Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [203]
“I think I owe you my life,” Rhodry said.
“Because of Rhys’s men yesterday, you mean? Well, indeed, I had a hand in that. Huh. No doubt your brother would have wept and wrung his hands when your body was found—at least in public.”
“No doubt, the piss-proud drunken sot.” Rhodry sat down next to Jill. “Well, good sir, it looks like Eldidd will have to work out her Wyrd with no help from me.”
“Perhaps so. We’ll have to see what the gods have in store.”
While they ate, mostly in silence, Nevyn pondered what the Great Ones might want done, now that the lad had been sent away from the province he was born to serve. He also wondered whether Rhodry were in danger. Now that he no longer held political power, he might well be of no further interest to the dark dweomer, but the hope seemed an idle one. Yet as he considered the problem, not one single dweomer warning came to him, only the generalized and normal fear that silver daggers, after all, often died young in battle. The lack of warnings made it plain that at least for now, Rhodry was in no danger from the masters of the black craft. It would be safe, then, for Nevyn to let them go on their way and to keep watch from a distance while he tried to influence Rhys to recall the exile.
“You know, Nevyn,” Rhodry said finally, “I’m cursed lucky that Jill loves me so much, or I’d have died soon enough on the long road.”
“Oh, hogwash!” Jill broke in. “You’re not a half-wit. You would have learned how to fend for yourself.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Rhodry’s voice went cold and flat. “In every battle I rode, I would have been volunteering for the point of the charge, or riding into the worst mob. There’s more than one way for a man to end his exile.”
It was a confession, quietly said. Jill grabbed his arm.
“But not now,” he went on. “Not when I’ve got you to live for.”
Jill flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. Nevyn sighed aloud at the irony of it, that by keeping Rhodry alive, Jill was already serving the dweomer, though she knew it not.
The next morning, Jill woke just at dawn and found Rhodry’s arms tightly round her. Gray light filtered in through the cracks in the stable walls, and the sound of rain drummed on the roof. She rested her hand on Rhodry’s chest and listened to the rain song mingling with his steady breathing, while she smiled at herself for finding Gadd’s hayloft more to her taste than her feather bed back in Dun Gwerbyn. When she thought of Cullyn, she had to close her eyes tight to force back her tears. Da, Da, I’m sorry, she thought, but you know I had to go. At least she’d left him in a safe place, where he’d never have to sleep in the rain again, no matter what happened to her. Bitterly she wondered if she would ever see him again, but she had made her choice, and she would follow Rhodry forever if the gods allowed.
And the gods could do what they wanted, she decided. She’d always lived a single day at a time, simply because she’d never had any choice but to live that way. The long road stretches into mist, Cullyn always said, and no one can see the end of it. She had Rhodry and her freedom to ride. As she fell back to sleep, she decided that they would do splendidly for now.
INCARNATIONS OF THE VARIOUS CHARACTERS
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Jill Brangwen Lyssa
Cullyn Gerraent Tanyc
Rhodry Blaen Gweran
Nevyn Galrion Nevyn
Seryan Ysolla Cadda
Lovyan Rodda Cabrylla
GLOSSARY
Aber (Deverrian) A river mouth, an estuary.
Alar (Elvish) A group of elves, who may or may not be bloodkin, who choose to travel together for some indefinite period of time.
Alardan (Elv.) The meeting of several alarli, usually the occasion for a drunken party.
Annwn (Welsh, literally, “no place.”) The name of the world to which the Deverrians emigrated.
Astral The plane of existence directly “above” or “within” the etheric (q.v.).