The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [127]
“And besides, she shan’t harm you. I won’t let her. Here, let’s go back to the dun. She won’t follow us there.”
“But she will! I mean—earlier, I felt her there. It was like I was looking out of her eyes, not mine. I even felt taller, somehow, like my body had changed, too.”
“I can’t make sense out of this, and no more can you, from the sound of it.”
“Of course I can’t! If I could, I wouldn’t be frightened.”
“Well, true spoken. But here, let’s go back to the dun. You can find your aunt and keep to her company. Now, either the ghost will shun a crowded place like that, in which case, you’ll be safe, or else, she’ll appear there, and others will see her, and then you’ll know that, truly, she’s a ghost.”
“Well reasoned, indeed.” Branna managed to smile. “No wonder my aunt thinks you’ll be an asset to a lord’s court.”
“Let’s hope she’s right, so I’ll be able to keep you in the luxury you deserve. Now let’s get back, shall we?”
Branna shamelessly ran back to her horse. She was mounted and ready to ride before he even reached his, but she was afraid to ride away without him. He mounted up and urged his horse up next to hers.
“I’ve had an idea,” Neb said. “There’s a temple of Bel in town. I’ll get you back, then walk down and consult with the priests.”
“Of course!” Branna said. “They should know the local lore about ghosts.”
“Just that. But it might be hard to sort out. After all, a lot of people died here during the Horsekin War.”
“But none of the women. According to the tales I’ve heard, the siege didn’t last that long.”
“I heard that, too. Well, I’ll see what the priests have to say.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“I wouldn’t, if I were you. They’ll only make you wait outside the gates.”
“True-spoken. I keep forgetting that I’m an unclean female thing in their eyes.”
Once they’d ridden safely inside the gates of the gwerbret’s dun, Branna began to feel more than a little foolish. Everything seemed too busy, too normal, for ghosts to be lurking about. Servants bustled around the crowded ward, carrying firewood and supplies to the cookhouse or lugging heaps of bedding and clothes into the dun. Pages trotted back and forth on errands. A pair of joking, laughing grooms took Neb and Branna’s horses and led them off to join others tied up outside for want of room in the stables.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” Neb told her.
“My thanks,” Branna said. “I’ll be down in the great hall by then.”
Up in her chamber, Branna found a pitcher of water and a basin waiting for her. She washed her face and hands, then changed her dusty riding clothes for a pair of blue dresses. To comb out her hair she sat on the windowsill and looked down into the ward. The sight of other people comforted her, as did the warm breeze and the gleaming sunlight. Ghosts seemed very far away. The gray gnome appeared and hopped up onto the broad stone sill to sit opposite her. When she told him about her reaction to the sight of the ford, he clutched his head in both hands and scowled at her.
“What’s this? Are you saying I’ve not understood her?”
He nodded his head yes.
“Well, if she’s not a ghost, then what is she?”
The gnome pointed at her.
“She can’t be me. I’m me, and she’s—well, she’s her.”
Once again it clutched its head, then with a last scowl disappeared.
There’s no understanding them sometimes, Branna thought. The Wildfolk! She left the chamber and headed for the great hall. About halfway down the curving stone staircase, she hesitated, caught by her fears, until she spotted her aunt, standing by the hearth and greeting the various lords and ladies who came up to her. The sight of the one person in her childhood who’d always loved her gave her the courage to continue down the stairs and plunge into the crowd. Dodging people and dogs alike, she made her way to Galla and sat down beside her to wait for Neb to return.
The temple of Bel stood on the other side of Cengarn from the gwerbret’s dun. As Neb made his way there, he saw a row of squat clay ovens outside a solid-looking