Darkspell - Katharine Kerr [109]
Slowly the straggling line wound through the low hills, scrubby with trees and underbrush. Methodically Rhodry recalled every man at the dun and wondered if she would find him tempting. That every man who saw her would want Jill was a foregone conclusion in his mind; the question was, would she take someone up on it? All at once the sound of a silver horn cut through his black brooding. With an involuntary shout he rose in the stirrups and looked around. Far ahead down the road was a warband, armed and ready, drawn up across their line of march.
“Enemies, lads!” Gwivan shouted. “Arm!”
While he unlaced his shield from his saddle peak and pulled it up on his left arm, Rhodry guided his horse with his knees, turning it out of line and urging it up past the carts. The line of march dissolved into a swirling, cursing confusion as the other men did the same. Just as he reached the front line, another horn sounded, and down from the hills swept a second warband to cut them off from behind. Rhodry began to wonder if he’d ever see Jill again, faithful or not. Swearing under his breath, he pulled a javelin from the sheath under his right leg just as the enemy warband began to walk their horses forward.
“Gwivan!” the leader called out. “Surrender, you young dolt.”
The lord urged his horse a few paces ahead of his grim and jostling men. Since Rhodry estimated that there were forty men behind them and thirty in front, he braced himself to die fighting if Gwivan refused to surrender.
“Use your wits, lad!” said the enemy lord. “It’s not even your feud. Let your father ransom you and your pack. As long as you don’t reach Daen’s side today, I don’t give a pig’s fart about killing you. There’s no dishonor in surrendering to this kind of odds, and besides, we can use the coin.”
“That’s all well and good, Ynryc,” Gwivan called back. “But what about Lord Degwyc?”
“He’s not riding with us, and I’ll give you my solemn word of honor that you’ll be safe from him while you’re under my charge.”
Gwivan considered for so long that Rhodry wanted to curse in frustration. His life was hanging in a web of other men’s feuds, and he didn’t even know who they were.
“Done,” Gwivan said at last. “I’ll take your pledge.”
Rhodry sighed sharply in relief.
Slowly the waiting enemies rode forward and surrounded them. Ynryc took up a position by one cart and watched as, one at a time, Gwivan and his men rode up and disarmed. Rhodry came at the very end. He threw his javelins into the cart first, then slowly and reluctantly drew his sword, a beautiful blade of the finest steel, with a hand guard worked in the shape of the dragon of Aberwyn. It was the one thing he loved as much as Jill, and laying it down on the pile hurt.
“That’s a fine sword, silver dagger,” Ynryc remarked. “Battle loot?”
“It wasn’t, my lord, but a gift from a man I served well.” Rhodry was thinking of his father, who had given it to him.
“You must have fought like a fiend from hell to have earned a blade like that.” Ynryc turned to Gwivan, sitting sullenly on horseback beside him. “Your father must be serious about his obligations if he’d actually part with coin to hire a silver dagger.”
Gwivan set his mouth in a tight line.
“Ah, it’s no fault of yours that your da’s a cursed miser,” Ynryc went on. “Think he’ll pay the ransom for this lad?”
“My father is an honorable man,” Gwivan snarled. “And he’s not a miser.”
“Merely a bit careful with his coin, eh?”
When Ynryc roared with laughter, Gwivan’s face went scarlet with shame. Rhodry felt a cold, sinking dread. If his lordship didn’t pay over the ransom, Rhodry would be reduced to little better than a bondsman, Ynryc’s virtual property for years until he worked off the debt.
Lord Marclew was in such a rage that everyone in the great hall heard the news. With a flustered scribe and chamberlain trailing after him, he strode back and forth and bellowed out curses on Ynryc’s name, clan, and masculinity. In the curve of the wall, Jill stood with a cluster of serving lasses and watched the lord, an enormous man, still hard-muscled