Days of Blood and Fire - Katharine Kerr [63]
So Jill was forced to stay fairly close to Cengarn on her night hunts — She could travel farther in this form than she could as the hawk, but not truly far enough for her tastes— some hundred miles in any one direction, a good five days’ ride for a raiding party, and a fair warning, certainly, compared to none at all, provided of course that she’d chosen the right direction in the first place. But always she was mindful that any new lot of raiders would have dweomer with them, powerful dweomer, no doubt, from a system alien to her. She simply didn’t know what this other mazrak might or might not be able to do, though she doubted that the ability to hide an entire army would be among his or her powers.
At about the same time that Dallandra and Evandar were returning to the riverbank—though in their world only a few hours had passed—Jill decided that four days of futile effort were enough. First she had the pages bring up hot water for a bath, so she could change her clothes and make herself presentable; then she went down into the great hall to confer with Gwerbret Cadmar. As she was leaving the side broch, she saw Jahdo watching the kitchen boys kick a leather ball back and forth over the cobbles. When she hailed him, Jahdo came over, but she could see how frightened of her he was.
“How come you’re not joining in the game?” she said.
“They won’t let me. Alli won’t let them let me.”
“Oh. He is a little snot, isn’t he?”
Jahdo merely shrugged, misery graved on his face.
“I’ll have a word with the lad, if you’d like.”
“Well, my thanks, my lady, but that’ll only make it worse. Rhodry says I should call you my lady, by the way. Be that right?”
“It is, though I doubt if our arrogant Allonry considers me one.”
“I don’t suppose you could turn Alli into a frog, could you? Just for a little while, like?”
Jill laughed.
“I’m afraid I can’t, Jahdo lad, though I’ll admit that the sight of him hopping round would bring us all a good laugh. But here, other than our puffed-up lordling, have you and Meer been well treated? It’s important to me, you know, and I left orders to that effect.”
“We have, truly,”
“Good. Run an errand for me, will you? Go fend Rhodry for me, and tell him I’ve come down from the tower.”
“I will.” Jahdo brightened up considerably. “You know, I did hate him when he captured us, but now I kind of like Rhodry. He can’t have done anything that dishonorable. Just because he be a silver dagger, I mean.”
“Well, actually he didn’t, but I don’t dare tell you more. He’d be in a temper over it, if I did.”
“Oh, well, now, I wouldn’t want that.”
Jahdo trotted off on his errand, and Jill went inside the great hall. At the dragon hearth of honor the gwerbret was sitting with his lords, while nearby the bard and Meer sat together, a harp between them, and discussed how it was played in low voices, so as not to disturb the noble-born. Jill was honestly surprised at how easily the Gel da’Thae and his boy had fitted into the life of the dun—until she remembered that they’d had days to do so, while she’d been shut up working. She still didn’t want Meer going into the town, though, where the citizens would have no way of knowing that he was under the gwerbret’s direct protection, and she made a mental note to tell him to stay away from it. At her approach the gwerbret rose, calling for a chair, and Matyc and Gwinardd inclined their heads in her direction. Jill made an impersonal