Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [40]
Sevinna nodded. She did see, entirely too well.
On the morrow, Gwerbret Tudvulc called Sevinna into his private council chamber for a little chat. Her uncle, so tall and stout and noisy, had always intimidated Sevinna, and being dependent on his charity only frightened her the more. Tudvulc sat her down in a chair and strode back and forth by an open window while they talked. His mop of brown hair and mustaches had gone quite gray since the last time she’d seen him.
“Now here, lass. No use in mincing words, eh? I want you to take a good look at Timryc here. He’s got splendid connections, a good bit of land. You’d have plenty of pretty dresses from a man like that, eh?”
Sevinna smiled out of duty alone.
“But there’s no use in jumping at the first hare out of the bushes, either,” Tudvulc went on. “You’re my niece, got connections of your own, and you’re blasted good-looking, too. A pretty face is worth half a dowry, eh? So you just wait and see what kind of game we can beat out of the forest, lass. No rush. You’re always welcome at my table.”
“His Grace is ever so kind.” Sevinna bowed her head. “I’m willing to wait for the right match.”
“Good, good. Never know about you lasses, eh? Most of you are so eager to get that crown of roses on your head you can’t think straight.” He gave her a twisted grin that was doubtless meant to be jolly and avuncular. “Oh, the gwerbret of Buccbrael has a young son, too. Be a cursed good alliance for both our clans, and I hear the lad’s already turning the heads of the local lasses. Good-looking sort. A year or two younger than you, but young men grow faster with a wife in their bed. We’ll see what we can turn up, truly.”
Bowing, a page appeared in the doorway.
“Your Grace? There’s a messenger here from the gwerbret of Caenmetyn. He says it concerns an urgent matter of justice, an escaped murderer.”
“Indeed? Send him straight in. Here, lass, you run along to your aunt and have a nice little ride.”
Sevinna rose, curtsied, and made a grateful escape. In the corridor, she passed the messenger, a warrior with the blazon of Caenmetyn on his road-stained shirt.
The afternoon’s expedition rode slowly along the grassy banks of the Sironaver, sparkling in the sun, until they came to a spot where willow trees had been planted to give some shade for just this sort of party. The grass had been trimmed back with a scythe, too, and beds of bright flowers made pleasant curves by the riverbank. When the others dismounted, Wbridda, with her falcon on her gloved wrist and one of the pages riding behind, went off into the grasslands to hunt. As she’d been told to do, Sevinna waited a moment before dismounting. Sure enough, Lord Timryc hurried to her side to help her down from her sidesaddle. His hands were strong on her waist, his smile carefully courtly as he set her down.
“This is truly a lovely place,” Timryc said. “Will my lady honor me by walking down the river to see the view?”
“My thanks, my lord. What a pretty thought.”
As they walked, Sevinna found herself tongue-tied; all she could do was ask him questions about his life at court, but the questions had to be carefully phrased, as it would be most discourteous if he thought she were prying into his financial worth or standing. Fortunately, Timryc had no difficulty at all keeping a conversation going, especially when the subject was himself. Sevinna was amazed at how often he could mention the times the king had spoken to him or the queen had thanked him for some favor.
Getting back to the privacy of the women’s quarters was like finding refuge from a storm. Sevinna sank gratefully into a chair and wondered if she could feign a headache to get out of sitting next to Timryc at dinner. Babryan sat down next to her and gave Wbridda a scowl.
“Go change that dress! You’ve got blood all over your sleeve.”
“We had a good hunt,” Wbridda said. “Two sparrows and a crow.”
“Ugh! I don’t care. Or wait! Did you get some of the crow’s feathers?”
With a grin, Wbridda pulled three black tail feathers out of her kirtle and held