The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [145]
“Little Lilli seems most unhappy these days,” Elyssa remarked.
“So she does,” Bellyra said. “I suppose I should feel sorry for the poor child.”
“Why? Serves her right, I should think, for sleeping with your husband in the first place.”
“I’m afraid I’ve had thoughts that way myself. But she’s dreadfully young, only a lass, really, and how many women have your strength of character?”
Elyssa shrugged the compliment away. Even some years after the incident it still amazed Bellyra that a woman existed who could resist Maryn. Elyssa had, in fact, sent him away with words so sharp that Maryn had ruefully repeated them to his wife. There will always be one woman I can trust, Bellyra thought. I suppose that’s why he told me, so I’d know what a friend I have.
“Ah well,” Elyssa said at last. “She’ll live through it. She has her silver dagger, anyway.”
“So she does, and Maryn will make him a lord soon enough.”
The two women were sitting alone in the women’s hall. Sunlight streamed in a nearby window and scattered gold across the newly polished floor and the carpets. Bellyra rose and stood in the fugitive warmth.
“Summer’s gone,” Bellyra said. “I wonder how early it snows, this far north.”
“I wonder what real snow will be like. I gather it gets quite deep, not like the scatter we have back home.”
“Back home? Do you miss Cerrmor, Lyss?”
“I do. But it’s certainly interesting, being here in Dun Deverry. You know, it’s odd. All my life I’ve heard about it, but I never quite believed it actually existed. It seemed too unreachable, like the Blessed Isles or suchlike, to be real.”
“I used to feel that way, too.”
“At times you look happy enough to be in the isles. It gladdens my heart to see.”
“My thanks. I am happy, I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
“Things change, Lyss. If I’ve learned one thing in my marriage, it’s that.”
During the day she had her work upon the book, and at night she had Maryn’s attentions again. Bellyra never allowed herself to think he loved her, not in any true sense. She amused him at those times when the kingdom gave him a little leisure—that was all. So long as she stayed mindful of this reality, she could take joy in his company and not ask too much of him or of her life, or so she told herself. The days passed, one after the other, in a calm as hushed as the silver moments before dawn. She refused to let anything break the calm, no matter what she had to ignore to keep it.
On a day when the frost lasted well into the morning despite the sun, messengers rode in from Yvrodur. Gwerbret Ammerwdd sent letters describing in some detail his meetings with the various members of the Council of Electors for the Cerrmor rhan. Prince Maryn summoned Nevyn and Oggyn to his council chamber to discuss them. The stone walls seemed to ooze cold despite the fire blazing in the hearth. Maryn had a servant pull a small table up to the fire and chairs for the three of them as well. Nevyn and Oggyn took turns in reading the letters aloud while Maryn slumped down in his chair and listened with grim intensity.
“So far so good, Your Highness,” Nevyn said at last. “It appears that none of the electors truly objected to young Riddmar.”
“None of them jumped up and down in glee, either.” Maryn picked up one of the letters and waved it vaguely at his councillors. “At least they understand the Eldidd situation.”
“They should,” Nevyn said. “The wars would have been over fifty years ago if there’d only been two claimants for the kingship.”
Oggyn nodded his agreement. He was taking a second look at one letter and doing his best to mimic Nevyn’s silent way of reading, a slow process for him, apparently. At