The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [107]
“Cullyn, Cullyn!” It was Tevylla, running across the ward with her skirts hiked up like a farm lass. “Rhodda’s gone off somewhere!”
“Ye gods! When?”
“Just now. She was playing with her grandmother when Nevyn came in, and the poor child was so incensed that our lady went off with him that she dashed out the door before I half realized what was happening. I’ve got every page and serving lass in the dun searching the broch for her, but I’ll wager she went outside. She always does head for the open air when somewhat’s troubling her.”
“So she does. The stables are a good wager. She loves the horses.”
Yet as they were hurrying across the ward, it occurred to Cullyn that Rhodda had once been the object of the dark dweomer’s attack, and that they had a dark dweomerman in the dun.
“Come on! This way!”
He set off at a trot with her running to keep up as they dodged through the huts and sheds in the crowded ward. Just as they turned round the armory by the gaol, they saw Amyr rushing out to meet them.
“Captain! We’ve got to fetch Nevyn. Somewhat truly weird is happening.”
“Nevyn’s in the chamber of justice with the tieryn,” Tevylla said, panting a little. “Hurry, lad!”
Merryc’s cell was at the end of a narrow corridor. As Cullyn ran down, he could see Praedd, cursing and writhing and swatting at the air as if he were being attacked by huge and invisible wasps. The padlock and its chain were jingling furiously, slipping this way and that on the bar but not, of course, ever coming free, hedged by the staples as they were.
“Old Nevyn’s a farsighted man,” Cullyn remarked. Almost in spite of himself he was remembering the time when Jill was a tiny lass and used to prattle about seeing the Wildfolk. If nothing else, he decided, it was worth a try. “All right, Praedd, I’m here. Hang on a bit.”
Cullyn set his hands on his hips and glared at the air right by the lad’s head.
“Stop that all of you right now, or Nevyn’s going to be as mad as mad, and so will I.”
With one last sob Praedd slumped back against the wall.
“It’s gone, captain. It just stopped. Whatever it was.”
“Good. Now, come away from the door. There’s naught more you can do. Go outside and wait for the old man there.”
He pressed himself against the wall to let Praedd sidle past, then went down to the door. From inside the cell he heard a howl of rage, and Merryc’s face appeared in the tiny barred opening. Mindful of what Nevyn said, Cullyn looked only at the bridge of the prisoner’s nose and held his gaze there. After a brief moment Merryc snarled like a dog.
“You won’t be ensorceling me, lad,” Cullyn said, and calmly. “Now where’s the child? Tell me, or I’ll break you on the wheel myself, one bone at a time. I don’t have Nevyn’s scruples.”
“What makes you think I know where she is?”
“Tell me, or your death comes in pieces, and as slow as I can make it.”
“In the shed directly in back of here. It’s full of sacks of turnips. That’s all I can see through her eyes, but I know she’s nearby.”
With a sound halfway between a sob and a gasp, Tevylla rushed down the hall and out, nearly running into Nevyn, judging from the round of hasty apologies at the door. As the old man came hurrying down, Cullyn slowly and deliberately turned his back on Merryc. He could hear the evil dweomerman snarling again in sheer frustrated rage, but Nevyn was grinning.
“By the hells, captain, from what Praedd’s been telling me even the Folk of the Air are afraid of Cullyn of Cerrmor!”
“Not truly, my lord. I threatened them with you.”
Nevyn actually laughed, a rusty chuckle like the creaking of an old gate, then handed over the big iron key, so Cullyn could unlock the chain. When they opened the door they found Merryc cowering in a corner with his arms thrown over his face. Cullyn grabbed him by the wrists, flung him forward, pulled him round and twisted his arms behind his back while Merryc screamed and swore in the Bardek tongue. Then Nevyn stepped in and looked him in the face before the man could close his eyes. Cullyn watched