A Time of Omens - Katharine Kerr [11]
“Come on!” Maddyn grabbed Branoic’s arm. “Somewhat’s happened to Nevyn.”
Stumbling and swearing, they took off upriver, running because it would take too long to calm and saddle horses. Just as Maddyn’s sight was finally clear someone hailed them: Nevyn himself, leading his horse along as calmly as you please.
“Ye gods, my lord! We thought you slain.”
“Naught of the sort I did get a little carried away with that fire, didn’t I? I’ve never tried anything quite like that before, and I think me I need to refine my hand.”
Nevyn refused to say anything more until they reached the camp. Shouting for answers the men surrounded him until Maryn yelled at them to shut up and let the councillor through. It was a good measure of the prince’s authority that they all fell back and did so. Once Nevyn reached the pool of firelight, he mugged a look of mild surprise.
“I told you I’d lay the haunt to rest, lads, and I did. There’s naught more to worry about.” He glanced around with a deliberate vagueness. “If someone would take my horse, I’d be grateful.”
Owaen grabbed the reins and led the trembling beast away to join its fellows.
“Oh, come now, good councillor.” With all the flexible courage of youth Maryn was grinning at him. “You can’t expect to put us off so easily.”
“Well, perhaps not.” The old man thought for a moment, but Maddyn was sure that he had his little speech all prepared and was only pretending to hesitate, “To lay a haunt you’ve got to burn its corpse. So I made a huge fire and shoved the ghastly thing in. But I stupidly forgot about the corpse-gas, and up went the whole lodge. I hope your father won’t be vexed, my liege. I’ve destroyed one of his holdings, old and decrepit though it was.”
Much to Maddyn’s surprise, everyone believed this, to him, less-than-satisfying tale. They wanted to believe it, he supposed, so they could stop thinking about these dark and troubling things. Later, when most of the men, including the prince and the captain, were asleep in their blankets, Maddyn heard a bit more of the truth as he and Aethan sat up with the old man at a dying fire.
“You’re just the man I want,” Nevyn said to Aethan. “You rode for the Boar up in Cantrae, didn’t you? Take a look at this pewter roundel. Is that pig the same heraldic device or some other version of a boar?”
“It’s the gwerbret’s, sure enough.” Aethan angled the bit of metal close to the last blazing log. “The curve of those long tusks gives it away, and I’ve been told that pointed mark on the back Is the first letter of the word apred”
“So it is. That settles it, then. There was at least one Boarsman in that lodge this winter—although, truly, he could have been someone who was ousted from the war-band, I suppose, and brought his old gear with him.”
“I can’t imagine any of the lads I used to ride with treating a dead man that way.”
“Ah. Well, the man this belonged to might well have been the man who was killed. He was murdered for trying to do an honorable thing. I did find out that much.”
“You talked with the haunt?” Maddyn found it hard to speak, and Aethan was staring horrified.
“Not to say talked, but I asked questions, and he could nod yes or no.” The old man gave him a sly grin. “Don’t look so shocked, lad. You were mistaken for a ghost yourself once, if I remember rightly.”
“True enough, but I wasn’t exactly dead.”
“Well, while this poor fellow was a good bit less alive than you, he wasn’t exactly dead either. He is now, and gone to the gods for a reward, or so I hope.” Nevyn considered for a moment, frowning at the roundel. “Tell me somewhat, Aethan. When you rode for Cantrae, did you ever hear any rumors of witchcraft and dark wizardry? Did anyone ever say that so-and-so had strange powers or the second sight or suchlike?”
Aethan started to shrug indifferently, then stiffened and winced, like a man who shifts his weight in the saddle only to pinch an old bruise.
“An odd thing happened once, years back. I rode as a guard over the gwerbret’s widowed sister, you see, and once we went out into the countryside. It was