Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [21]
After the meal Lilli went up to Nevyn's tower room, where she discovered that the delay in confirming Maryn's kingship was preying upon her master's mind as well. Nevyn delivered himself of a few choice oaths on the subject before explaining.
“They have their reason all polished and ready, of course. The lack of the proper white mare for the rites. Huh. Let Maryn win the summer's war, and white mares will doubtless pop up all over the landscape.”
“There's somewhat I don't understand,” Lilli said. “Does great Bel really care about the color of Maryn's horse? Would we really be cursed if he rode a grey mare in the procession?”
“Of course not. But the lords and the priests and perhaps even the common folk would believe that he was cursed, and they'd look at him with different eyes. And Maryn himself—he's as pious as any great lord is, which is to say, as pious as the times are hard, but he truly does believe that the gods have power over him. If he thought himself cursed, wouldn't he doubt his judgment and his luck?”
“I see. And he might do a reckless thing, or shrink back from a fight, and his men would think he'd lost his dweomer luck.”
“Exactly. And they've followed him for many a long year now, through famine and battle, mostly because they believe in his luck and the gods both.”
Lilli considered this while the old man watched her from his seat on the windowsill. “But then,” she said finally, “the gods don't truly care what happens to their worshippers. Is that what you mean?”
“Close enough. In time, I'll tell you a great deal more about the gods—this autumn, when we have more leisure. But for now, remember that the gods want homage and little else from their ordinary worshippers. Does the high king care about each and every man who tends his fields? Not so long as that man hands over his taxes and dues.”
“That makes the gods seem so cold, though, and so very far away.”
“They are. Think well on this. Which you'll have plenty of time to do once I've gone with the prince.”
“Anasyn was the last lord to ride in, wasn't he?” Lilli felt her heart turn over. “You'll all be marching on the morrow.”
“I'm afraid so.” Nevyn glanced away, abruptly sad. “And may the gods all grant that this summer sees the end of it.”
As she walked down the stairs of Nevyn's tower, Lilli was thinking of Branoic. Although she wanted to say farewell to him, her rank kept her from going to a place as lowly as the silver daggers' barracks. She stepped inside the great hall, stood in the doorway on the riders' side, and tried to catch the attention of one of the servant lasses, who would be glad to carry a message for her in return for a copper. In the smoky room, crammed with fighting men of every rank, the lasses were trotting back and forth, bringing ale, serving bread, dodging the men's wandering hands, and answering back as smartly as they could to the various remarks they were getting. Lilli found herself thinking that she was as lucky as Prince Maryn. The summer past, her clan had been destroyed, and she herself might have ended up carrying slops in some lord's hall had it not been for Princess Bellyra's generosity.
“Lilli?” A dark voice sounded behind her.
With a little shriek Lilli spun around to find Branoic grinning at her.
“I didn't mean to scare you out of your skin,” he said. “I got one of my feelings, like, that mayhap you wanted to talk with me.”
“I do.” She managed a laugh. “I was just remembering last summer. It seems like a twenty's worth of years ago, not just one.”
“The best summer of my life, it was.”
“Truly? Why?”
“You silly goose!” Branoic was grinning at her. “Because I met you, of course.”
“I don't deserve you, I truly don't.”
“Spare me that, if you please.” Branoic reached out and engulfed her small soft hands with his, all battle-hard and callused. “If our prince objects to my kissing my betrothed farewell, then bad cess to him.”
Clasped tight in his arms she felt safe, as if his embrace could shut out the entire war-torn world around them. Oh dear