Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [66]
“Good. Because if your uncle is unreasonable, you’re going to have to marry him.”
“Oh, by the Goddess!” Sevinna felt suddenly short of breath. “You’re right, aren’t you?”
“I’ll wager the scandal’s spreading already. My apologies. I never thought of what it might mean to your honor when I came up with this idea.”
“Better dishonored than dead. Don’t trouble your heart about it for a moment.”
And yet, of course, it did trouble her own heart, that after the love charms and Old Lore, after the assessing of suitors and the scheming of female relatives, her marriage might well come down to a stranger chance met on the road, and all because of scandal and Lord Rhannyr’s sense of humor. To her surprise, she found that Dwaen had been thinking along the same lines. After the noon meal, when she sat alone by a little window in the great hall, he sought her out, fetching a stool so that he could sit beside her chair like a page.
“Er, well,” he said, “I thought I’d best tell you about my dun and lands.”
“Why? I mean, I’m always glad of his lordship’s conversation, but uh, well, I—”
“Please, my lady. There’s no need for us to cross swords and spar. We both know that the gods have placed you in an awkward situation. Well, they’ve placed me in one, too. Here I am, tieryn in my own right, with no wife and no heirs, because the lass that I always thought I’d marry, from the time we were children, truly, well, she died of a winter fever.”
“Oh! My heart aches for your grief.”
Dwaen shrugged and looked away, brushing his dark hair back from his forehead with a broad hand.
“It was over two years ago now. You wouldn’t be living with another woman’s ghost or suchlike. I’ll never mention her again, I promise you, but I thought you should know.”
Sevinna suddenly wondered if there were another lord in the kingdom who would be so scrupulous about his lady’s feelings. Dwaen looked back at her and smiled.
“I’ve got rather a lot of land, actually. You could live well in my dun.”
“But my lord, this is so sudden—”
Their eyes met, and they burst out laughing.
“Sudden, indeed,” said Dwaen. “But here we blasted well are. The thing is, I know somewhat of your uncle and your father, and I doubt me that I bring the kind of alliances they need.”
“Oh.” Sevinna considered, chewing on her lower lip. “Well, it’s kind of a nasty problem, then. But if the scandal spreads, then no one will marry me.”
“Exactly. I suppose we could always pretend that we really did elope.”
“I suppose. We’d probably best wait and see what my uncle thinks about it all.”
Nothing very good, as it turned out. They all spent an uncomfortable day and night waiting at Rhannyr’s willing, if overextended, hospitality before Gwerbret Tudvulc and half his warband charged in. Sevinna was up in her guest chamber, talking with Jill, when they heard the clattering and cursing out in the ward.
“Oh, Goddess defend me!” Sevinna said, looking heavenward. “That must be my uncle.”
They rushed downstairs and outside to find the ward mobbed with men and horses. Not only was Tudvulc there, but Lord Elyc as well, met on the road home, apparently, and swept along by the gwerbret. Just outside the door to the great hall stood Rhannyr and Dwaen, with Rhodry behind them. Sevinna would have run out, but Jill caught her arm.
“Let’s stay in the doorway,” she whispered. “They’ll see us soon enough.”
Red-faced and growling, Tudvulc dismounted and strode over to Dwaen and Rhannyr, both of whom bowed as deeply as they could bend. A last few chickens fled squawking at his approach.
“You I know.” Tudvulc waved a hand at Rhannyr, then turned on Dwaen. “You! What are you doing with my niece?”
“Protecting her from harm and naught more, Your Grace.”
“Hah! What do you think I am, a halfwit?”
“Never, Your Grace. If you feel her honor’s been in the least degree besmirched, then I’ll marry her gladly.”
“Cursed right you will!” Tudvulc looked round, saw Sevinna, and growled again. “Ye gods! As bad as your blasted mother!”
And that was Sevinna’s betrothal ceremony. When she caught Dwaen