Darkspell - Katharine Kerr [100]
“You seem vastly interested in Mael’s affairs,” Cadlew remarked.
“Of course. The guild needs to know where to spend its gifts. We don’t care to curry favor from the wrong lord.”
“True spoken. But, here, don’t spread this any further, will you? The princess Laligga’s given herself airs ever since her husband became Aberwyn. There’s more than a few who’d enjoy seeing her in a reduced state. And there are some widows, too, who’d fancy themselves consoling a prince in his later years.”
“So. This is all a woman’s matter?”
“Far from it. The princess has offended more than the ladies in residence, and the widows have brothers who see a chance at influence.”
“I see. Do you think Mael will be reinstated?”
“I hope not, for his sake. It would doubtless be very dangerous for his continuing good health, and you won’t get one more word out of me, good dame.”
What she had was quite enough. Primilla made sure to contact Nevyn immediately, because she had no desire to see Mael come home only to be poisoned by his kin.
From the window in Mael’s chamber, the ward of Dun Cerrmor looked as tidy and small as a child’s toy. Little horses trotted across barely visible cobbles; tiny men strode around and disappeared into little doors. Only the loudest noises drifted up to his window. That afternoon Mael was leaning on the windowsill and studying the familiar view when he heard the door open behind him.
“Glyn, king of all Deverry, approaches,” the guard sang out. “All kneel.”
Mael turned and knelt just as the king strode in. For a moment they studied each other in a kind of bemused shock. They both had aged so much since their last brief meeting.
“As of today,” Glyn said at last, “you’re a free man.”
“My humble thanks, Your Highness.”
Glyn glanced once around the chamber, then left, taking all the guards with him. Mael stared at the empty doorway for a long time, until at last Nevyn appeared in it.
“Get up, my friend,” the old man said. “It’s time to try your wings.”
As Mael followed him down the dark winding stairway, he stared at the walls, stared at the ceiling, stared at every person they met. When they went out into the ward, the sunlight rushed over him like water. He looked up and saw the wall of the dun rising above him, not below, and suddenly he was physically dizzy. Nevyn caught his arm and steadied him.
“The mind’s a strange thing,” the old man said.
“So it is. I feel bewitched or suchlike.”
At first the noise and confusion were overwhelming. It seemed that the entire ward was filled with men, shouting, laughing, leading horses by in a great clatter. Maidservants hurried back and forth with buckets of water, loads of firewood, armfuls of foodstuffs. The bright red and silver colors of Cerrmor were everywhere, troubling his recluse’s sight. Yet after a few minutes Mael’s dizziness turned to greed. He walked slowly, savoring every sight, from a splendid lord on horseback to a pile of old straw by the stables. When one of the king’s boarhounds graciously allowed him to pat it, he was so pleased that he felt like an idiot child, whom everything delights because he can place a value on nothing. When he remarked as much to Nevyn, the dweomerman laughed.
“And who’s to say that the idiot child’s not the wisest of us all?” Nevyn said. “Let’s go along to my chambers. Gavra should be joining us soon.”
But Gavra was already waiting in Nevyn’s sparsely furnished reception room. Mael ran to her, swept her into his arms, and kissed her.
“Oh, my love,” he said. “I’m afraid to believe this. I keep thinking we’ll wake on the morrow and find it only a cruel dream.”
“It blasted well better not be, after all the trouble I’ve gone to over the shop! Getting it transferred to Ebrua gave me such a headache that I had to take some of my own herbs.”
Nevyn estimated that it would take them about four days to reach the Eldidd border where,