Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [89]
“This is fine for the likes of me.” He twitched his lips in the expression that did him for a smile. “Besides, anyone trying to reach you would have to trip over me.”
“Oh, nonsense! Nobody’s going to attack me right here.”
“We’ve already ferreted out one traitor in the dun, haven’t we? Who’s to say there aren’t any more?”
“Well, truly, I suppose you’re right.”
In a few moments, the gwerbret’s wife, Lady Labanna, a stout woman, her gray hair neatly pulled back into an embroidered kerchief, hurried over with her servingwomen trailing after.
“Carra, dear, I do wish you’d waited for the rest of us. It’s not seemly for you to come down to the great hall alone.”
“But I wasn’t truly alone, my lady. I have Lightning, and Yraen’s always here.”
Labanna favored dog and silver dagger alike with a sour smile, then sat down in her place at the head of the table. At her signal, a serving lass brought bread and watered wine.
Slowly, the hall filled up for the evening meal, riders and servants at their hearth, gwerbret and his noble-born servitors at his. Cadmar himself came in late, stopping by his wife’s table for a word before moving on to head up his own. Even though he limped on a twisted right leg, the gwerbret was an imposing man, standing well over six feet tall, broad in the shoulders, broad in the hands. That evening he repeatedly ran one hand through his slate-gray hair as he whispered to his lady. Carra could hear bits of their conversation over the general noise and clatter—a predictable worrying about when the relieving army might ride their way. Even when it did arrive, there was no guarantee, of course, that the battle would go their way.
“Just have to wait and see,” Cadmar finished, turning away. “Naught else we can do.”
Labanna watched him go with haunted eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” Carra burst out. “I’m not worth all this trouble.”
Yraen rose to a kneel and growled.
“Hush, child!” Labanna snapped. “No one blames you.”
“I blame myself. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be besieged.”
“Hush, hush, that’s not true.” Labanna leaned forward with a wry smile and caught her hand to squeeze it. “If it weren’t for the treaties between my lord and your husband, we wouldn’t be besieged. That’s a very different thing.”
“I suppose. I just—”
“It’s honorable of you, child, to worry for our sakes. But you must remember that these days, it’s your position that counts, not you. You’re not that obscure lass with no dowry anymore. I realize it’s difficult for you to get used to.”
“It is, truly.” Carra felt her mouth trembling and forced it to stop. “If it weren’t for the baby, I think I’d just turn myself over to them, and you’d all be safe.”
“Hush!” Labanna laid a warning hand on her arm. “You must never allow yourself to think such things.” She glanced at Yraen. “Make sure you keep a close watch upon your lady from now on.”
“I will, Your Grace. You need have no fear of that.”
Satisfied, Labanna sat back in her chair and turned the talk to other things while the meal was served. Although normally Cengarn’s dun set a generous table, with the siege, the chamberlain measured out each scrap of food. When the thin slices of meat arrived, they were spiced so heavily with pepper and Bardek cinnamon to cover the scent of spoilage that Carra couldn’t eat hers. Without thinking, she tossed it to Lightning, then realized that Yraen, silver dagger as he was, had been given none. What should she do, apologize and call attention to her selfishness, or let it pass and let him think she hadn’t even noticed? She could not make up her mind, felt tears of sheer frustration gathering. I cannot be a princess, she thought, I just don’t know how. All at once, she realized that the other women were looking at her in concern. She nearly wept.
“I feel unwell.” Carra rose, gesturing to Lightning. “I simply have to get out of all this noise.”
Yraen leapt up and caught her elbow just as the room spun round her in a blaze of candlelight. Although she did faint into