The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [113]
Faced with this scrupulous fairness, Rhodry felt his rage slip away. In its place came a cold realization that nearly made him weep: Jill didn’t love him anymore.
“Well, Your Grace, call me a fool if you want, but I do want her back. I’ve got a thing or two to say to her, and by every god in the Otherlands, I’ll find her if I search all summer long.”
“This is a bit of luck,” Merryc said.
“Well, in a way,” Gwin said. “We won’t have to bother with the lass, sure enough, but Rhodry’s going to be following her, not moving in the direction we want him to.”
“Oh, indeed? Think, young one. From everything I’ve been able to see, this Perryn fellow knows the woods like his mother’s tit. What does a man like Rhodry know of woodcraft? When he was a lord, he had foresters and game wardens to worry about such things, and silver daggers stick to the roads.” He smiled gently. “I’ll talk to Briddyn through the fire about this, but I think we’ve found the perfect bait to lure our bird down to the seacoast. The only clues he’ll find are the ones we throw in his path.”
TWO
All summer long Salamander, or Ebañy Salomonderiel, to give him his full Elvish name, had been riding through Deverry and tracking his brother down, but he’d done it slowly by a long, winding road, because the People never hurried anywhere, and for all his human blood, he’d been raised among the elves. Right at first, just over the Eldidd border, he’d found a pretty lass who’d taken to more than his songs; he idled in Cernmetyn with her for a pair of pleasant weeks. Then, once he was up in Pyrdon, a noble lord paid him well for entertaining the guests at his daughter’s wedding—six merry days of feasting. After that, he wandered through Deverry, always heading north to Cerrgonney, but sometimes lingering in an interesting town for a few days here, a lord’s dun for an eightnight there. When he’d scried Rhodry out and found him besieged, he’d put on a good burst of speed, but only until he saw the siege lifted. Then it had seemed that his brother would be perfectly safe for a good long time, so he’d dallied again with another lass who’d been faithfully waiting for him since the summer before. It had seemed terribly dishonorable, after all, to just ride out quickly after she’d waited for such a long time.
And so it was that he was some hundred miles to the east of Graemyn’s dun on the sunny afternoon when Rhodry escorted the herald and the councillor there. He’d made an early camp by a stream, early simply because he was tired of riding, and tethered his horses out in a tiny meadow before he went down to the running water to scry. He saw Rhodry trembling as Camma told him her news, and with so much emotion behind it, the vision was strong enough so that he actually could hear—though not with his physical ears—something of what was said. It seemed, indeed, that he stood beside his brother as Benoic took the matter in hand. Then the vision vanished abruptly, banished by his own flood of feeling. He leapt to his feet and swore aloud.
“By the gods!” He shook his head in amazement. “Who ever would have thought it, indeed? I can’t believe Jill would desert him, I quite simply can’t.”
Kneeling again, he stared at the sun-dancing water and thought of Jill. Her image built up slowly, and when it came, it was oddly wavering and blurred. She was sitting in a mountain meadow and watching while Perryn tethered out three horses, including her Sunrise. His first thought was that she was ill, because she sat so quietly, her mouth slack like a half-wit’s, yet it was hard to see, because the vision was so misty. With a toss of his head, he dismissed it.
“Now, this looks most dire, peculiar, and puzzling. I think me I’d best try for a better look.”
When he called aloud in Elvish for Wildfolk, four gnomes and a sylph materialized in front of him.
“Listen carefully, little brothers. I’ve got a task for you, and if