The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [108]
During the wait, Perryn stalked Jill, but from a wary distance, always watching for those rare times when Rhodry left her alone. The moments were hard to catch, because she was doing her best to avoid him. Since she was the first woman who’d ever resisted his strange appeal, he was puzzled, but the resistance only made her the more desirable. Finally his chance came to make his move. At sunset on the tenth day, Graemyn’s courier returned with the news that the king would most graciously take this matter under his regal judgment. In fact, a herald and a legal councillor were coming directly behind him on the road.
“Splendid!” Benoic said. “Now, here, Graemyn, you’ve got to send an honor guard along to meet them.”
“I was just about to say exactly that. If one of my noble allies would care to take his warband on this errand, I’d be most grateful.”
Perryn shot Nedd a pointed glance. Nedd sighed.
“I’ll do it gladly, Your Grace,” Nedd said. “I have six men left as well as my silver dagger. Will that be the proper size for the escort?”
“Exactly right. If the warband’s too large, Aegwyc might claim intimidation. My thanks, Lord Nedd.”
Nedd scowled Perryn’s way with a face as sour as if he’d bitten into a Bardek citron. Perryn merely smiled in return.
“Well, my love, we’ll be riding out at dawn.”
Jill went cold with fear.
“Oh here, what’s so wrong?” Rhodry went on. “We won’t be in the slightest danger.”
“I know.” She found it very hard to speak. “It’s just that we’ve been apart so much.”
“I know, but I’ve got plenty of battle loot, and the reward from Tieryn Graemyn, so once this hire’s over, we’ll settle into a decent inn for a while.”
With a nod, she turned away, tempted to tell him the truth, that she was afraid of being left in the same dun as Perryn, but the truth might lead to bloodshed. Although she would have been pleased by the sight of Perryn lying dead, his kin would only cut Rhodry down in turn. He put his arms around her and drew her close.
“I’ll be back soon, my love.”
“I hope so.” She reached up and kissed him. “Rhoddo, oh, Rhoddo, I love you more than I love my life.”
As it turned out, the warband left a good hour after dawn, because Nedd and his men could never leave a place simply and easily. When they were finally on their way, Jill stood at the gates for a long time, wishing she could ride with them, feeling the dweomer cold run down her back in warning. When she turned back, she found Perryn watching her. She brushed past him without so much as a “good morrow” and hurried to the safe company of Lady Camma and her serving women. All day she avoided him, and that night, she barred her chamber door from the inside.
On the morrow, however, Perryn caught her alone. Jill had gone down to the stables to tend Sunrise, as she never left him to the slipshod attentions of stableboys. She was just leading him back to his clean stall when Perryn strolled over.
“Good morrow,” he said. “I was thinking of going riding. Won’t you come with me?”
“I won’t, my lord.”
“Please don’t call me ‘lord’ all the time.”
Then he smiled his warm bewitchment, coiling round her heart.
“I love you, Jill.”
“I don’t give a pig’s fart. Leave me alone!”
When she stepped back, she found herself against the stall door. With another smile, he laid his hand on her cheek, a touch that flooded her with warmth. Dweomer, she thought, it has to be dweomer. When he kissed her, she knew in a nightmarish way that she was weakening, that she was sorely tempted to betray Rhodry for this skinny, daft, nondescript man.
“We could ride into the meadow,” he whispered. “It’s lovely out in the sun.”
His words—the very rational act of speaking—broke the spell. She shoved him so hard that he nearly fell and twisted free.