Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [14]
“You know, silver dagger, I don’t mind admitting that it gladdens my heart to have a man of your experience joining the warband.”
“My thanks. Have you served the tieryn long, good sir?”
“All his life. I served his father first, you see, and truly, he was a great man. He’s the one who settled the war, and more by law than the sword. I fear me that Tieryn Braedd takes more after his grandfather.” Glyn paused, turning to Abryn. “Now, Abryn, Jill is our guest, so be courteous to her and take her outside to play.”
“That means you’re going to say somewhat interesting,” Abryn whined.
“Jill,” Cullyn said. “Out.”
Jill grabbed Abryn’s arm and hustled him out of the barracks fast. They lingered by the stables and watched the geese waddling through the rubble.
“Do those geese bite?” Jill said.
“They do. Huh, I bet you’re scared.”
“Oh, do you, now?”
“You’re a lass. Lasses are always scared.”
“We are not.”
“You are, too. And you’ve got a funny name. Jill’s not a real name. It’s a bondwoman’s name.”
“So what?”
“What do you mean, so what? It’s the worst thing, being one of the bondfolk. You shouldn’t be wearing those brigga, either.”
“I am not a bondwoman! And my da gave me these brigga.”
“Your da’s a silver dagger, and they’re all scum.”
Jill hauled back and hit him in the face as hard as she could. Abryn shrieked and hit back, but she dodged and punched him on the ear. With a howl, he leapt for her and knocked her down. But she shoved her elbow into his stomach until he let go. They wrestled, kicking, punching, and writhing, until Jill heard Cullyn and Glyn yelling at them to stop. Suddenly Cullyn grabbed Jill by the shoulders and pulled her off the helpless Abryn.
“Now, what’s all this?”
“He said silver daggers were all scum. So I hit him.”
Abryn sat up sniveling and wiping his bloody nose. Cullyn gave Jill a broad grin, then hastily looked stern again.
“Now, here, Abryn!” Glyn grabbed the boy. “That’s a nasty way to treat a guest! If you don’t learn courtesy, how can you serve a great lord someday?”
Berating him all the while, Glyn hauled Abryn off into the broch. Cullyn began brushing the dirt off Jill’s clothes.
“By the asses of the gods, my sweet, how did you learn to fight like that?”
“Back in Bobyr, you know? All the children always called me a bastard, and they said I had a bondwoman’s name, and so I’d hit them. And then I learned how to win.”
“Well, so you did. Ye gods, you’re Cullyn of Cerrmor’s daughter, sure enough.”
For the rest of the day, Jill and Abryn scrupulously avoided each other, but on the morrow morning Abryn came up to her. He looked at the ground near her feet and kicked a lump of dirt with the toe of his clog.
“I’m sorry I said your da was scum, and my da said you can have any name you want to, and you can wear brigga if you want to, and I’m sorry about all of it.”
“My thanks. And I’m sorry I made your nose bleed. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”
Abryn looked up grinning.
“Want to play warrior? I’ve got two wooden swords.”
For the next couple of days, life went on quietly in Tieryn Braedd’s dun. In the mornings, Cullyn and two of the riders rode out to patrol the oak wood; in the afternoons, the tieryn and the other two riders relieved them. Jill helped Abryn with his tasks round the dun, which left them plenty of time to play at swords or with Abryn’s leather ball. Jill’s only problem was Abryn’s mother, who believed Jill should be learning needlework instead of playing outside. Jill grew quite clever at avoiding her. At meals, the warband ate at one table in the great hall, while the tieryn and Glyn’s family ate at another. Once the councillor retired to his chambers, however, Braedd would come drink with the riders. He always talked about the feud, which he knew year by year, from the events that had happened long before he was born down to the most recent insult.
Finally, after