A Time of Omens - Katharine Kerr [39]
“Caradoc! It is you, by every god and his wife!”
Grinning in a stunned kind of delight, a man was working his way through the tables, a tall man with blond hair heavily laced with gray and hard blue eyes. Although he was filthy and unshaven from the road, he moved with such a natural dignity that Bellyra wasn’t even surprised when Elyc threw his arms around him and hugged him like a brother. For the second time that day she saw the tieryn close to tears.
“You remember me, Your Grace?” Caradoc said.
“Don’t talk like a blathering lackwit! Do I remember you? Would I ever forget you? O dear gods, you’ve given me one happy day at least in the midst of this cursed mess!” Elyc paused to look over the scruffy pack of mercenaries, who had fallen silent to watch all this with understandable interest. “These are your men, are they?”
“What makes you think I’d be the captain?”
“Knowing you so well, that’s what. Come up on the dais with me. We’ll have mead to celebrate this, we will.” Then he turned and found Bellyra hovering nearby. “Well, if her highness would allow?”
“Of course, Lord Regent, provided you tell me who your friend is.”
“A fair bargain, Your Highness. May I present my foster brother, Caradoc of Cerrmor, who was forced into exile by an act of honor and naught more.”
“That’s a fancy way of putting it, Elyc, but you always were a slick one with your words.” The mercenary bowed to her. “Your Highness, I’m honored to be in your presence.”
“My thanks, Captain. You and your men are more than welcome, but I don’t know if we’ve got the coin to pay you what you usually get for lighting for someone.”
“Bellyra! I mean, Your Highness!” Elyc snapped. “If you’d leave such things to me…”
“Ah, why should she?” Caradoc said with a grin. “It’s her kingdom, isn’t it? Your Highness, I’d be honored to fight in your cause for the maintaining of me and my men and naught more.”
Bellyra decided that she liked him immensely.
“Done, then, Captain. No doubt you and your foster brother have much to confer about, and I shall leave matters of war to you.”
Then she turned on her heel and marched off before Elyc could slight her again, only to run straight into the elderly merchant, who’d apparently been standing close by.
“My apologies!” she gasped. “Oh, I can’t do anything properly today!”
“I think, Your Highness, that you’re doing a great many things properly, and besides, you didn’t knock me down or suchlike.”
“My thanks, good sir. Everyone’s always telling me I’m doing things wrong, but they never tell what I should do. Oh, it’s so beastly, knowing everyone only wants you for your womb!”
She blushed, shocked that she could be so coarse in front of someone she’d just met, but Nevyn smiled and patted her on the shoulder.
“It must be, indeed, but your life does have a great deal more to offer. You’ve just got to learn how to find it. Come sit at the table of honor—not way down there! Take your rightful place at the regent’s right hand.” Nevyn pulled out a chair for her, then sat down at her left without waiting to be asked.
When Bellyra shot a nervous glance Elyc’s way, she found him scowling at her, but with Nevyn for support she scowled right hack and motioned him over with a wave of her hand.
“Your foster brother is welcome to sit at our table, at your left hand, even, if you so choose.”
“My thanks, Your Highness.” Somewhat unwillingly, Elyc obeyed her indirect order and came over to sit down with Caradoc following along. “May I order drink for me and my guest?”
Bellyra ignored the sarcasm, nodded her approval, then turned pointedly to speak to Nevyn. The noise in the great hall picked up in a buzz of whispers and speculation at the princess’s rare appearance among important men.
“You said you read about this sorcerer in a book, Your Highness?” Nevyn said. “May I inquire as to which one?”
“It was just a record book of sorts that I