The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [147]
For some while Bellyra had been unusually tired. Life in Dun Deverry, she reminded herself, was a good bit more difficult than in Dun Cerrmor. The autumn nights felt as cold as full winter did down by the sea. The dark stones and the vast disorder of stairways and towers, paths and unexpected walls, at times seemed half-alive, as if the very dun were a ghost, waiting for its chance to suck life from the living. No doubt she felt tired for all sorts of such reasons. She told herself that daily.
Yet the time inevitably came when she could no longer lie to herself. The first snow arrived on the north wind and fell hard all day, but the wind drove it off again by nightfall. From a window in the women’s hall Bellyra looked up at the stars in an achingly clear sky and saw a fat slice of moon shining in its waxing quarter. I should have had my bleeding before this—and it didn’t come last month as well. She stood gripping the windowsill with both hands and staring at the moon, while the cold night wind swirled around her.
“Your Highness?” Degwa came hurrying over. “Do come away from the window. You’ll get chilled.”
Bellyra nodded and sat down in her chair by the fire, where Lilli and Elyssa sat waiting, Elyssa in her chair, Lilli on a cushion right at the hearth. Degwa hung the oxhide drape back over the window, then dragged a chair over to join them in the dancing light.
“Is somewhat wrong, Your Highness?” Lilli said.
“Oh, naught, naught. I’m a bit distracted, that’s all. I was thinking about my book.”
They were all watching her, all three of her serving women, with such concern that she felt like screaming at them. She leaned her head against the high back of the chair and stared at the ceiling. Spiderwebs heavy with dust hung in a long fringe from the oak beams.
“My lady?” Elyssa said. “Somewhat’s wrong. Please tell us.”
“I think I’m with child again. Or wait, that’s not true. I know I’m with child. I can feel it, I’ve missed two bleedings, and ah Goddess, how I hate this.”
They all spoke at once in soft voices, reassurances and little flatteries. It would be better this time, they would all be there to help, her lord would be so happy at another heir—
“Please don’t!” Bellyra snapped. “Please don’t lie to me!”
The voices stopped. The spiderwebs waved like grey plumes, back and forth. In her view Elyssa appeared, leaning over her chair.
“Well, of course it’s going to be awful,” Elyssa said calmly. “But this time we won’t just stand around and hope for the best like half-wits. We’ll be ready to ward it off.”
“The madness, I suppose you mean?”
“Just that. If it happens.”
Bellyra felt her cold hands start shaking. She rubbed them together and berated herself for demanding honesty.
“It might not, Your Highness,” Degwa said. “Each time’s different, or so they say.”
By the fire Lilli sat crouched on her cushion. Like a cat, Bellyra thought, a cat when she sees prey. She leaned forward in her chair.
“Maryn’s going to run right back to you,” Bellyra said. “I suppose you realize that.”
Lilli threw her head back and went stiff—more like the prey than the cat, all of a sudden. With one smooth motion Elyssa knelt beside Bellyra’s chair and laid a hand on her arm.
“My lady,” Elyssa said. “Please! Think well on your words.”
Bellyra knew that she was right, but Lilli looked so pretty, so young there on her cushion, all wide eyes and gold hair—no wonder Maryn’s fascinated with her, Bellyra thought, her and her slender little waist!
“Is this what you’ve been hoping for?” Bellyra got up and took a step toward the girl. “He’ll desert my bed, you know. He did the last two times. And there you are, waiting for him. Well, aren’t you?”
Lilli scrambled up, her mouth working, her face glistening with tears. For a brief moment Bellyra felt as if the scene had turned to a painted design such as a scribe puts in the margin of a book. She could see them all clearly in the firelight: Elyssa kneeling beside her, one hand raised; Degwa with her hands clasped over her mouth; Lilli, weeping with the firelight