The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [111]
“Ye gods,” he said feebly. “I should have made the men put on clean shirts.”
The two parties met in the road. When Nedd announced himself, the herald, a blond young man with a long upper lip made longer by pride, looked him over for a moment stretched to the limit of courtesy.
“My humble thanks for the honor, Your Lordship,” he said at last. “It gladdens my heart that Tieryn Graemyn takes our mission with serious intent and grave heart.”
“Well, of course he does,” Nedd said. “Why else would he have sent the wretched message in the first place?”
The herald allowed himself a small, icy smile. Rhodry urged his horse forward, made a graceful half-bow in the saddle, and addressed himself to the herald.
“O honored voice of the king, we give you greetings and pledge our very lives as surety for your safe passage.”
The herald bowed, visibly relieved to find someone who knew the ritual salutations, even if that someone was a silver dagger.
“My humble thanks,” he said. “And who are you?”
“A man who loves our liege more than his own life.”
“Then we shall be honored to ride beside you on our journey to justice.”
“May the king’s justice live forever in the land.”
Rhodry had to tell Nedd how to dispose his men: his lordship to ride with the herald, his warband to fall in behind the king’s men. Rhodry himself was planning on taking the humblest place at the very rear, but as he rode down the line, the councillor caught his eye and beckoned him to fall in beside him.
“So, Rhodry Maelwaedd,” he said. “You’re still alive. I’ll tell your honored mother that when next we meet at court.”
“I’d be most grateful, good sir, but have I had the honor of meeting you? Wretch that I am, I fear me I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Oh, I doubt if you ever knew it. It’s Cunvelyn, and I know your lady mother fairly well.” He considered Rhodry shrewdly for a moment. “It truly does gladden my heart to see you alive and well. Doubtless you haven’t heard the news from Aberwyn.”
“None, good sir, except what scraps the occasional traveler gives me.”
“Ah. Well, your brother’s second wife appears to be barren, while his cast-off lady was delivered of a fine healthy son.”
Rhodry swore under his breath with a most uncourtly oath, but the councillor merely smiled. It was a moment he’d remember all his life, a moment as unlikely as the sun rising suddenly in a midnight sky, changing night magically into day. When Rhys died, he would be Aberwyn’s heir, and he allowed himself to hope for the thing that he’d long since given up hoping for: recall. Aberwyn was such an important rhan that the king himself might well take a hand in bringing home its heir from the dangers of the long road.
“I would advise you to keep yourself as safe as possible,” Cunvelyn said. “Are you short up for coin?”
“Not in the least.”
“Good. Perhaps then you can avoid hiring out your sword straightaway.”
“I will, good sir.”
Although Rhodry’s heart ached to ask more, he knew that the old man’s court training would allow no more answers. For a few moments they rode in silence; then Cunvelyn turned to him.
“Your little daughter’s well, by the by. Your lady mother keeps her always by her side.”
Rhodry had to think for a moment before he remembered the bastard he’d sired on a common-born lass. How many years ago was it? he wondered. Three, I think.
“That’s most kind of my lady mother,” he said hurriedly. “And what is she named?”
“Rhodda, to keep her father’s memory alive.”
“I see. Mother always did know how to badger Rhys.”
The councillor allowed himself the briefest of smiles.
Rhodry spent the rest of the journey in a fury of impatience to tell Jill the councillor’s news. If he were reading the hints aright, soon they would be back in Eldidd, living in the comfort and splendor he assumed that she wanted. And this time, she would be more than just his mistress. He was no longer a spoiled younger son who needed a strong wife to keep him in rein; he was a man they needed, a man in a position to make demands. He would get her a title, settle land upon her as a