The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [93]
“My thanks. Your silence on this matter is absolutely necessary until your councillors find a solution.”
“That I can promise you.”
“Splendid! And my thanks yet once again.”
Maryn crossed to a window and stood staring out at the night whilst Oggyn, with Nevyn’s help, gathered up his parchments. They let themselves out, shut the heavy door carefully, and stood staring at each other by the light of Nevyn’s lantern.
“Stubborn mule of a man!” Nevyn whispered. “I wish he were still a lad so I could give him a good clout. Knock some sense into him!”
“But he’s not.” Oggyn too kept his voice barely audible. “Shall we retire and discuss this further?”
To spare Oggyn the stairs they went to the quarters he, as chamberlain, had assigned himself, a pair of large rooms that during the day would be sunny and cheerful. During the leisurely sack of the dun after the siege, Oggyn had acquired some of the best chairs, the newest cushions, and a selection of tapestries that were if not splendid then at least less threadbare than most. On his mantel sat a small silver wyvern and a silver flagon. He dumped his parchments onto a long oak table banded with delicate carving, then took Nevyn’s candle and trotted around, lighting more in their silver sconces.
“May I offer you mead?” Oggyn said when he was done.
“None for me, but my thanks. I need to think.”
“True.” Oggyn sat down in a chair opposite him. “I see no use in trying to hide my deep disappointment in our prince’s opinion.”
“I see none either. Ye gods!”
“We’re at such a critical juncture of the war. If we could only keep the problem at bay till Maryn’s brought Braemys to heel!”
“Well, he remains Gwerbret Cerrmor till the priests declare him king.”
“A most excellent point! But afterwards—”
“Indeed. Let me think on this. There has to be a solution.”
“I hope to every god that you come up with it, whatever it may be.”
“Until then, no one else had better learn of this situation.”
“Just so. You can count on my silence.” Oggyn rose and began tidying his parchments. “But if the prince sees this as a matter of honor, then he’ll start his reign so heavily indebted that he’ll be king in name only.”
On the morrow morning, the prince’s vassals, released from their summer’s service to their liege lord, assembled their men and broke camp, heading for their own lands. Lilli sat in her tower window and watched as one after the other the lords knelt before Maryn to promise him their prompt return, either in the spring or in his great need, whichever came the sooner. By then Lilli saw the Wildfolk as easily as she saw objects on the physical plane, and she studied them as the spirits swarmed around the prince and lent him their energies to augment his own. They supplied the brightness in the air, the private breeze that ruffled his hair, the spring in his walk, even. The Wildfolk of Aethyr swelled his aura to an enormous golden cloud, a crackling globe of sheer astral force that enlivened everyone who came in contact with it.
Lilli had to admit that she understood now what Nevyn had meant. Maryn’s unnatural allure did lie in the dweomers his councillor worked. She also realized that the admitting had brought her to the edge of tears.
“Oh stop it!” she told herself. “You’ve got more important things to do, anyway, than daydreaming about Prince Maryn.”
Tieryn Anasyn, her true brother now, was among the last to leave Dun Deverry. All of the northern lords who’d come over to Maryn the summer past were leaving behind some of their men—technically an extra levy for the prince’s fortguard, but in actuality hostages of a sort. Lilli waited down in the ward while Anasyn commended ten of his best riders to the prince’s care. Abrwnna was already mounted on her palfrey at the head of her husband’s warband. Seeing her there, the new lady of Hendyr, made Lilli weep. Her sister-in-law’s position was the final, irrevocable sign that Lady Bevyan lay dead, that never again would she preside in Hendyr’s great hall.
Anasyn came hurrying over and flung one arm around Lilli’s shoulders.
“Here, here,” he