’s playing it cautious, like, saying Dovyn got himself into it, so he’ll have to get himself out. But I’ll wager he’s just afraid of the prince.”
“Huh.” Cinvan glanced around the luxurious great hall. “Then the sooner we’re out of Aberwyn, the better. Men have got more guts farther north.”
“They’re leaving Aberwyn now,” Nananna said. “There’s been trouble.”
The old woman slumped forward over her scrying stones. With a little cry Dallandra caught her in her arms, but Nananna raised her head and managed a faint smile.
“I’m not dying yet, child, but I’ll admit to being very tired. Will you help me to my bed?”
Dallandra got her settled among the cushions, spread a fur robe over her, then dismissed the dweomer light when Nananna fell straight asleep. After she