Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [119]
Yet Nevyn had to postpone the meeting for a little while, because Sligyn came striding up to them. He looked like a baffled bear when the hunting dogs first surround it.
“Now, here, Nevyn,” Sligyn bellowed. “I’m gravely worried. Young Rhodry’s gone daft. Stark out of his mind.”
“Indeed, my lord? Let me guess the kind of delusions the lad’s suffering from. He swears that Aderyn and I are both dweomer, and that Aderyn can turn himself into an owl.”
“Just that. I—” Sligyn’s mouth slackened as he finally realized that Nevyn was being sarcastic. “Oh, now, here! You’re not telling me it’s the truth, are you?”
“I am.”
Sligyn swung his head back and forth, looking at both of them in turn, just as the bear swings his when the dogs close in.
“By the black hairy ass of the Lord of Hell, what have I done? Ridden all this blasted way to rescue a pack of madmen? Even that silver dagger swears it’s true.”
“That’s because it is true,” Nevyn said. “I suppose I have to do some stupid trick to convince you.” He glanced around and saw a stick of firewood in the grass. “Here, watch.”
When Nevyn invoked the Wildfolk of Fire, they rushed to do his bidding and set the stick on fire. Sligyn swore, and he swore again when Nevyn had them douse it.
“You can touch it, my lord. It’s hot.”
Sligyn turned and ran back to the broch without so much as a backward glance. When the two elves burst out laughing, Aderyn snapped at them in their own language. Reluctantly they held their tongues.
“Go get ready to ride,” Aderyn said. “Get my horse for me, too, will you?”
Still grinning, Calonderiel and Jennantar hurried off. It was then that Nevyn saw Jill, standing at a little distance and watching him as warily as a stag in a forest. Without waiting for Aderyn to call to her, she walked over, studying him all the while. In spite of her dirty men’s clothing, in spite of her face that was different than Brangwen’s for all its beauty, Nevyn recognized her immediately. His first muddled thought was a surprise that she would be so tall.
“Good morrow, Jill. Our Aderyn’s told me somewhat about you.”
“Has he, now? Good things, I hope.”
“They were.”
Nevyn wished that he could simply tell her the truth, use his dweomer to make her remember and pour out his heart to say how glad he was he’d found her again—all forbidden by his dweomer-vows. Jill was studying him coolly and curiously.
“But you know,” she said, “haven’t we met before? On the road or suchlike when I was a child?”
“We haven’t.”
“Then I must be thinking of someone else. Passing strange—I could have sworn I’d met you.”
For a moment Nevyn nearly wept. Even after all these years, she still remembered him.
After a good bit of argument, the noble lords worked out their next moves in the war. Since they had dweomermen on their side to keep track of Corbyn’s movements, they could safely fall back to pick up their supply train, then head east, circling round in a feint designed to make Corbyn think that they were trying to bypass him in order to take his dun. Corbyn would be forced to follow, allowing them to pick the position for the inevitable battle. In the meantime, they could send messengers to any reinforcements coming from Dun Cannobaen. Cullyn idly wondered how many reinforcements they would get; the number depended on how many of Lovyan’s vassals held steady for her.
After the council of war broke up, Cullyn found Jill by the gates of the dun. She had gotten both their horses saddled and ready and was holding their reins while she waited for him.
“I asked Lord Rhodry for a boon, and he granted it,” Cullyn said. “You’re going to be taking messages to Dun Cannobaen as soon as we join up with the supply train.”
“Da! By the hells, I wanted to—”
“Do what? Ride to war with us? Sometimes I swear that you’ve got naught between your two ears!”
“I’ll wager I could hold my own.”
“Oh, don’t dribble on like a spewing drunkard! So what if you could? I’m not going to let you risk your life in battle when you’re the only thing I’ve got in the