Days of Blood and Fire - Katharine Kerr [57]
“I doubt it, lad. Our Allonry may be noble-born, but he’s a cowardly little get, all in all. I’d watch your back around him, though, if I were you. You’re smaller than him.”
Jahdo grinned. Rhodry was frankly disappointed that the boy had proved himself so clumsy; he had mettle, did young Jahdo, in his solid little way.
“How badly has the pack been hounding you?”
“Not very, truly. No one did cause me grief at all till Alli started in on me just now. Cae and Bran were even kind of nice to me, this morning, like.”
“Well, I suspect that if you just keep on taking Alli’s — insults like a man, then Cae and Bran will be nice to you again.”
“Probably so. This be a strange place, Cengarn. I guess the old tales about the Slavers be true. You do all really be cruel and fierce, bain’t?”
Rhodry was honestly shocked.
“Well, here, I suppose we’d seem such to you, but—”
“At least you don’t take heads anymore. Or do you? I haven’t seen any hanging on walls and stuff like the tales talk about.”
“Of course we don’t!” Rhodry stopped, nagged by a memory of a time he’d seen a lord run the head of a particular enemy onto a pike. “Well, only if we’re truly provoked.”
“You’ve never cut off anyone’s head and tied it to your saddle, have you?”
“Never. I can give you my word on that, lad. Ych! And I never will, either.”
Jahdo sighed in a relief so profound that it was comic. Rhodry was about to make a jest when he glanced round to see Matyc, standing between two sheds and watching them. And just how long have you been there, you bastard? Rhodry thought. Lord Matyc was beginning to gripe his soul, and badly.
“Rhodry,” Jahdo was saying. “Cae did tell me that there’s a princess in the dun. Be that true?”
“It is. Would you like to be presented to her?”
“I would. I never did see one, you know. I mean, my father would think I’m being silly, wanting to see her just ‘cause she be a princess, but I do.”
“Well, she’s a pretty young woman, but ordinary enough, not like a two-headed calf or suchlike. Here, let’s go into the broch and see if we can find her, and then you’d best get back to Meer. He shouldn’t be left alone.”
“He was going to nap for a bit, you see, and so he did say I might go outside if I wanted.”
If Carra had been up in the women’s hall, forbidden to all men except for the very eldest, Jahdo would have had to go without meeting his real princess, but as it was, they found her sitting down in the great hall with the gwerbret’s wife, Labanna, and her two serving women. With their sewing in their laps, all four of the ladies had made themselves comfortable in curved three-legged chairs near the table of honor. At Carra’s feet lay a big gray dog with a roach of black hair down his back, or perhaps, judging by his yellow eyes and the feral look in them, he was as much wolf as dog. Although Labanna and her women were the matronly sort, stout and gray-haired, Carra was more beautiful than merely pretty. Her wavy blond hair, cut abnormally short for a woman, due to some odd circumstances, framed a delicate face and set off large blue eyes. That particular day she was wearing a dress of fine blue linen, heavily embroidered with alternating bands of interlace and flowers around the neck and down the sleeves, and kirtled rather high to allow for her early pregnancy. Round her neck hung a pendant of reddish-gold, ornamented with roses in bas relief. Jahdo frankly goggled at her.
“Oh, she be lovely,” he whispered. “And never have I seen such a fancy dress.”
The Rhiddaer, Rhodry supposed, had to be a fairly rough place, then. As he led the boy over, he wondered what Jahdo would make of the finery round the High King’s court in Dun Deverry. At their approach the dog rose to a crouch and growled.
“Lightning, whist!” Carra snapped her fingers. “Come round here. That’s a good lad.”
Reluctantly the dog slunk to the side of her chair and lay down with a small whine. Rhodry knelt in front of Carra and Lady Labanna and motioned to Jahdo to do the same.
“My ladies,” Rhodry said. “May I present Jahdo to you?