The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [83]
“You see him,” she whispered.
“Ye gods!” Branoic swung his head round to look at her. “So do you.”
For a long moment they merely stared at each other, each a little aghast. I don’t know this man, Lilli thought. I thought I knew exactly what he was, but I was wrong!
“Ah well,” Branoic said, and his voice was just barely above a whisper. “Either we’re both daft, or the cursed little things do exist after all.”
“Not daft,” Lilli said. “Does Nevyn know you see them?”
“He doesn’t, and I’ll beg you, my lady, to never let him know. Or anyone else, either.”
“Why not?”
“What do you mean why not?” Branoic turned on the bench and crossed his arms over his chest. “Should be cursed obvious.”
“It isn’t.”
He scowled at her, and then, without any reason that she could see, they both burst out laughing.
“Well, I do understand,” Lilli said. “I shan’t say a word to anyone. I was just teasing you.”
“I’d rather have teasing from you than flattery from any other lass.” All at once he turned solemn. “We’re riding out tomorrow. Will you miss me?”
Because he deserved an honest answer, she considered her feelings while he waited, watching her solemnly.
“I will,” she said at last. “It aches my heart, having someone to fear for, but I do worry about what could happen to you. Please ride back again?”
“If my Wyrd allows it, I will. And you stay safe for me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
For a moment they sat smiling at each other. She thought that he might kiss her, but he rose and bowed instead.
“Shall we walk back, my lady? I’d not have anyone speaking scandal about you.”
“My thanks, but I doubt if they would.” She rose to join him. “I’m not important enough.”
“Well, most likely that’s a blessing, you know.”
“True spoken.”
When he offered her his arm, she slipped hers through it, and they walked together back to the great hall. At the door, however, she heard Nevyn calling her name and turned to see the old man striding toward them. His energy always amazed her; with his white hair and frog-spotted skin he looked ancient in repose, but when he moved, he seemed more vigorous than many a young warrior. She gave Branoic’s arm a pat, then pulled hers free.
“You go on in,” Lilli said. “Nevyn seems to need me for somewhat.”
“Well and good, then, my lady.” Branoic bowed to her. “It’s doubtless best that the noble-born don’t see us together, anyway.”
Nevyn did indeed wish to speak with her, as it turned out. Cautioning secrecy, he escorted her up to her new chamber, where the maids had finished tidying up her things. Lilli sat down on the chair while Nevyn perched on the wide windowsill.
“I need you to put your memory to the test,” Nevyn said. “About your mother.”
“Very well.” Lilli folded her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking.
“I hate to distress you, but this could be extremely important.”
“Oh, I do understand. I just hate thinking about the way—the way she died.”
“No doubt.” Nevyn hesitated, his ice-blue eyes sympathetic. “But did she ever talk with you much about her dweomer workings?”
“At times, my lord, and Brour did let things slip now and then.”
“Good. Did either of them ever mention that she talked with spirits? Or to be precise, one particular spirit, who would have appeared to her as a woman.”
“I don’t think so, although—wait.” Lilli paused, letting her mind wander around an image of her mother, sitting in a candlelit room and speaking. “She did mention once that she had seen a ghost walking these halls, a woman dressed in mourning.”
“Indeed? Go on.”
“Brour remarked that a lot of women had died miserably here, in childbed and suchlike, and my mother laughed and agreed.”
“Laughed?”
“Well, it was one of those ghastly nervous laughs. She didn’t see any humor in it or suchlike. And then she said that mayhap she’d try to find out what the poor restless soul wanted. But that’s all I remember.”
“It may very well be enough. My thanks.” Nevyn rose, glancing at the table and the book lying upon it. “I’d like you to work upon your studies this afternoon.