The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [134]
“So I’d heard, Your Grace, but then, there’s been quite a bit of talk of late of your cousin Rhodry.”
“No doubt. Trying to keep a secret at court is generally a waste of time. The gossip started buzzing, I’ll wager, the moment our liege summoned me here.”
“A bit sooner than that, truly.” Madoc shook his head in mock sadness. “The first rumors, Your Grace, were that the king might summon you.”
“I’ll wager you know, then, that our liege is looking for my scapegrace cousin.”
“I do, at that, and the gossip is that the king means to override his sentence of exile.”
“Well, I can’t really tell you if that’s true or not. I haven’t been sworn to any secrets, mind—our liege hasn’t told me, that’s all. I’ll guess that he’s not sure yet.”
“Most like, Your Grace. Overriding a gwerbret’s decree is naught to be done lightly.”
“Just so.” Blaen paused for a long swallow of mead. “But curse it all, the king can’t do one thing or the other until Rhodry’s been found.”
“Still no news, Your Grace?”
“Not a shred. By every god and his wife, what’s wrong with those packs of idiots that the gwerbrets call riders? The kingdom’s big, sure enough, but they should have found one silver dagger by now.”
“So you’d think, Your Grace.” For the briefest of moments, Madoc looked troubled. “I truly thought they would have tracked him down quite quickly.”
“So did I.” Here was the crux, and Blaen paused briefly. “In fact, I was wondering if perhaps you’d help with the hunt.”
“Me, Your Grace? Well, I’d certainly do anything that my duties here allow, but I’m not sure what I could do.”
“I’m not truly sure either, but I suspect a man known as Nevyn’s nephew might see things hidden from others.”
Madoc blinked twice, then smiled.
“Ah, Your Grace. You know about the old man’s dweomer, then.”
“I do. He went out of his way to let me know, last summer, it was. He seemed to find it strangely easy to see things a long way away.”
“So he can, Your Grace. Let me be blunt. If I could scry Rhodry out, I would, but I’ve never seen him in the flesh, and so I can’t.”
Blaen had a gulp of mead to hide his surprise. He’d been expecting a lot of fencing before Madoc admitted the truth, but here the man had just spat it out.
“I see,” Blaen said at last. “Pity.”
“It is. I may be able to get you news some other way. His Grace is right. Things are growing worrisome. Rhodry really should have been found by now.”
“Just so. Do you know what my worst fear is? That some of the men whose clans stand to inherit Aberwyn when Rhys dies may have taken steps to have the legitimate heir removed.”
“Ye gods! Would they stoop so low?”
“Aberwyn is one of the richest rhans in the kingdom, and it’s going to grow richer. Just a year ago the king gave the city a more liberal charter. One of the terms was that Aberwyn would have a share in the royal monopoly on trade with Bardek.”
Madoc nodded, a grim little smile twisting his mouth.
“His Grace’s point is well taken. Well and good, then. If His Grace will excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Blaen was expecting Madoc to leave the chamber, but instead he went to the window and looked up at the sky, where white clouds billowed and tore on the edge of a summer storm. He stood there while Blaen downed two more goblets of mead and wondered what the man was doing; finally he turned back, looking troubled.
“Rhodry’s almost to Drauddbry, and he seems to be traveling south. He’s bought himself a second horse to make speed. It would appear that he’s heading for Cerrmor.”
“I wonder what they want in Cerrmor.”
“They, Your Grace?”
“Well, isn’t Jill with him?”
“My apologies, Your Grace. I forgot you wouldn’t know. He and Jill were separated by an unfortunate turn of events. She’s following along after him with a friend, a gerthddyn who gallantly offered to escort her. The last I heard, they were coming to Dun Deverry to beg your aid.”
“Which they’ll have, of course.” Blaen considered for a moment. “Have you ever met my cousin or his woman?”
“I’ve not, Your Grace.”
“They match each other like