Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [68]
“But the humiliation—”
“Maybe it will teach her to watch herself better.” Maryn's face flushed white, then red. “Running about the ward at night, ye gods! Most likely she was just going to find one of her cursed inscriptions or suchlike, but she should have considered what people would think of it. By all the gods, she's going to be queen! Now go fetch those pages! I'm not going to stand here and argue about it any longer.”
Outside the gathering clouds of a summer storm began to darken the afternoon, but Bellyra felt the first small signs that her birthing madness might be leaving her. For the first time in several months, she found herself thinking about the history of the royal dun. The pages of her book-to-be lay on a table by the window, where she'd left them on the day she went into labor. Elyssa had been dusting them daily and straightening the heap of cut parchments.
“You know, Lyss,” Bellyra said. “I'm thinking I might read over what I've written so far.”
“Splendid!” Elyssa said. “Shall I fetch the pages?”
Before Bellyra could answer, the door banged open, and Nevyn strode in. She had never seen him or any man so angry, his head thrown a little back, his face dead-white with rage, his eyes snapping. It seemed that he exuded rage the way melted iron exudes heat, trembling the air around him.
“My lady,” Nevyn snarled. “Your husband is the biggest fool in the whole wide kingdom of Deverry. Brace yourself and remember that I'm on your side in this.”
Elyssa gasped, rising from her chair. Bellyra felt her heart start to flutter like a trapped bird. She laid a hand on her throat.
“In what?” she managed to say. “Nevyn, what do you mean?”
“That idiot Oggyn has made your husband suspicious of you. He claims that Maddyn the bard is entirely too fond of you.” Nevyn paused, visibly calming himself. “What's this about one night when your women couldn't find you?”
“Oh that!” Bellyra rose, smoothing down her dresses. She found it surprisingly easy to tell a half-truth. “I couldn't sleep. I went to Otho's forge to watch him make a little gift for Maryn. I want to give him somewhat when he becomes king. I'd found Otho the silver, you see, and I gave him a pair of red stones from my mother's legacy. I didn't tell anyone because Degwa would have let it slip, and I wanted it to be a surprise. Is Maryn on the way here?”
Nevyn growled, so doglike and fierce that she stepped back.
“He's not,” Nevyn said at last. “He's commanding you to come down to the great hall and explain yourself in front of everyone.”
For a moment Bellyra was afraid that she would faint. The room seemed to have grown very large, and herself very small. The light turned painfully bright and harsh. Elyssa sprang forward, caught her arm in one hand, and slipped her other arm around her shoulders to steady her.
“I'm all right,” Bellyra whispered. “But how could he shame me this way?”
“Just so,” Nevyn said. “That's why I'm calling him a fool.”
Elyssa muttered something foul enough for a silver dagger. “My lady,” she said to Bellyra, “we'll put on your best dresses, and I'll do your hair as well, so he can see what a beautiful wife he's slandering.”
Bellyra looked down at the dress she was wearing and ran her fingers over linen stained and shiny with age. “We shan't,” she said. “I cannot bear to wait that long. I'll go as I am, bare feet and all. It's good enough for a suppliant.”
The door to the inner chamber opened, and Degwa came out, white and shaking on the edge of tears. “Your Highness,” she blurted. “Forgive me! I never thought Oggyn would repeat—”
“You don't think, Decci!” Elyssa snapped. “That's your whole trouble in life, inn't? You just don't think!”
Degwa started to answer, then merely snivelled.
“Redeem yourself,” Nevyn snarled. “Go find Otho the smith and bring him to the great hall.”
“The silver daggers' smith? I can't go mucking about the ward looking for a smith.”
“You can and you will, you empty-headed little dolt!” Nevyn took one step toward her. “And you will do it now.”
Degwa shrieked and