The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [144]
“Oh, he’s glorious!” Ridvar forgot courtesy and rank both. He strode over to the gelding, who tossed his head in a ripple of silvery mane as if to greet him. “My thanks! A thousand thanks!”
Salamander glanced at Dallandra, mouthed a few words, then stepped into the crowd gathering around the elven party and slipped away. He was looking for Branna and Neb, but when he saw Lord Oth standing alone in the doorway of a side building, he hurried over. “And a good morrow to you, gerthddyn,” Oth said. “I don’t suppose you have any news for me.”
“About the Horsekin, my lord? I’m afraid I do, and it’s the worst news in the world. I found the fortress they’re building off to the west.”
Oth swore under his breath.
“Indeed,” Salamander went on. “I need your advice. When should I broach the topic? I don’t want to spoil the festivities, you see, and—”
“The festivities may have to wait,” Oth interrupted with a curt wave of his hand. “Do you have proof?”
“I do indeed, my lord. A plate with Horsekin writing, a bit of building stone, and an odd little packet of tokens dedicated to the false goddess Alshandra.” Salamander pointed at Daralanteriel and the rest of the elven party. “The prince found it convincing.”
“Good. I happen to believe you myself, mind. The gwerbret may or may not, but he knows that Daralanteriel and your cadvridoc would never lie to him.” Oth paused, chewing on the ends of his mustaches. “How to break the news, I wonder . . . well, this will require some thought.”
“I truly hate to spoil the wedding. His poor betrothed!”
“Huh! She’s marrying Ridvar out of duty to her clan. I doubt if her happiness is at stake. Besides, she’s the daughter of a gwerbret, and she understands the ways of these things.” Again Oth paused, thinking. “Here, say naught until I bring you forward, but soonest will be best.”
Eventually the gwerbret allowed a groom to lead his new horse away. Unfortunately, several lads, Clae among them, had just started to lead other horses out of the stables, and for a few moments men, Westfolk, mounts, and servants all milled around in a hopeless mob. Finally Ridvar took charge and began yelling orders. A path cleared between the guests and the great hall. Salamander caught Dallandra’s attention and waved her over.
“Lord Oth says we should wait with our news till he summons us,” Salamander said. “Could you tell the prince?”
“Certainly,” Dalla said. “I’d like to meet Neb and Branna as soon as possible, remember.”
“Of course. I’m just off to look for them.”
Branna was sitting at a table in the great hall with Galla and Lady Solla when she saw Salamander, standing just inside the door, peering this way and that at the assembled guests. As well as the guests and the members of their various escorts, the great hall swarmed with servants, hurrying this way and that as they cleared the remnants of the noon meal away. Branna shoved back her chair and stood, waving to attract Salamander’s attention. At last he saw her and hurried over, dodging around a manservant who was carrying an armload of table linens for the table of honor, the only table that had been graced with cloths.
“There you are!” Salamander said. “Good morrow, fair ladies.” He bowed to Solla and Galla, then made an extravagant parody of a bow to Branna.
“And a good morrow to you, too, gerthddyn,” Branna said. “It gladdens my heart to see you again.”
“And mine to see you. Is Neb here somewhere?”
“My betrothed?” Branna said. “He just went up to our chamber for a moment.”
“Well, my congratulations!” Salamander glanced at Galla. “I take it you approve of the marriage.”
“Very much so,” Galla said, “and more to the point, so did her father. Well, with you here, we shall have some pleasant tales of an evening, I hope.”
“As pleasant as I can make them, my lady, though alas, alack, and welladay, I bring some very bad news.”
“About the Horsekin?” Branna said.
Solla caught her breath