Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [47]
“Just so.” Braemys turned solemn. “Our ancestors left the Homeland, didn't they, rather than wear the harness the Rhwmanes had all laid out for them? Do you think I'm not as brave as they?”
“I know naught about you at all.” Maryn had recovered himself and spoke with dignity again. “But you tell the truth about our ancestors.”
“Just so. Will you keep to the terms you gave me, or go back on your sworn word and prevent us from leaving?”
“Never will I go back on my sworn word.” Maryn sounded on the edge of snarling.
“So I've heard, Your Grace, that you're a man with a fine sense of honor.” All at once Braemys tossed his head back and laughed. “I gambled on that, didn't I?”
“Just so,” Maryn snapped. “And you've won.”
“My thanks.” Braemys made him a half bow from the saddle. “There remain, Your Grace, the terms of my clan's withdrawal. Shall we have our heralds and councillors discuss them?”
“By all means, my lord, by all means.”
The terms took another full day of negotiations, but in the end things worked out thusly. Gwerbret Ammerwdd with his warband and his direct vassals with their warbands would escort Braemys and his followers north to the border, whilst Maryn and the remainder of his men would push on east. The prince would proclaim Cantrae and the Boar clan lands to be attainted; then he would dispose them upon some loyal vassal of the high king—after Maryn was proclaimed as such. The politicking that winter, Nevyn knew, was going to be nearly as fierce as the battles of the summer, and Maryn agreed.
“We'll fight one war at a time,” Maryn said. “That's all any man can do.”
“Just so,” Nevyn said. “But start weighing every word you speak now. An idle saying can sound like half a promise to a greedy man.”
“Unfortunately, that's true spoken. I'll be as cautious as a cat in a bathhouse.”
One last request made by Braemys was too honorable to be refused. He had men under his command who had been wounded too badly to travel north. Maryn agreed easily that he would add those men to his own and have their wounds tended.
On the morrow, while the heralds finished the last few details of the settlement, Nevyn set out to fetch the Boar clan's wounded. Tieryn Anasyn of the Ram offered to bring his warband along for an escort. They assembled some wagons for the worst injured and some horses for the rest as well as the usual medical supplies. In the sunny morning, they plodded along a path that ran uphill beside a stream. The foam-flecked water gurgled cheerfully around black rocks. The wagons creaked along behind the riders, and now and again one of the teamsters started a song and his fellows joined in. The sense of peace achieved made Nevyn himself smile, though the task ahead wasn't going to be a pleasant one. If the Boar's herald had given them good directions, they would reach the wounded men's camp in a few miles.
“It's honorable of young Braemys,” Anasyn said, “worrying about his wounded this way.”
“It is,” Nevyn said, “and I was glad to see it in the lad.”
“I only wish his honor had taken him off to Cerrgonney before the battle and spared us all such grief.”
“Indeed. Some of the dead are men I mourn for.”
“My heart grieves for my sister, losing her betrothed.”
“So does mine. Branoic's one of the men I was referring to.”
“I thought he might be. I only wish I could have broken the news to her myself, but she's a warrior's daughter. She'll heal.”
“Just so. At least she has her dweomer studies to keep her position at court secure.”
“Oh, I never doubted that it would be.” Anasyn turned in the saddle and smiled at him in a weary sort of way. “If naught else, she could serve the princess as one of her women.”
Nevyn suddenly realized that Anasyn had no idea that his beloved little sister was the prince's mistress. Some men would have rejoiced at the influence this would give them at court, but Anasyn had been raised to treat his womenfolk with scrupulous honor and respect.
“Did you have much chance to talk with Lilli before we left?” Nevyn said.
“I didn't,” Anasyn said. “I rode late to the muster,