Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [84]
Tanyc turned scarlet, spun on his heel, and strode off. Gweran smiled after his retreating back. You fool, he thought, a bard has weapons stronger than steel. Although he knew that Maroic would settle this matter quietly if only he asked, Gweran wanted more. Getting rid of Tanyc wasn’t enough vengeance.
That very night, after still another tale of adultery gone wrong, Gweran begged Maroic’s leave to sing a new song of his own composing about hunting in the summer. Since he loved hunting, of course the lord agreed. As Gweran tuned up the harp, he saw that Tanyc was relaxed over a tankard of ale and doubtless thinking his mockery over for the night. Gweran began to sing about flying hawks out in the meadow, where the falcon flies the highest of all and swoops down on pretty birds for sport. The warband fell silent, watching Tanyc, whose hand gripped the tankard so hard his knuckles were white. Gweran went on singing about the pretty white dove whom a little lad in the town loved for a pet, but the cruel hunter launched his falcon for her. Greedy to rend her in his claws, the falcon chased her all over the field, while her little heart was breaking in fear as she fluttered pathetically ahead. Just as the falcon was about to strike, up from the hedgerow sprang the lad who loved her and shot the falcon through the heart with an arrow.
“And the pretty white dove fluttered safe to her love,” Gweran sang, then broke off in midline.
White as the dove, Tanyc sprang from his seat and strode down the hall. Gweran set his harp aside and gave him a mild smile.
“You bastard,” Tanyc whispered. “That’s enough!”
“Enough of what? There’s a fair bit more of the song to come, my friend.”
Tanyc drew his sword and swung in one smooth motion, but Gweran was ready. He threw himself backwards off the table as the hall broke into shouting. Gweran tumbled inelegantly into the straw and scrambled up in time to see the warband mobbing Tanyc. They tackled him, threw him down, and disarmed him. Lord Maroic was on his feet, yelling for order as the maidservants screamed. At last the hall was quiet. The servants pressed back against the wall; a few women were weeping. Twisting his arms tight behind him, three men hauled Tanyc to his feet.
“What’s all this?” Maroic snapped. “Have you gone daft? Drawing your sword on a bard, and him unarmed at that!”
In his comrades’ arms, Tanyc was shaking too hard to answer. Gweran stepped forward and did his best to look bewildered.
“If you disliked the song as much as all that, you might simply have told me.”
“You bastard!” Tanyc shouted. “You little bastard! You planned all this. You’ve been working on me for days!”
“Hold your tongue,” Maroic snarled, stepping closer. “And why would the bard do such a thing?”
The last piece of the trap sprung shut. Desperately Tanyc looked this way and that, as if he were begging someone to help him. Afraid to earn a bard’s revenge, the white-faced riders stayed silent.
“Ill temper is one thing, impiety another,” Maroic went on. “I hate to do this, but the laws are the laws. Take him out and hang him. Do it now. I want it over with.”
Tanyc went as limp in his captor’s arms as if he were going to faint. By the hearth, Cadda screamed, burst out weeping, and went running for the staircase.
“It’s a hard thing, truly,” Maroic remarked to all and sundry. “But no man draws on my bard and lives to boast about it. Does anyone here dare quibble over my judgment?”
When everyone shook their heads in a terrified no, Maroic nodded in satisfaction.
“Go on, hang him. Take the torches and shove him off the wall. No use in letting him brood about it all night long. I want it over and done with.”
Shouting a war cry, Tanyc made a desperate struggle, breaking free and hitting out bare-handed at his captors. Doubtless he was hoping that they’d cut him down with a sword, but the warband wrestled him to the floor and bound him hand and foot. As they dragged him away, Gweran had to exert all his will to keep from smiling.
By two hours after dawn, the news was all over Blaeddbyr that Lord