Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [51]
“From Nevyn, my lady,” Maddyn said.
“My thanks.” Bellyra took the message, slid it halfway out of the tube, then slid it back. “I'd hoped for a word from my husband.”
Maddyn winced. “He was much distracted, Your Highness. The battle wasn't long over.”
“I see.” She glanced at Elyssa. “You know, I feel rather faint.” In a rustle of crisp linen she sat down on the step directly above him. “But I want to hear what Maddyn can tell me about the prince. Is he truly well?”
“He is, my lady. Victory becomes any man.”
“The messengers told me about Braemys's withdrawal. I'm so glad there was but the one battle, but they also told me Maryn's going to be chasing down bandits or suchlike.”
“Oh, he'll ride home before that campaign, Your Highness. He needs to claim the kingship as soon as he secures Cantrae.”
“Ah. That's somewhat to hope for, then. I'll send letters back with you.”
Bellyra stared down at her hands, lying in her lap. When Maddyn looked at Elyssa, he found her pointedly looking elsewhere.
“My heart aches to leave you again,” he whispered.
Bellyra managed a smile. “I wish you weren't leaving, but the messages—”
“Anyone can carry those. If you want me here, I'll stay. Owaen will be glad to have me gone.”
“And what about our prince?”
Maddyn hesitated, searching for words. “Ah well,” he said at last. “He gave me leave to stay here, you see, should I want to.”
“Why?” Bellyra looked up, her eyes anger-bright. “To comfort his little mistress if she needed it?”
Maddyn winced again.
“So I thought.” Bellyra's voice trembled. “I'll just steal a little happiness for myself, then, out of his ever-so-generous gift to her. Do stay, Maddo. I'll be glad of your company.”
“I will, then.”
She smiled, just faintly, then scrambled up and turned to Elyssa with a wave of the letter she held.
“No doubt Nevyn will want a reply,” the princess said. “I'll read this and compose an answer.”
“Very well, Your Highness,” Elyssa said. “The men from the escort can carry it back.”
Maddyn stayed kneeling until they'd climbed the stairs and gone. For so many years, through so many dangers, his loyalty to Prince Maryn had shaped his life—his heart and soul, really. It was odd to think that a woman's unhappiness had destroyed it.
After the parley with Braemys, Prince Maryn and Gwerbret Ammerwdd sent some of their weaker vassals home to tend to their own affairs, then divided the remaining forces between them. Maryn ended up with some eight hundred men—his silver daggers, several of the northern lords including Nantyn and his men, the riders due him as Gwerbret Cerrmor, and half the Cerrmor spearmen. With their much-reduced numbers, they could now make better speed, some eighteen miles a day on the flat, though hilly country would take its toll on the wagons when they reached it. The messengers sent by Princess Bellyra caught up with the prince some ten miles east of Glasloc, half a day's march from the lands belonging to the Boar clan.
The army had camped in a stretch of fallow fields just at the edge of a straggling forest. With a few hours of sunlight left in the day, Nevyn took a cloth sack and his digging tools and walked into the young trees to look for herbs, but he found mostly weeds and brambles. In the shade of a few of the larger trees he did see young bracken pushing their curled shoots through the green-covered ground. The land had been cleared once, he supposed, then allowed to go wild again, doubtless as a result of the war. About a quarter mile into the second growth, he found proof of his theory in the form of a remnant of low stone wall, overgrown with mosses.
Beyond stood the last remnant of the wild forest that had covered the entire area back when Nevyn had been young and a prince himself. As he leaned onto the top of the wall and contemplated the ancient oaks, he realized exactly where he must be. Within that forest lay the cairn that marked Brangwen's grave. He'd seen it last some twenty years ago, though he'd approached it from the other side.