The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [163]
“I might enjoy killing you,” the gerthddyn said in an offhand way. “But perhaps there’s no need.”
“But I told! I let out Briddyn’s name. Never did I realize that you were testing me.”
When Salamander chuckled, an unpleasant sort of laugh, Jill suddenly understood: the tavernman thought they were Hawks.
“Naught of the sort,” she broke in. “The Brotherhood is just that, a band of brothers. Have you even known brothers who weren’t all rivals in their hearts? Have you ever met an elder brother who willingly shared his sweetmeats with a younger? If you did, you knew a rare and holy man in the making.”
Color ebbed back into the tavernman’s face.
“I see. So you truly do want this Rhodry …”
“For reasons of our own, dog!” Salamander kicked him in the stomach hard enough to make him grunt. “But you didn’t tell him everything you knew, did you? Tell me now, or I’ll ensorcel you and make you jump off a pier and drown yourself.”
Wiping his mouth repeatedly on the back of his hand, he nodded his agreement, then swallowed heavily and finally spoke.
“They are taking him to Slaith. I don’t know why. But I heard Briddyn mention somewhat about Slaith to his two companions.”
Although the name meant nothing to Jill, Salamander grunted in surprised recognition.
“I should have guessed that,” he said. “Well and good, dog. Slink back to your kennel. But if you mention us to anyone …”
“Never! I swear it on the gods of both our peoples!”
Trembling, sweating in great drops, he scrambled to his feet and shamelessly ran for the door. As Jill shut it after him, she heard him pounding down the corridor.
“Slaith, is it?” Salamander said in a grim voice. “A bad omen, little pigeon, a wretched bad omen indeed.”
“Where is it? I’ve never heard of it.”
“I’m not surprised, seeing as few ever have. But I must say, you’ve certainly put the fear of demonhood into that fellow’s craven heart. What am I traveling with, a poisonous snake?”
“Let’s hope so. They always say that vipers are immune to venom themselves.” She paused, struck by a sudden thought. “But I wonder if that fellow sees Hawks everywhere because he fell foul of them once. Those scars …”
“Oh, not that. I forget you don’t know much about Bardek. He was no doubt a knife fighter. It’s a sport there, you see. You have the knife in one hand, and around the other arm is this padded sleeve you use like a shield. The man who scores the first cut wins. The rich folk there have their favorites, and they shower them with gifts and suchlike. That’s doubtless how our friend got the coin for his tavern, but seeing as it’s in the Bilge, he must not have been truly successful, or—”
“Oh ye gods, I don’t give a pig’s fart! Do you have to babble on about everything?”
“Well, actually, I do, because it relieves my feelings and makes me sound like a fool, which is exactly what I want our enemies to think me. Who’ll take a fool and a viper seriously?”
“Done, then. You babble, and I’ll hiss.”
“And it’s time I did some babbling down in the harbor. We want to book a passage to Dun Mannanan. It’s faster than riding the whole way, and we can buy horses there for the final journey.”
“But where are we going?”
“Slaith, of course. Ah, my pretty little turtledove, a most peculiar surprise lies in store for you.”
Since sending one lone prisoner on remand to Aberwyn was low in the royal priorities, Perryn rotted in the king’s jail for several days, each one more tedious than the last. With nothing to do but sleep and plait bits of straw into little patterns, he was almost glad when Madoc came one morning and announced that he’d be leaving that very afternoon.
“There’s a galley going down to Cerrmor with dispatches, and they have room for a horse thief. From there I’m farming you out on a merchant vessel. I wouldn’t advise trying to escape. The master of the ship is a formidable man.