Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [191]
“Then come with me. I’m going to leave tomorrow with Jill and some of the men. Cursed if I’ll sit around here and let Rhys insult me. You saw him turn and speak to Peredyr, not me.”
“I did, and you’ve got every right to be furious, but please, lad, try to contain yourself. You’re right. By all means, let’s leave on the morrow—and early.”
“At the crack of dawn. I can stand it for one more night.”
Rhodry spoke so calmly, and his plan of leaving was so sensible, that Nevyn never felt the trouble coming. Later, of course, he would curse himself for a fool.
In Lovyan’s enormous suite, the noble lords who’d fought with Rhodry were having a conference of sorts. For all that Peredyr tried to calm them, they were furious at the insult. Sligyn in particular limped round and swore that if he weren’t such a law-abiding man, he’d lead another rebellion then and there. Rhodry perched on the windowsill and rather wished that he would. Finally, when Dannyan and Jill came to serve the men ale, Sligyn stopped his puffing and sank wearily into a chair.
“My lord?” Jill offered Sligyn a tankard.
“My thanks.” Sligyn took one from the tray. “I’m glad you weren’t there to listen to His Grace’s little farce, Jill. Would have ached your heart, eh?”
“That’s an odd thing,” Lovyan broke in. “I wonder why he didn’t have Jill summoned. He certainly had everyone else up before him. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d hauled in the carters and spearmen.”
“I admit I wondered about that, Your Grace,” Jill said. “But I’m glad he didn’t.”
“No one likes being called a liar to your face, eh?” Sligyn paused for a soothing gulp of ale. “Cursed good thing old Nevyn was there.”
Jill came over to Rhodry and offered him the tray. When he took one, she smiled at him in a way that soothed him considerably. The lords went on with their wrangling.
“We’re leaving for home on the morrow,” Rhodry said softly. “Nevyn’s going to come with us, too. I’ve had all I can stand of my cursed brother for now.”
“So have I, truly.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Naught. The way he treats you aches my heart, that’s all.”
With his free hand Rhodry caught her arm so hard that she nearly dropped the tray.
“What has Rhys been saying to you?”
“I just happened to meet him in the corridor, that’s all.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“Well, he bowed and said I was beautiful. Just a courtly sort of compliment.”
All at once Rhodry realized that every person in the room had turned their way. He let Jill go and stood up to face his mother’s level gaze.
“Rhodry,” Lovyan said wearily. “Your brother was doubtless speaking to Jill only to annoy you. He’s so torn to pieces about his wife that he’s not going to prowl round some other woman.”
“You’d best speak the truth, Mother.”
“I do. I swear it to you.”
“Then I believe you.”
Much later, when it was time to go down to the great hall for dinner, Rhodry had a chance for a private word with Lovyan. She agreed wholeheartedly that he should leave on the morrow.
“The rest of the settlement lies between me and Rhys, anyway. You’ll only have one more meal at his table, so please, Rhoddo, watch what you say tonight?”
“I will, Mother. I promise.”
When he took his place at Rhys’s left, Rhodry did his best to keep that promise by attending strictly to his food and speaking only when spoken to. Rhys never said one word to him, since he was discussing the land settlements with Lovyan. Finally, when the mead was being served, Rhodry got up and bowed to his brother.
“If His Grace will excuse me?”
“By all means.” Rhys paused, smiling. “By the way, brother, you’ve found yourself quite a little mistress, haven’t you? She seems to be as skilled with a sword as she is in other matters.”
Through a red berserker’s haze Rhodry heard Lovyan gasp.
“I’d rather His Grace left Jill out of this,” Rhodry said.
“Indeed?” Rhys rose to face him. “You seem to have kept her quite in the middle of it. How does it feel to have a lass fight your battles for you?”
Rhodry’s sword was half out of its scabbard before he realized