Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [39]
No sooner were they safely in their own hall than Babryan wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.
“He’s too old. You can do better than that, Sevvi.”
“I hope so,” Sevinna said. “I didn’t like his chin, either.”
“It’s his beastly position that Mama’s so smitten with,” Wbridda put in. “But he just won’t do.”
“I’m glad you agree with me. Well, maybe he won’t like me. My father can’t give me that big of a dowry, after all.”
Wbridda smiled in an oddly sly way and sat down on a chair with a flounce of her dresses.
“We can make sure he’s not interested. Can’t we, Baba?”
“If we have to. We’ve got somewhat to tell you, Sevvi. It’s a secret, so you’ve got to promise you’ll never tell anyone, especially a man.”
“Of course I’ll promise. What is it?”
“It’s a thing we learned from Lady Davylla. She’s the wife of Lord Elyc of Belgwerger.”
“All the ladies are doing it,” Wbridda put in. “That’s why we’ve got to keep it a secret, you see. But anyway, Lady Davylla spends lots of time in court, and she says that even the princesses know. I don’t know about the queen, though.”
“Oh, she’s doubtless too busy with all that court stuff she has to do. But it’s ever so amusing, Sevvi, and I’ll wager it works.”
“What?”
“You have to swear first,” Babryan said. “Just a promise won’t do. Come on, Bry. Go get your little knife. We’ll do it by the fire.”
While Wbridda rummaged through her jewelry casket, Babryan put out all the candles so that the only light was a pool from the fire. When Sevinna and Babryan knelt down in the flickering shadows, Babryan giggled in pleasant excitement, and Sevinna caught her mood. Whatever this mysterious something was, it was much more amusing to think about than marrying a man she hardly knew. Wbridda knelt down beside them and opened her hand to show Sevinna a tiny knife with a silver handle and a blade of black obsidian.
“Lady Davylla has a Wise Woman living in her dun,” Wbridda explained. “She’s awfully, awfully old, she doesn’t even have any teeth, but she knows everything. She makes these knives, you see. Lady Davylla gives them to her special friends, and she gave one to us.”
“What are they for?”
“We’ll tell you once you swear,” Babryan said. “Here, we’re going to have to have a bit of your hair and a drop of your blood, but it won’t hurt. That knife’s awfully sharp.”
Wbridda cut off a tiny bit of Sevinna’s hair and laid it on the hearthstone, then pricked her index finger and squeezed a drop of blood onto the hair. Sevinna sucked her fingertip.
“Now you’ve got to swear you’ll never repeat any of this to one who doesn’t know the Goddess,” Babryan said.
“Which goddess?”
“We can’t say yet. Just swear.”
“All right. I swear I won’t betray the secrets to one who doesn’t know the Goddess.”
“And to any man ever.”
“And to any man ever.”
Babryan picked up the bit of hair and threw in into the fire.
“Aranrhodda,” she called out. “Aranrhodda, favor our cousin, and us, too, for bringing her to you!”
The bit of hair caught and burned with a drift of stench in the wood smoke. Sevinna went cold, wondering what she’d just done to herself, wishing she’d asked more before she’d sworn the vow, but Babryan and Wbridda were giggling. Oh, there can’t be any harm in it, Sevinna thought, not if they’d do it.
“There, now you’re one of us,” Babryan announced. “Lady Davylla will probably ride our way soon for a visit, and you’ll get to meet her. Oh, she’s ever so splendid.”
“But anyway,” Wbridda said, “if you don’t like this Timryc fellow, we’ll just work a charm to turn him cold to you. You can work lots of charms when you learn how, Sevvi. There’s one to turn a man cold to you, and one to make him love you, and one to make your father or brother favor the man you favor, just lots of them.”
“Oh, here,” Sevinna said, “I thought you didn’t even care what men did.”
“Well, it’s all going to come in handy someday.” Wbridda shrugged. “I don’t want to marry some dry stick of a man just because Da says I have to. This way there’s stuff you can do about it, you see.