Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [185]
“True enough,” Dannyan said. “I’ve been thinking about the gwerbret of Caminwaen’s younger daughter. With Rhys and Rhodry always feuding, it would be wise to give the tieryn some connections with another gwerbretrhyn.”
“Now, that’s an excellent point, and she’s a level-headed lass.”
Jill went as still as a hunted animal. A number of things Lovyan had noticed all came together in her mind.
“Oh, Jill, my sweet,” Lovyan said. “You’re not in love with my wretched son, are you?”
For an answer Jill blushed scarlet.
“You poor child,” Lovyan said. “You have all my sympathy, but Jill, I can never let you marry Rhodry.”
“I’m more than aware of that, Your Grace,” Jill said, and she was in perfect control of every word. “Besides, I have no doubt at all that Lord Rhodry is going to make his wife a very bad husband.”
It was so perfectly done that Lovyan was impressed.
“I see.” Lovyan gave her a pleasant little nod. “I’m glad that you’re such a sensible lass.”
Lovyan and Dannyan exchanged a glance, then changed the subject. Later, they sent Jill off on an errand and discussed the matter, agreeing that whether she could sew or not, Jill was going to fit very well into the court. Without an open word being said, they now knew who Rhodry’s mistress was, and they could pick his wife accordingly.
Since Lovyan knew that Nevyn had an interest in Jill, she made a point of discussing the matter with him privately. As she expected, Nevyn was disappointed, but he seemed resigned.
“After all, I’ll see her often in your dun.”
“Of course, as long as things sit well with you.”
“Oh, here, Lovva! What have you been thinking, that I was an old ram about to make a fool of myself over a young ewe?”
Lovyan felt her cheeks coloring, but Nevyn was far more amused than insulted.
“I assure you,” he went on, “that I’m more aware than most of the years I carry. I’m fond of Jill, but truly, my main interest in her is her raw dweomer talent.”
“Of course! It’s very odd, but it’s so hard to keep in mind that you’re dweomer—that anyone can be dweomer, truly—and here I saw Jill have that vision of hers.”
“Well, the mind shrinks from what it can’t understand. I heard your bard practicing his praise song about the war. He’s reporting very faithfully what happened. Do you think anyone will believe a word of it in, say, fifty years?”
“They won’t. A typical bard song, they’ll say, full of lies and fancies. And you know, maybe it’s just as well.”
Three days later, the message finally came from Rhys. Lovyan had an odd premonition about it and decided to read it privately rather than having it read aloud in the open hall. She’d made the right decision.
“My lady mother,” it ran. “Forgive me for the delay in attending to your important affairs. I have been investigating the matter of this war in order to ascertain whether Lord Rhodry’s report was in the least accurate. I am summoning him and his allies to Aberwyn to give me an account of their conduct. You, of course, are also most welcome to my meat and mead, and we shall settle matters then. Your humble son, Rhys, Gwerbret Aberwyn.”
“You little beast!” Lovyan said aloud. “You’re certainly Tingyr’s son, aren’t you?”
Nevyn was more than pleased when Lovyan asked him to join her entourage for the trip to Aberwyn. He even allowed her to provide him with a new shirt and decent brigga, so that he could pass inconspicuously as one of her councillors. Lovyan was taking Jill, Dannyan, her scribe, several servants, and then Cullyn as the captain of an honor guard of twenty-five men, fifteen for her, ten for Rhodry, as their ranks allowed. As she sourly remarked, Rhys could feed part of her household for a while after letting her vassals feed off her for so long.
“I’m rather surprised you’re taking Jill,” Nevyn remarked. “She’s unused to large courts and their ways.”
“Well, she really does have to start getting used to them. Besides, having her there will keep Rhodry calm.”
Nevyn was about to make some remark about trouble with Cullyn if Jill were blatantly