Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [18]
“True spoken. You shall have them back.” Nevyn hesitated, considering. “Or even—what would you think about staying here and taking the prince's service?”
“Would he have me?”
“If I recommended you.”
Grodyr leaned back and looked out over the great hall. “I served the Boar clan for years,” he said at length.
“Not as I remember it. You served the king's clan, when I first met you, and I'm willing to wager high that you hated the Boars then and hated them even more later.”
“You have sharp eyes.” Grodyr smiled thinly. “Very well. If the prince can forgive me my former service, I'll be glad to have done with all this cursed travelling.”
“I'll speak to him in the morning. There's someone else here, by the by, who might well remember you: Caudyr, your young apprentice who got himself run out by the Boars.”
“Ye gods! Did he end up in the prince's service, too?”
“He did. He's the chirurgeon for the prince's bodyguard, the silver daggers.”
“Ai.” Grodyr shook his head. “How the world changes, eh?”
“It does, it does.” Nevyn rose and held out a hand. “The stairs to my chambers are a bit steep, but come with me. You can wait down at the foot.”
“My thanks.”
As they were making their slow way across the ward, Nevyn saw Lilli walking alone and hailed her. “There's my apprentice,” he said to Grodyr. “We'll just send her up instead.”
Grodyr clasped his stick with both hands and leaned on it while he stared openmouthed at Lilli. “Your apprentice?” he whispered. “Ye gods! That's Lady Lillorigga of the Boar! Apprenticed to a chirurgeon?”
“She's a daughter of the Rams of Hendyr now, and I'm not exactly a chirurgeon.”
Smiling, Lilli trotted over, dropped them a curtsy, then suddenly stared at Grodyr in turn.
“It is me,” the chirurgeon said. “I fear me your cousin Braemys refused me shelter in Dun Cantrae last autumn, and wintering on the roads has left me changed.”
“No doubt it would,” Lilli said. “It saddens my heart to think of Braemys being so miserly. That's not like him.”
“Wasn't miserliness.” Grodyr's voice turned sour. “He accused me of being a poisoner.”
Lilli considered him narrow-eyed.
“It's doubtless a long tale,” Nevyn broke in. “Lilli, up in my chamber are three books of Bardekian medical lore. Would you bring them down? They belong to Grodyr here.”
“I shall, my lord.”
Lilli curtsied again, then trotted off on her errand. Just then Branoic popped out of the back door to the great hall, looked around, made a sketchy bow Nevyn's way, and took out running after her—a good thing, since the books were heavy. Nevyn turned back to Grodyr.
“Tell me somewhat,” Nevyn said. “This business of poisons. Is Lady Merodda mixed up in this?”
“She was, truly,” Grodyr said. “I heard, by the by, that your prince had her hanged. I have to admit that the news didn't ache my heart. Braemys accused me of supplying her with poisons. I did naught of the sort, I assure you.”
“Oh, I believe you. Here, why don't you shelter in the dun tonight? The prince is a generous man and won't begrudge you bread and board whether or not you take his service in the morning. I'd like to hear what you know about Lady Merodda.”
After he left the great hall, Maddyn considered going back to the barracks, then decided to climb up to the outer wall and make his way along the catwalk for some privacy. By then the sun was just setting, and a soft twilight was gathering over the dun. To the east a few stars gleamed against the darkening sky. With the firelight and lantern light flickering at the windows, the central broch looked for those few moments almost inviting. At the top of the wall Maddyn squeezed himself into a crenel and looked out over the hillside below. Near the bottom of the hill little fires bloomed in the encampment where the assembled war-bands sheltered behind the outermost wall. For all its size, Dun Deverry could never have quartered the entire army.
Maddyn's