Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [81]
“Well, it is. But truly, sir, she hates him. She’d never betray her husband with him. Truly. Oh, ye gods, don’t tell Gweran, will you?”
“Rest assured. I’d never do anything of the sort. And listen, child, you hold your tongue, too. Hear me? For the life of you, not one word of tattling to Gweran.”
Too frightened to speak, Cadda nodded her agreement. As soon as Nevyn turned away, she got up and ran out of the hut.
The high Lords of Water had promised Nevyn another storm, which broke on schedule the following day, a nice gentle rain that would properly soak the fields. In spite of the weather, Nevyn bundled himself up in his cloak and rode up to Maroic’s fort. It was time for him to sound Gweran and Lyssa out about taking Aderyn in a formal apprenticeship. Besides, he wanted to take a look at the nasty situation Cadda had so inadvertently described. As he rode into the ward, where the cobbles were running with rain, Aderyn came dashing to meet him with a cloak pulled over his head.
“I’ve been watching for you. I just knew you’d come today.”
“And here I am. Going to help me stable my horse?”
Together they found an empty stall and tied Nevyn’s horse up out of the weather. While Nevyn took off the damp saddle, Aderyn leaned back against the wall and watched, his big eyes full of some question.
“What’s on your mind, lad?”
“I want to ask you somewhat. How did you make the rain come?”
“Here! What makes you think I did?”
“I saw you in a dream. You were sitting on the river-bank, and there was this big star around you. It was like fire, but it was blue. Then these Kings came to you, and you talked to them. There were four Kings. I saw the one who was dripping wet. Then it rained.”
Nevyn sighed. His last doubt that Aderyn was his apprentice vanished.
“I was invoking the wind and asking it to blow. The King of Air was quarreling with the King of Fire, and the King of Earth asked me to settle the quarrel. It’s like the High King of Deverry giving a judgment to warring lords.”
“And are you the High King, then?”
“I’m not. Just a way of speaking to make it clear.”
“Were the Kings angry at us, too?”
“They weren’t. Why did you think so?”
“Because we could have starved if there wasn’t any rain. Da said so.”
“Oh, Da was right, but the Kings of the Wildlands don’t know that, you see. Truly, I doubt if they’d care. They have so little to do with us that we look to them like the field mice do to us, say. If you found a starving field mouse, you’d feed it, but do you course the fields to see if mice need your help?”
Aderyn laughed aloud.
“Now, listen carefully,” Nevyn went on. “I’ve come to speak to your father. You need to decide if you want to come with me in the spring and learn all the things I know. It’s a big thing. Someday we’ll leave Blaeddbyr, and you won’t see your Mam and Da again for a long time.”
“But will we come back someday?”
“We will, for visits.”
Aderyn balanced on one foot and twisted the other around behind it. He chewed on his lower lip, a skinny little boy, suddenly frightened. But when he looked up, a man’s soul—the man he would someday be—looked out of his eyes for the briefest of moments as the two levels of his mind merged to make the most important decision of his life.
“I don’t want to go. But I know I will. I want to know things so much, Nevyn. It’s like wanting water when it’s all hot outside. You’ve just got to get some.”
“So it is. Done, then.”
The great hall was crowded and smoky with torchlight in the rain-dark day. At the front of the hall, Gweran sat cross-legged on a table, his harp in his lap, and sang with sweat running down his face. The men gazed up at him attentively while he recited a tale of a cattle raid and named member after member of the warband in decorated stanzas.
“We’d better just go see Mam,” Aderyn said. “She’s upstairs.”
As they went up the spiral staircase, Gweran’s pure liquid tenor followed them, chanting of glory. In the bard’s chamber, it was mercifully cool and quiet. One of the shutters hung open