The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [191]
“Well, come along,” Rhodry said. “You wanted a bit of sport with a helpless opponent, didn’t you? So make your strike.”
If Gwarryc had had the sense to throw his own shield and face him on even terms, he might have salvaged a bit of honor out of the situation, but instead, he merely charged, swinging hard at Rhodry’s unprotected side. Rhodry jumped back with a little leap that brought him round to Gwarryc’s flank as the enraged lord tried to stop his forward movement—too late. Rhodry slapped him three times on the buttocks, as if he were spanking a recalcitrant page. When the crowd burst out laughing, Gwarryc threw his sword and shield onto the ground, and strode off the field. In front of him the crowd parted, still laughing, and let him through. Although his own warband followed him, most of his erstwhile friends rushed forward to congratulate the winner.
“So much for their loyalty, eh?” Sligyn said to Peredyr.
“True spoken. Ah, this is a day to tell our grandsons about, sure enough!”
In the confusion men began milling about, shouting and laughing, or slinking away downcast. A lot of the recent recruits were trying to get close to the new gwerbret to speak with him, a few in sincere and obvious regret and humility, most with false bright smiles, as if they’d been hoping for his return all along. Rhodry himself was greeting everyone with great courtesy, smiling and nodding agreement even when it was plain they lied. Sligyn also saw Jill, standing off at the edge of the crowd and watching with a peculiarly melancholy smile. He worked his way through to join her.
“Oh, he’ll make a fine lord for Aberwyn,” Sligyn said. “Look at him, all diplomacy, eh? Good lad, good lad. And when will the wedding be, by the by?”
“Wedding?” Jill said with a start.
“Just that. Come now, we all know the lad’s going to marry you, eh? If Blaen hasn’t laid land and tide upon you, why, someone else will.”
“Oh. That wedding.” She looked idly away. “You’re right enough about Blaen. I’ve got land of my own in Cwm Peel now, a wilderness, he tells me, but it’ll serve.”
“So, you’re Lady Gilyan, eh?” Sligyn gave her a friendly slap on the back. “Good, good. We’ll have a splendid feast when the happy day comes, eh?”
Jill smiled, but her melancholy was almost palpable, as if she stood in a darker light. By then the crowd around the gwerbret was breaking up; the truly loyal warbands had gone to fetch their horses, the flatterers were slinking away. Not far from Rhodry stood Cullyn, listening as Blaen, goblet in hand, talked on and on about something, and the silver dagger Jill had called Gwin was standing just behind Rhodry himself. Down at the tables frightened servants were hurriedly clearing away the food and drink under Talidd’s supervision. Although there was no sign of Gwarryc or his warband, some of his supporters were hovering around—trying to put a good face on things, Sligyn supposed. Among them was the Bardek man called Alyan, sipping a tankard of ale and smiling in a dazed way, as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened to his employer’s cause. He finished the last of his drink, then strolled off toward the busy servants, the tankard dangling in one hand, as if he wanted one last refill before the barrels were rolled away. When he reached the gathering around the new gwerbret, he paused as if listening, then dropped the tankard and moved.
Jill suddenly swore and ran toward the clot of men just as someone yelled an alarm. Frozen by surprise, Sligyn saw Rhodry twist around barely in time as steel flashed beside him and the shouting rang out all round. Like dweomer Alyan had produced a dagger, and he was striking down as Rhodry flung up an arm to protect himself.
“Ware!” Gwin leapt in between assassin and lord.
The dagger struck into Gwin’s shoulder, and the bright blood ran as Gwin grabbed his enemy’s hair with one hand and shoved the other hard under his chin. There was a crack, a sickening crack like a stick breaking under a boot. Alyan slumped dead as Gwin flung him to the ground. Sligyn was never sure when he