Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [33]
“And here is the prince,” Adoryc said. “Does your lord have any message of import for him?”
“He does, Your Highness. My prince, Lord Gerraent has set the period of mourning until the turning of the fall. He humbly begs your understanding on this matter.”
“He has it, truly. Come to me before you return to the Falcon. I’ll give you a message for my lady.”
Adoryc dismissed the page in the care of another. Once they were alone, the King dropped his false civility.
“So. You seem to know what’s going on well enough. Did your foul dweomer show you Dwen’s death?”
“It did, but I never thought it would come so soon.”
The King’s face first paled, then went scarlet, but Galrion got his thrust in first.
“Why have you told the guards to keep me in?”
“Why do you think? I’m not having you ride out of here on the sly to your cursed old hermit. Here, this evil news of Lord Dwen made me remember your betrothed. What were you planning on doing? Marrying her and taking her to a hut in the forest while you dabble about with spells?”
“Just that, if she’ll go.”
“You stinking dog!” Adoryc’s mouth moved, seeking insults. “You arrogant little—”
“Oh, here, where do I get my arrogance but from you? Why shouldn’t a woman follow where her man wills to go?”
“No reason in the world—unless she’s the noble-born daughter of a great clan.” Adoryc stepped closer. “You ugly little dolt, haven’t you thought of the insult to the Falcon? Gerraent’s uncle died for the sake of our throne, and now you dare to treat their kin this way! Do you want to drive them to rebellion?” He gave Galrion a backhanded slap. “Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you until you’ve gotten sense into your head.”
Galrion stalked back to his chamber, slammed the door behind him, and flung himself down into his chair to think. There was nothing for it now but to break his betrothal—but the King would never allow that insult to the Falcon, either. I could slip away somehow, Galrion thought, climb the walls at night and be in the forest before they catch me—and break Gwennie’s heart by deserting her without even a message to explain. He had the horrible feeling that Rhegor was going to be displeased by the way he was handling things. With the period of mourning, you’ve got time, he told himself. At the thought, the dweomer-warning flared up so strongly that he shivered. For some reason that the dweomer couldn’t tell him, there was no time at all. Galrion got up and paced over to the window. When he looked down, he saw two armed guards standing at the foot of the broch directly below his window. Galrion rushed to his door and flung it open to find four more guards in the corridor. The captain managed to give him a sickly smile.
“My apologies, my prince. The King orders that you remain in your chamber. We’re only allowed to let your page through.”
Galrion slammed the door and returned to his chair. He wondered how long the King would make him wait before summoning him.
Four days, it turned out, four tedious days with no company but his books and his page, who brought him food and took away the leavings silently, furtively, because servants of an out-of-favor master often met ill ends at court. Every now and then, Galrion would open the door and chat with the guards, who were friendly enough, being as their place was secure no matter what happened to the prince. Once Galrion sent a message to the Queen and begged her to come see him. The answer came back that she didn’t dare.
Finally, on the fourth night, the guards announced that they were taking him to the King. When they marched Galrion into the royal chamber, Adoryc dismissed them. There was no sign of Ylaena.
“Very well. Have you had enough time to think about swearing me that vow? Leave this dweomer nonsense behind, and everything will be as it was before.”
“Father, believe me—I have no choice