The Bristling Wood - Katharine Kerr [86]
“Can you spare me a shield?”
“Of course. Ye gods, Perro, don’t tell me you ride without one?”
“Er, ah, well, I do at that. They take up too much space on your saddle.”
“You should have been born a woodcutter, I swear it!”
Perryn rubbed his chin and considered the suggestion.
“Just jesting,” Nedd said hurriedly. “Well, I hope a silver dagger turns up soon. There’s always a lot of them in Cerrgonney. We’ll wait a couple of days, then ride, even if we’re one short. Better that than riding in after the fighting’s over.”
The gods, however, apparently decided that if Lord Nedd was going to march to war, it might as well be straightaway. On the morrow, not long after breakfast, the kitchen gardener ambled in to announce that there was a silver dagger at the gates.
“And he’s got a woman with him, too,” the old man said. “I feel cursed sorry for her kin.”
“Is she pretty?” Nedd said.
“She is.”
Nedd and Perryn shared a small smile.
“Splendid,” Nedd said. “Send them in, will you?”
In a few minutes the silver dagger and his woman came in, both of them travel-stained and roughly dressed, the lass in men’s clothing with a sword and silver dagger of her own. Although her blond hair was cropped short like a lad’s, she was not merely pretty but beautiful, with wide blue eyes and a delicate mouth.
“Good morrow, my lords.” The silver dagger made them a courtly bow. “My name’s Rhodry of Aberwyn, and I heard in your village that you’ve got a hire for the likes of me.”
“I do,” Nedd said. “I can’t offer you more than a silver piece a week, but if you serve me well in the war, I’ll shelter you and your lass all winter.”
Rhodry glanced up at the roof, where sunlight broke through in long shafts, then down at the floor, where Nedd’s dogs snored in mildewed straw.
“Winter’s a long way away, my lord. We’ll be riding on.”
“Oh well,” Nedd said hastily. “I can squeeze out two silver pieces a week, and there’ll be battle loot, too.”
“Done then. His lordship is to be praised for his generosity.”
For Jill’s sake, Lord Nedd gave his silver dagger an actual chamber to sleep in instead of a mattress out in the great hall. Although the wickerwork walls were filthy, it did have a door. Rather than sit on the straw of the floor, which seemed to be inhabited, Jill perched on top of an unsteady wooden chest and watched as Rhodry cleaned his chain mail. As he ran an old rag through the rings to wipe away the rust, he was frowning in the candlelight.
“What are you thinking about?” she said.
“That old saying: as poor as a Cerrgonney lord.”
“Lord Nedd’s a marvel and a half, isn’t he? Are we actually going to stay here all summer and the winter, too?”
“Of course not. I’d rather sleep beside the roads. Are you sure you’ll fare well enough when I leave you behind?”
“Oh, no doubt the kennel will be comfortable enough when the dogs are all out of it. How long do you think the war will last?”
“War?” He looked up with a grin. “I wouldn’t dignify it with the word, my love. If Nedd’s allies are anything like him, no doubt there’ll be a lot of shouting and skirmishing, and then an end to it.”
“I hope you’re right. I feel danger coming in this.”
His smile gone, he laid the mail aside.
“More of your wretched dweomer?”
“Just that, but it’s not battle danger, exactly. I’m not even sure what I do mean. Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”
“I wish you hadn’t, truly.” He hesitated for a long moment, staring down at the straw. “I … ah, by the black ass of the Lord of Hell, let’s just forget it.”
“I know what you want to know. I don’t see your death coming. Ah ye gods, if ever I did, don’t you think I’d beg you not to ride to war?”
“And what good would that do? When my Wyrd comes upon me, I’ll die as easily from a fever or a fall from a horse as from a sword cut. Let me beg a boon from you, my love. If ever you see my death, say not a word about it.”
“I won’t, then. I promise.”
With a nod of thanks, he got up, stretching, and looked down at the mail glittering in the candlelight. He was so beautiful