The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [131]
“Well?” Galla blurted. “What did he say?”
“He agreed.” Branna managed to force out a smile. “He said I could marry whom I liked. Well, provided Neb accepts the dowry. It’s not much of one, just a couple of horses and a cart.”
“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t, but if not, then Cadryc and I will give it a bit more weight. We’ve won the real battle. That gladdens my heart, it truly does! Does Neb know yet?”
“Not yet. I’m not sure where he’s got to.”
“Let’s go down, and we can send a page to find him. I’ve had enough of the women’s hall, if you have.”
“Quite enough, my thanks!”
They walked on down and found an empty table near the dragon hearth, one equipped with proper chairs rather than backless benches.
“Now, let me think,” Galla said once they’d seated themselves. “We can’t announce your betrothal here and now, of course. It would be a terrible breach of courtesy. Naught should distract the guests from the gwerbret’s marriage. But once we’re home, we’ll have a splendid feast and invite all our vassals. I am so pleased Gwivvo saw reason!” She paused for a wicked grin and a wink. “It’s so unlike him.”
At that Branna could laugh, and her disappointment at her father’s reaction faded away.
“I don’t know where Cadryc’s got to either,” Galla said. “But if we wait here, he’ll doubtless turn up. Ah, there, however, is young Coryn. Page! Come here, lad!”
Coryn came trotting over, wiping his sticky face on the sleeve of his new shirt. Judging from the crumbs left on his chin he’d been eating honeycake, always in great supply at weddings.
“There you are,” Galla said. “Do you know where Neb’s got to? I want him to write a letter to our Adranna.”
“I’ll go look for him, my lady.”
“Very good, and then once you’ve found Neb, find and fetch the tieryn, too.”
With a bow, Coryn trotted off again.
“A letter?” Branna said. “Is there anyone in Honelg’s dun who’ll be able to read it?”
“Of course not,” Galla said. “In that ghastly place? The letter’s for the look of the thing, but I’ll ask your uncle to send a pair of his riders to speak the actual message.”
“You’re worried about Adranna, aren’t you?”
“I am. I never approved of that marriage, as you well know, not that your uncle or anyone else would listen to me, a mere mother though as noble-born as the rest of them.” Galla paused, scowling. “Well, let us talk of more auspicious things. This should be a happy day, not a gloomy one.”
Galla began pointing out the various noble lords in the hall and discussing their holdings. Now and then Branna thought of the witch’s ghost, but whatever or whoever she was, that strange presence failed to reappear.
By the time that Coryn found Neb, who’d been discussing ink with the gwerbret’s scribe in that worthy’s chamber, most of the noble-born women had returned to the great hall. Their presence had finished quieting down the crowd of riders and inspired the servants to bring out baskets of bread and cold meats to go with the ale and mead. Near the dragon hearth, Branna was sitting with her aunt and uncle. When Neb knelt by the tieryn’s side, Cadryc winked at him and smiled.
“Well, congratulations, lad,” Cadryc said. “Our Branna’s spoken to her father, and he approved your betrothal.”
Before he could stop himself, Neb threw both hands into the air and cheered. Cadryc laughed and slapped him on the shoulder.
“I see the news doesn’t vex your heart,” Cadryc said. “Get up, Nephew, and take a seat next to your betrothed.”
“My thanks, my lord and uncle.” Neb rose, dusting the straw off his knees. “I’m honored and thrice honored, and a lucky man as well.”
Branna was grinning at him. When he sat down on the bench next to her, she turned and kissed him on the cheek. He caught her hand and raised it to kiss it in return.
“I never thought I could be this happy in my life,” Neb said, “not once, not for the beat of a