The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [89]
Just behind the banners she could make out Prince Maryn, riding unhelmed, with his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. Her heart pounded just at this distant sight of him, but then she spotted Nevyn, riding alongside like a warning. Behind them came the silver daggers. Even in the middle of the troop Branoic stood out because of his height. She realized that he was looking up, studying the windows above him as if he were hoping to see a particular someone. As the troop filed into the main ward, she leaned out a little farther.
“Branoic!” she called out. “Branno!”
With a laugh he waved at her, and she waved back. Perhaps the prince would notice and realize that she wasn’t lacking in suitors. She left the window and hurried down to the main ward, a thundering confusion of men and horses. It took her some while to make her way across. In the great hall Nevyn was nowhere to be seen, but a page had heard him remark that he was going to his chamber.
“More stairs!” Lilli said. “I don’t know why he had to pick the highest chamber in the whole wretched palace!”
By the time she reached his door, Lilli was gasping for breath. Nevyn opened it before she knocked, and ushered her in.
“Sit down,” he said. “It gladdens my heart to see you, but there was no need to run all the way here.”
“I didn’t,” Lilli gasped. “Took my time.”
She sat on the offered chair and let herself simply breathe. Nevyn cocked his head to one side and considered her with eyes that seemed oddly out of focus. After a moment he glanced away, back to normal.
“This illness is beginning to worry me,” Nevyn said.
“But I’ve not been ill.”
“You may not have been aware of it, but you were and are. I’m glad I’m back.”
“Well, so am I. Which reminds me.” Lilli reached into her kirtle and brought out a silver message tube. “While you were gone, my lord, a messenger brought you a letter from the princess’s women.” Lilli handed it over. “He gave it to me for safekeeping.”
“My thanks.” Nevyn cracked the wax seal and slid the rolled parchment out. “I hope this isn’t the news I’ve been dreading.”
Yet on the outermost bit of the roll Lilli saw the words, “a return of her old trouble.” Swearing under his breath, Nevyn smoothed the parchment out and read it silently—a great marvel in those days, for someone to read without speaking each word to hear its meaning.
“Bad news indeed,” Nevyn said at last. “It’s the madness again. From childbirth, I mean—her mother was prone to this as well, from what the servants told me. It’s a terrible sadness that overwhelms her rational faculties. Have you ever seen this disease?”
“I have,” Lilli said. “One of the women here in the dun got that way with her first baby. Bevva told me it was vapors from the womb.”
“Precisely. In time they dissipate of their own accord, and a good thing, too, because I’ve never found the cure, not in books nor from midwives.”
“Will we go back to Cerrmor to care for her?”
“I don’t know. It depends on when the prince summons her here.”
“Of course. I’d forgotten that.”
Lilli knew that he was studying her, waiting to see how she would take the news that Bellyra would someday join her husband. Lilli got up, casually she hoped, and began to straighten the clutter on his table—parchments, dirty cups, magical diagrams, little cloth sacks of herbs, and books, all jumbled together.
“Naught else of import happened while you were gone,” she said. She was pleased that her voice sounded steady. “I was ever so glad to see Branoic safe.”
“Good. We had entirely too much excitement one night, but doubtless he’ll want to tell you about it himself. He saved the prince’s life.”
“He did? How splendid!”
“It was. Tell me somewhat, Lilli. Did you know Braemys well?”
“I did when he was a child, but once he went back to his father I barely saw him.”
“I see. When he was a lad, did he impress people as being quite clever?”
“Oh, he did, truly. I remember him beating everyone