The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [100]
“It’s much cooler today,” Branna said. “Especially up here.”
“It is,” Neb said, “thanks to all the gods!”
They had climbed the catwalk to the top of the dun wall in search of privacy, because the cook was busy in her garden and the grooms were mucking out the stables. Branna hauled herself up to perch between two merlons, while Neb contented himself with leaning against the cool stone wall.
“Do be careful,” he said. “I keep being afraid you’ll fall.”
“Oh, heights don’t bother me. They never have. I used to love to climb the walls of my father’s dun, too.” And in her dreams, Branna suddenly remembered, she could fly like a falcon, indeed, as a falcon.
“Is somewhat wrong?” Neb said.
“There’s not. Why?”
“You went a bit pale.”
“Did I? Oh, it’s of no importance. I was just remembering a thing that Salamander told me once.” Branna was afraid that Neb would ask more, but he apparently had a more pressing matter on his mind.
“Um, well, did you ask your aunt yet?” he said. “About our marriage, I mean.”
“I’ve not had the chance. Omaena and Pedrys didn’t leave till late in the morning, and my aunt’s been going over accounts with Lord Veddyn, to see how much food and suchlike the tourney used up.”
Neb looked as disappointed as a child when rain spoils a promised excursion. Branna turned slightly and gazed out over the long view, the green fields and tidy farmsteads, the sparkling little river. In one of the river’s bends a herd of white cows had lined up to drink, looking like a drift of snow from her distance. She remembered, as she watched them, her dreams of swooping over the countryside on a pair of strong wings, and how the view had looked from high in the air.
“You still want to marry me, don’t you?” Neb’s voice turned urgent. “You’re not too frightened, are you?”
“Frightened? Of course not!” Branna turned back to look at him. “Besides, whether I marry you or not, I’m going to have to make some kind of peace with the dweomer.”
“You look frightened.” Neb tilted his head to one side to study her face.
“Beast!” She nearly stuck out her tongue at him, then decided that the gesture lacked dignity. “Oh, very well, I’ll admit it. Last night was frightening.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked the Wildfolk for that golden ball.”
“Nah nah nah! That wasn’t it. It’s the other lass. The one that seems to live inside my mind. I was so aware of her last night, and I want to be me, not her.”
“Oh.” Neb considered this seriously for a moment. “Well, I feel that other man inside me, too, but—let me think, how to say this—but he seems to be me, or another me, or suchlike. I’m not frightened because I know he’s part of me. What about that lass? Isn’t she just part of you?”
“I suppose. But there’s sort of a gap between us. Oh, that doesn’t make any sense!”
“In a way it does. I just don’t know enough to help you.”
For a moment Branna came close to weeping. Why had she been so sure that Neb could help, that he would somehow solve the problem and banish her fear?
“Here, here,” Neb said, and he held out his hand. “Come down, my love.”
She nodded and jumped the little way down to the wooden catwalk. He caught her hand and drew her close, kissed her, brushed the tears away. In his arms she felt suddenly safe.
“Well, one of us will find the answer,” she said. “If not, there’s Salamander, and if not him, then maybe we’ll find someone who knows.” She looked up at him and smiled. “And I’ll talk with my aunt as soon as ever I can.”
“That will gladden my heart. I—” Neb abruptly paused and looked up. “That’s odd.”
“What?” Branna let go of him and looked up.
In the sky a single raven wheeled over the dun, a large bird, too large, really, for his kind. She shivered, watching it dip and circle in utter silence.
“It’s the only one I’ve seen around here,” Neb said. “I wonder if it’s scared the others off?”
“I’ve seen this one before. When was—that