Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [110]
“My lady’s sore troubled,” Medylla said.
“I am. It was stupid of Rhodry to ride off into nowhere like that.”
They nodded their agreement. Dark-haired and delicate Dannyan, blond and homely Medylla were both in their late thirties, noble-born friends rather than servants, who twenty years ago had chosen to take Lovyan’s service rather than marry the unsuitable men their fathers had picked out for them. Shrewd women both, they were her councillors, and Lovyan knew that no matter how much intrigue might rage around a powerful court, she could count on both for absolute honesty.
“I rather find myself missing Tingyr tonight. It’s so rare that I do, but as a husband he had his good points.”
“He understood matters of war, truly,” Dannyan said.
“So, Dann, you don’t think these so-called bandits are real bandits?”
“I don’t. I was wondering if we should send a message to Sligyn.”
“That’s a very good idea. We can send one of the stable lads. The young rider who just came back must be dead tired.”
Lovyan was about to call Caradoc when she heard a clatter in the ward—men and horses riding in, and servants shouting as they ran to meet them. Half thinking it might be Rhodry, Lovyan rose from her chair, but it was Sligyn who strode into the great hall, and right behind him came Nevyn.
“Well, fancy that!” Lovyan said. “My lord, I was just going to send you a message.”
“No doubt, Your Grace.” Sligyn bent his knee in a bob that passed for a kneel. “Our good herbman here’s been telling me that Rhodry went off like a madman to chase bandits. Bandits? Hah!”
“I just happened to see them on the road, Your Grace,” Nevyn said. “I was gathering valerian root out in the wilderness.”
“Could have been cow dung for all I care,” Sligyn snorted. “What counts is that you had the wits to ride straight to me. Your Grace, I’ve had troubling news beyond what our Nevyn tells me.”
Lovyan realized that armed men were filling the hall—twenty, thirty, close to forty, most of Sligyn’s warband.
“Dannyan, send a servant to fetch those men ale,” Lovyan said. “Nevyn, come have mead with us. I think me you’ve earned it.”
Once they were settled, Sligyn told his tale. Not twenty minutes after Nevyn came in with his news, a messenger arrived from Lord Edar, whose demesne was in the north close to Corbyn’s, to announce that Corbyn and his allies had mustered their army. Edar himself was sending his wife and children to shelter with her brother in the east, and he and his warband would be joining Sligyn in Cannobaen.
“He’ll arrive in two days. The messenger was going to ride on to you, but I decided to take the news on myself. I took the liberty of sending it along to the rest of your loyal men. Thought we didn’t have any time to waste.”
“My thanks,” Lovyan said. “I’m afraid I don’t have the men to ride messages, anyway.”
“So Nevyn told me, and a grim thing that is, eh? Here, Your Grace, if an army had turned up at your gate, how long could you and the servants have held Dun Cannobaen?”
“Long enough for you to relieve us, my lord, but I’m glad I don’t have to put that boast to the test.”
“Just so.” Sligyn had a thoughtful sip of mead. “Well, the rest of your allies should ride in on the morrow. I told them to ride at night if they had to. We’ll leave you a good fort guard before we go.”
“Will you ride north after Corbyn?”
“West, my lady. Rhodry’s out in the wilderness with what? Fifty men and whatever excuses for guards that merchant had. Corbyn’s mustered at least two hundred men, and I’ll wager he’s on his way west right now.”
Lovyan bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“Don’t distress yourself unduly, Your Grace,” Nevyn broke in. “Later, I’ll have a few interesting things to tell you.”
“My lord,” Aderyn said. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I swear I’m telling the truth.”
Rhodry felt like grabbing the man by the shoulders and shaking him. For an hour now, he’d listened to so much talk of dweomer that he felt as if