The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [106]
In the afternoon they went out for their usual walk, but this time he told her to lead the horse a little farther into the forest, where there was a tiny stream bordered by ferns that he wanted her to see. After she watered his gray, Jill dutifully admired the ferns, then sat down next to him in the cool shade.
“We should be getting news of the army soon,” he remarked. “If there was a battle, they’d send messages.”
“Let’s pray they’re on their way home, and without another army chasing them.”
“True-spoken. Though … ah, er, oh, well …”
Jill waited patiently while he collected his thoughts. She was beginning to get used to his lapses.
“Er, ah, it’s been splendid sitting out in the woods with you. No doubt we won’t be able to when Rhodry rides home.”
“Of course not. Rhodry can turn rotten jealous, even though he’s got no reason to be.”
“Oh. Er, ah, he doesn’t have any reason to be?”
“None, my lord.”
She went on guard, waiting to see how he would take her firm dismissal. For a moment, he considered the ferns sadly.
“None, is it?” he said at last. “Truly?”
He turned his head and smiled at her, a peculiar sort of smile, open and intense, that seemed to reach out and wrap round, troubling her will with a warmth as palpable as a touch of a hand. When she wrenched her eyes away, he laid a gentle hand on her cheek. She twisted away and knocked his hand off, but he smiled again in a way that made him seem to glow. She stared at him, because for a moment she was incapable of moving. When he kissed her, his mouth was soft, gentle, but sensual with a thousand promises.
“You truly are beautiful,” he whispered.
With a wrench of will, she shoved him away.
“Now, here,” she snapped. “There can’t be any more of this between us.”
“And why not?”
His smile was so disturbing that Jill scrambled up and stepped back as if he were an enemy with a sword. He made no effort to follow, merely watched her with his head tilted in a childlike, questioning way. When she stepped back a few more feet, she felt the spell break.
“I’m going back to the dun,” she snarled. “Obviously you’ve got the strength to ride back alone.”
As she jogged back to the dun, she was debating the problem. He can’t be dweomer—he must be dweomer—where would he even have learned it—but what else could that be? Now that she was away from him, the incident was oddly blurred in her mind, as if it had never truly been registered in her rational memory. She decided that, dweomer or not, she was going to avoid being alone with Perryn from now on. When he returned, late in the afternoon, she saw him from across the great hall. He was so bland, so vague and awkward, that she found herself wondering if she’d dreamt the incident by the stream.
Hunkered down in the middle of the field, the lords were parleying, Aegwyc with ten of his men for an escort, Graemyn with ten of his, one of whom was Rhodry. Since he was the man who’d killed Aegwyc’s brother, he had to be there to admit it if the lord demanded. He profoundly hoped that he wouldn’t, even though Graemyn assured him that he would pay the lwdd himself. So far, Graemyn had had little chance to say anything, because Benoic was doing most of the talking.
“So it’s settled, then?” Benoic said at last.
“It is.” Aegwyc sounded very tired. “I’ll abide by the high king’s arbitration—provided I feel it’s fairly run.”
“And I’ll do the same,” Graemyn broke in before Benoic could agree for him. “I swear it on the honor of my clan.”
“And I on mine.” With a sigh, Aegwyc rose, staring past them to the full army. Rhodry supposed that he was counting up the odds against the few men he could muster. “Send me a herald when the king’s men arrive.”
“I will.” Benoic got to his feet and waved the rest of the men up. “You have my hand on that.”
Solemnly they shook hands. For a moment Aegwyc lingered, looking over the ten men around the tieryn. He would know that one of them had to be his brother’s killer, and he looked