Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [32]
“No doubt. But it's not just the princess. Sometimes I want naught more than to get free of Maryn.”
Elyssa made an odd little gasp—out of surprise, Lilli assumed.
“Lyss, I feel like I've got a fever, and it's burning me up. No doubt if I had to go to Cerrmor I'd weep and carry on for days, but then I could recover.”
“I see.” Elyssa studied her for a long moment. “You truly mean that, don't you? You know, the prince is not a man to force himself upon a woman who refuses him.”
“I know that. It's just when I see him, I can't think of anything but him. It's horrid, actually.”
“It must be, at that.” Elyssa considered for a moment. “Would you like to see the princess?”
“I would, truly. How is she?”
“Much the same. Every little thing makes her weep, and she's so tired, so tired. Not even her needlework distracts her, and she's not been able to put one word into her book. A visit might cheer her a bit.”
They went inside and climbed the staircase up to the women's hall, but Degwa met them at the door and motioned for silence.
“She's sleeping,” Degwa whispered. “At last, and I'd not wake her.”
“Of course not,” Elyssa said. “Lilli can come again later.”
Degwa stepped out and shut the door to the hall behind her. For a moment they all stood together out in the corridor. Degwa cocked her head to one side and considered Lilli with a nasty little smile.
“I gather,” Degwa said, “that you have a brooch that once belonged to me.”
Elyssa waved a hand and made a little clucking sound, which Degwa ignored.
“I do,” Lilli said. “But you may have it back, if you'd like. I took it only because I thought you didn't want it.”
“Well, I don't, at that.” Degwa held her head high in the air. “The Boar's leavings should go to a Boar, no doubt.”
Degwa stomped off, her wooden clogs loud on the stone floor, and hurried down the staircase. Elyssa rolled her eyes to the heavens.
“Ye gods!” Elyssa whispered. “My apologies, Lilli.”
“There's no need for you to apologize. Ah well, Decci is what she is, and that's true for all of us.”
When she returned to her chamber, Lilli opened her wooden chest and found the brooch that had once been her mother's. She sat down in her chair and held the silver knot up, letting it catch the sunlight. Why was she keeping it? she wondered. Her mother—a murderess, a sorceress who had used Lilli's own gifts ruthlessly for the clan's advantage. And yet Merodda had put out considerable effort to save Lilli from a horrible marriage; at times she had been kind as well, for no reason other than that Lilli was her daughter. A token for those good things, Lilli decided. That's why I keep it.
Thinking of her blood-kin made Lilli remember Braemys, her cousin, her half brother, and once, too, her betrothed. Dark thoughts gathered, that he was likely to die in the coming fighting. But what if he won the battle? What if Maryn were killed instead? One or the other of them would have to die to settle the feud between them. Deverry men always settled feuds that way, with the death of one or the other. With the brooch clasped tight in one hand, she rose and walked to the window. Outside the sky blazed with gold light, streaked with pink and orange against the darkening blue.
“Dear Goddess,” Lilli whispered. “Let Maryn be the victor. I beg you.”
And she wondered if she would ever get free of him.
Just at sunset the scouting parties returned to Maryn's camp. Armed with Nevyn's report, Maryn had sent Branoic with some of the silver daggers to the southeast, while a squad from Daeryc's men had ridden straight east. Neither party had seen either half of Braemys's army, which meant that the enemy was, most likely, making camp for the night.
“I'll wager they march here tomorrow, Your Highness,” Branoic said. “This Braemys—he's young, but he's got a good head on his shoulders.”
“So your betrothed told me once,” Maryn said. “She knew him well, after all.”
“I take it His Highness discussed the matter with her?”
“I did, truly. Why wouldn't I?”
Branoic said nothing more, but his slight