Darkspell - Katharine Kerr [65]
Gweniver sat down and pressed her shaking hands together. She was going to enjoy every stripe the executioner gave him; she would enjoy watching him hang, too. Suddenly she felt the Goddess gathering behind her, a cold, dark presence like a winter wind through a window. She realized that if she used the holy laws for personal vengeance, she would be committing an impiety just as much as if she ignored them for the king’s sake. She lifted up her hands and prayed silently to the Goddess while Glyn stared into the fire and went on waiting.
Every man in the great hall knew that something foul had happened when a frightened page raced onto the dais and grabbed the king’s arm. After Glyn left, riders and noble-born alike speculated in a whispering flood of gossip. What could possibly be so wrong for the lad to have forgotten his courtesies that way? Ricyn considered the matter no affair of his and went on drinking. Soon enough, he figured, everyone would know all about it. Things were just settling down when Lord Oldac made his way through the tables and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Come with me, Captain. Councillor Saddar wants to speak to you.”
At the foot of the staircase stood Saddar, rubbing his hands together repeatedly.
“A terrible thing’s happened, Captain,” the councillor said. “Lord Dannyn has tried to rape the Lady Gweniver.”
Ricyn felt like a dead leaf, trapped in ice when a stream freezes.
“I thought you should know,” the old man went on. “I’m frankly terrified that our liege will pardon him contrary to all justice. If he should, please beg your lady to spare the city from the curse of the Goddess.”
“Listen, old man,” Ricyn snarled. “If our liege tries to weasel out of this, I’ll kill the bastard myself.”
Oldac and Saddar exchanged the briefest of smiles. Ricyn ran up the staircase, raced down the corridor, and came face-to-face with two guards outside Gweniver’s door.
“You can’t pass by. The king is in there.”
Ricyn grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him against the wall.
“I don’t care if the Lord of Hell is in there. I’ve got to see my lady.”
Just as the other guard made a grab at him, the door was flung open: Gweniver, pale, shaken, but unharmed.
“I thought I heard your voice,” she said. “Come in.”
When Ricyn stepped inside, he saw the king, rising from a chair. Never before had he been so close to the man he worshiped second only to her. He dropped to his knees.
“What’s this?” Glyn said. “How did you hear about it?”
“Councillor Saddar told me about it, my liege. You can flog me if you want to for intruding, but I had to see my lady safe with my own eyes.”
“No doubt.” He glanced at Gweniver. “Councillor Saddar, was it?”
“And Lord Oldac,” Ricyn added.
Gweniver was looking at the floor, thinking hard. He knew that the Goddess was upon her by the ramrod-straight way she stood and the cold power in her eyes.
“Tell me somewhat, Captain,” the king said. “How are the men going to take this news?”
“Well, my liege, I can’t speak for Lord Dannyn’s men, but my men and me would fight the Lord of Hell himself to defend our lady’s honor. We can’t just take this calm, like.”
“Especially not with the councillor stirring everyone up, my liege,” Gweniver said. “You know, somewhat’s coming clear to me about Councillor Saddar—not that we’d ever be able to prove a thing.”
“Indeed?” Glyn glanced Ricyn’s way. “Leave us.”
Ricyn rose, bowed, and backed out of the chamber. He spent a long, anxious night lying on his bunk and wondering what his lady and his king were deciding between them.
In the morning Gweniver came to the barracks to fetch him. By her special request Ricyn was allowed to witness the judgment in the audience chamber. Up on the dais Glyn sat in his ceremonial clothes with a golden sword in his hand. Four councillors, including Saddar, stood behind him, and two priests of Bel stood to his right. The witnesses stood at the foot of the dais, Gweniver among them. At the sound of a silver