A Time of Omens - Katharine Kerr [162]
“You’re having one of your jests on me.”
“I’m not.” But the way he was smiling made him hard to believe. “It’s the solemn truth.”
To her horror Carra found that she couldn’t stop giggling, that her giggles were rising to an hysterical laugh. The dogs whined, pressing close to her, nudging at her hands while Nedd swung his head Rhodry’s way and growled like a wolf. The silver dagger seemed to notice him for the first time.
“Nedd, his name is?” Rhodry spoke to Carra. “I don’t suppose he has an uncle or suchlike named Penyn.”
“His grandfather, actually.” At last she managed to choke her laughter down enough to answer. “A priest of Kerun.”
Rhodry sat stock-still, and in the dancing firelight it seemed he’d gone pale.
“And what’s so wrong with you?” Yraen poked him on the shoulder.
“Naught.” Rhodry turned, waving at the innkeep. “More ale, will you? A man could die of thirst in your wretched tavern.”
Not only did the man bring more ale but his wife trotted over with roast fowl and greens and more bread, a feast to Carra after her long weeks on the road, and to the silver daggers as well, judging from the way they fell upon the meal. In the lack of conversation Carra found herself studying Rhodry. His table manners were those of a courtly man, one far more gracious than any lord she’d ever seen at her brother’s table. Every now and then she caught him looking her way with an expression that she simply couldn’t puzzle out. Sometimes he seemed afraid of her, at others weary—she decided at length that in her exhaustion she was imagining things, because she could think of no reason that a battle-hardened silver dagger would be afraid of one tired lass, and her pregnant at that. Once she’d eaten, though, her exhaustion lifted enough for her to focus at last on one of his earlier comments.
“You know Dar.” She said it so abruptly that he looked up, startled. “Where is he? Will you tell me?”
“If I knew for certain, I would, but I haven’t seen him in years, and he’s off to the north with his alar’s herds somewhere, I suppose.” Rhodry paused for a sip of ale. “Listen, lass, if you’re with child, then you’re his wife. Do you realize that? Not some deserted woman, but his wife. The Westfolk see things a good bit differently than Deverry men.”
The tears came, spilling down before she could stop them. Whining, the dogs laid their heads in her lap. Without thinking she threw her arms around Thunder and let him lick the tears away while she wept. Dimly she was aware of Yraen talking, and of the sounds of a bench being moved about. When at last she looked up, he was gone and the innkeep with him, but Rhodry still sat across from her, slouching onto one elbow and drinking his ale.
“My apologies,” she sniveled. “I’ve just been so frightened, wondering if he really would ever want to see me again.”
“Oh, he will. He’s a good lad, for all that he’s so young, and I think me you can trust him.” Rhodry grinned suddenly. “Well, I’d say he’s a cursed sight more trustworthy than I was at his age, but that, truly, wouldn’t be saying much. If naught else, Carra, his kin will take you in the moment you find them—ye gods, any alar would! You don’t truly realize it yet, do you? That child you’re carrying is as royal as any prince up in Dun Deverry. You’ve got the token to prove it, too. Don’t you worry, now. We’ll find him.”
“We?”
“We. You’ve just hired yourself a silver dagger to escort you to your new home—well, once we get Otho to Cengarn, but that’s on the way and all.” He looked away, and he seemed as old as the rocks in the mountains, as weary as the rivers themselves. “Whether Yraen’s daft enough to ride with me, I don’t know. For his sake, I hope he isn’t”
“But I can’t pay you.”
“Oh, if I needed paying, Dar’s alar would see to it. Here, you still look half out of your mind with fear.”
“Well, it’s just all been so awful.” She sniffed hard, choking back tears. “Realizing I was pregnant, and then running away, and wondering if maybe Dar