Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [30]
Beryn looked Rhodry’s way with expressionless eyes. Rhodry merely shrugged, supposing, as the lord doubtless did, that the lady had chosen to cheat the gwerbret’s justice and die on her own terms. Beryn turned back to the rider.
“Well, here I am. Let’s ride and get back there.”
Behind its low walls, Beryn’s dun was a straggly, untidy place, a low squat broch, a dirt ward crammed with stables and storage sheds. When the warband streamed in through the gates, it filled the ward and turned it to a riot of confused servants and dismounting riders. Shouting his name, Beryn’s fort-guard mobbed their lord, then told him the same story all over again, while the chamberlain bowed to the gwerbret and apologized repeatedly for the humble lodgings. At a whispered order from Dwaen, Rhodry stuck close to Lord Beryn, who barely seemed to notice he was there.
“Should we get a couple of axes and break down the door, my lord?” a rider said. “Take a while, but we’ll get it in the end.”
“My lord?” Rhodry stepped forward. “I’m good at climbing. If you’ll give me permission to enter your lady’s chamber, I can go up the broch and come in through the window easy enough.”
“My thanks, Silver Dagger,” Beryn said. “Come round here. I’ll show you which window it is.”
As they hurried around the broch, Beryn’s narrow eyes showed no more than a flicker of distaste for the discovery that inevitably waited for them. He pointed out a window on the second floor of the rough stone broch, then ran inside to wait in front of the lady’s door. Rhodry took off his spurs and sword belt, handed them to Jill, then jumped to a windowsill and started up from there. Since little ledges and flat flints stuck out all over the wall, the rough stone was easy climbing. At the window, he found the shutters closed, but he pushed them open with one hand and clambered inside.
The dimly lit chamber reeked with the sickly odor of vomit and some sweetish drug. On the canopied bed lay a figure, huddled up, clasping its stomach with both hands. Rhodry strode over and pulled the blanket back to find a stout man, naked, his skin bluish, his broad face contorted and blue from his last agony. He lay in a pool of vomit and urine, and his bloodshot eyes stared up sightless at the embroidered blazons on Lord Beryn’s bed. Rhodry stepped back fast.
“Gods preserve us! She’s a ruthless little bitch!”
He ran to the door and unbarred it to let Lord Beryn and the gwerbret in. At the sight of the corpse in his bed, Beryn swore aloud. He began to shake, a tremor of rage that left him speechless and scarlet-faced. Behind him came Coryc with Dwaen and Lord Cadlew, with Jill trailing behind. Coryc’s careful mask of sympathy shattered at the sight.
“Bavydd!” Coryc said. “It has to be! Oh, by the hells, then where’s Lady Mallona?”
“Your Grace, if I may speak?” Jill broke in. “I’ll wager she’s wearing Bavydd’s clothes and riding one of her husband’s horses. It must have been her that the servants saw leave the dun last night.”
“And she’s heading south for Cerrmor,” Beryn snarled. “I’ll wager on that.”
“Cerrmor?” the gwerbret said. “Why would she do that?”
“Where else can she go?” Beryn spoke so quietly that it was frightening. “Her wretched brother had a wife and children there, and Bavydd must have kin. I know my wife, Your Grace. She could fool the gods themselves when she gets to lying. But she’ll never reach Cerrmor. I swear it by the Lord of Hell himself. She’ll never reach it alive.”
Yelling for fresh horses, Beryn ran down the stairs. Although the gwerbret hurried after him, Dwaen hesitated, motioning to Jill and Rhodry to wait with him.
“Think we’ll catch her?” the tieryn said.
“Who knows, my lord?” Rhodry said. “She’s got a day’s start on us, but only one horse. Huh. I’ll wager she can steal others. I wouldn’t put anything