Days of Blood and Fire - Katharine Kerr [112]
By the time he got back to the ward, the sunlight had topped the walls. Outside the barracks, the men of the war-band were up and moving round, some ducking their faces in the water of the horse trough, others standing in a clot near the privies, a few straggling toward the great hall and breakfast.
“Yraen!” Draudd called out. “Jill was out here looking for you. Better be careful, lad. She’ll be putting the evil eye on you or suchlike.”
“Oh, hold your ugly tongue! Does she want to see me?”
“She does and right away. She’d be in the great hall, she said.”
When Yraen walked into the hall, he saw Jill sitting at the table of honor. Since the gwerbret and his lady were also there, he hesitated, wondering if he should approach, but Jill saw him and hailed him, waving him over. With a bow to the gwerbret he knelt beside her.
“Yraen, I’ve a task for you,” Jill said. “I want to put a guard near Prince Daralanteriel’s chamber. The chamberlain tells me that right next to it is a little room, for a servant, like, where you can sleep from now on. You’ll be right at hand if there’s trouble. And then, during the day, I want you to keep a watch on Princess Carramaena whenever she’s not in the women’s hall or with her husband.”
Yraen felt as if she’d slapped him across the face. He wanted to scream at her and tell that he was the worst man in the world for this duty, but how was he going to explain that being near the princess was a dagger in his heart, that he’d been fool enough to fall in love with a married woman? Jill hesitated, considering him with her piercing blue stare.
“What’s wrong?”
Nearby the gwerbret and Labanna had paused, as if to listen.
“Naught,” Yraen said. “It’s just—ah, it’s naught. I’ve just been saying farewell to Rhodry, that’s all, and wondering if ever I’ll see him again.”
“I see. I’d love to ease your mind, but frankly, I’ve been wondering the same thing myself. These aren’t the best of times, Yraen, which is why I need a guard over the princess. You’re as courtly as any man in the dun, after all, and I know I can trust you.”
“My thanks” He swallowed hard. “I’ll do my best to deserve your trust.”
“Good. There’s the chamberlain now. Go get your gear from the barracks, and we’ll get you moved over to the broch.”
Yraen rose, bowed again to his grace, and hurried off. He felt much as he had when he’d once been wounded in battle, a stunned disbelief that such could be happening to him, a cold shock that had left him feeling light-headed, as if he were going to drift into the sky. When he’d been wounded, however, the pain had started right after, giving him something to fight against, to focus upon and use to pull himself together and ride to safety. Now he had nothing to fall back on but his honor, a tarnished commodity, a dull blade indeed after so many years on the long road, and there was no safety, none, from the treachery of his heart. As he was cursing Jill and his luck both, Carra came down the staircase with her maid and a page hurrying after. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, just from a hunger like fire.
When Dallandra woke again, she found herself trapped in a cage. For a moment she lay still, staring in disbelief at the view round her. Not only was she penned in a cubical cage made of branches lashed together, but this entire rickety structure was hanging from the limb of an enormous leafy tree. She could see it quite clearly through the slatted roof, an arch of branch, a canopy of leaves. Automatically she laid her hand on her throat and found the amethyst figurine still safe and present. When she sat up, aching in every muscle and tendon, the cage swayed. She grabbed the nearest bar and steadied herself while she looked round. Not far away hung another cage, made of the same roughly trimmed branches, confining the young page, who was sitting all curled up with his head on his knees and his arms round his head, as if he were trying to make the world go away by pretending it didn’t exist.
She looked