Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [169]
“I do think the most of our folk have cast their markers,” Verrarc said. “Good. When the last be done, we'll be moving into the shelter of the Council House to count them, and the rain will be of no import.”
Rhodry had spent the day guarding Carra and her child. Early on the princess had grown weary of the stark Council House and the plaza. For a while they visited with Jahdo's mother and her sister, Sirri, the town midwife, until the talk of babies in general and Elessario in particular made Rhodry wonder if men truly could die of boredom. Fortunately for him, both older women had work to attend to, and about midafternoon he escorted Carra back to the elven camp on the lakeshore. Vantalaber, the pale-haired captain of the archers, came hurrying to meet them.
“I kept a watch on the gates,” Val said. “Raena and her swinish rakzan came through around noon.”
“Did she now?” Rhodry laughed, a hard berserker howl that made Val wince. “I'm looking forward to tonight. Things may turn interesting.”
While Carra and the child rested inside the royal tent, Rhodry sat outside the door with Lightning, Carra's dog, for a second guard. The dog slept and Rhodry drowsed, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but neither Raena nor Horsekin came near. Toward sunset Carra carried the baby outside and told him she'd decided to rejoin her husband up on the public square.
“The citizens ought to be all done soon,” Carra said. “I want to see how the council members count the markers out.”
“With tally marks, I suppose,” Rhodry said.
“No doubt, but that's not what I meant.” Her pretty little face had gone thoughtful. “I wonder if they count big lots in twenties, as we do, or in twelves.”
“Twelves? Who would do that?”
“Farmers and suchlike do it all the time. I've always thought that they must have preserved the ancient customs of their ancestors, who were bondfolk, you see, or truly I mean, the people our ancestors turned into bondfolk. And now I've got a chance to find out. If Cerr Cawnen uses twelves, then I'll know that such was the original way of counting in this country.”
Rhodry managed to smile, but he was wondering if she were a bit daft, to trouble herself over such things.
They found a coracle, and he paddled them across the lake under a dark sky. Sylphs emerged from the water, pale blue and green, stretching out slender hands as they crowded around the boat. At the sight Elessi gurgled and flapped her chubby hands in their direction.
“Oh, now, what is it?” Carra said. “There's naught there.”
Elessi ignored her and made the little panting sound of a baby just learning to laugh. One bold sylph leaned into the boat and touched a wisp of her golden hair. A drop of water ran down her chubby forehead.
“Ah!” Carra said. “It must be starting to rain. A drop fell on Elessi.”
Rhodry smiled and said nothing. In a few moments the sylphs dove back into the lake and disappeared, melding again with the water. Just as they reached the island, however, a few drops of real rain spattered on Citadel's narrow shore.
“We'd best hurry,” Rhodry said. “The storm's going to break, I'll wager.”
The rain held off for a while more. Rhodry carried the baby as they climbed the steep path to the plaza, and Lightning trotted ahead, tail held high and wagging. When they reached the top, Kiel, still in his militia armor, hurried over to meet them. Only a few townsfolk still waited near the booths. At the public well, Daralanteriel, Dallandra, and Zatcheka stood talking together.
“Rori,” Kiel said. “I'll have to ask you for that sword.” “Right you are.” Rhodry handed the baby back to Carra. “My apologies. I'm as used to its weight as most men are to their brigga, I suppose.” He unbuckled his belt, slid the scabbard off, and handed it to Kiel. “Take good care of that, will you?”
“I'll give it to Dallandra to carry for you.” Carra had kept