The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [199]
Yet it was the very next morning, when the cool dawn was brightening into a hot day, that Lord Honelg’s herald finally appeared again on his lord’s walls. He blew three notes on his horn and waved his staff, making the bright ribands dance in the pale light. The shout went round Ridvar’s camp to summon Indar.
Neb—and everyone else in the Westfolk camp—hurried up the hill to join the gwerbret’s men, who had gathered some fifty yards from the entrance to the dun’s earthworks to wait during the parley. Speculations multiplied in whispers and murmurs, ranging from the extravagant hope that Honelg would surrender to the grim thought that he was merely going to order the princes and the gwerbret off his lands once again.
In the event, the outcome fell between the two. When Indar returned, he sported a thin smile of satisfaction. He knelt before Ridvar, then spoke as loudly as he could to make his voice carry to all his anxious listeners.
“Lord Honelg wants to send the womenfolk out, Your Grace,” Indar said. “He wishes to know if you’ll guarantee their safety.”
“The gall of the man!” Ridvar snarled. “As if I’d do aught else! Besides, Lady Adranna’s father is here.”
“Cursed right I am!” Cadryc shoved his way through the throng to join the gwerbret. “If anyone tries to harm my daughter or any of her women, then he’ll have me to answer to.”
“And that should provide all the reassurance he needs,” Ridvar said.
Indar rose, bowed to the noble-born, and trotted back to the dun, his staff held high, to disappear into the maze of earthworks. While this second parley continued, Ridvar and Cadryc’s men hurriedly armed, just in case Honelg was trying to work a ruse. In the past, a few dishonorable lords had used a call for parley to mount a surprise sally once the gates were open.
“Let’s move closer,” Salamander said to Neb. “I want to be right at hand when the lady comes out.”
“I take it you think we’ll be safe.”
“I do. I truly can’t see a devotee of Alshandra risking his women to trick an enemy.”
With some fancy maneuvering and a bevy of apologies, Salamander and Neb managed to work their way forward till they could stand beside Gerran, who had put on his mail shirt, though he carried his pot helm tucked under his left arm. He acknowledged the pair with a nod, then went back to watching the dun.
Both heralds’ horns rang out. Indar walked out of the maze, and right behind him came a woman who looked so much like Galla that Neb knew it had to be Adranna. She was leading a little girl along by the hand, and right behind her came three women wearing the stained and faded dresses that marked them as servants. The servants carried bundles wrapped in blankets, the lady’s possessions, no doubt, as well as the few things they themselves owned.
“The lass is Treniffa,” Salamander whispered to Neb. “I don’t know the servants’ names. My heart’s beginning to be troubled, though, because I don’t see Lady Varigga, Honelg’s mother.”
Tieryn Cadryc started forward to go meet them, but Ridvar caught his sleeve.
“You’d better stay back,” Ridvar said, “in case one of those archers decides you’re too valuable a target to ignore. They’re commoners, after all. We can’t expect them to behave honorably.”
“True spoken, Your Grace.” Cadryc stayed among his men.
Adranna hesitated at the sight of the army, then continued on, walking at a measured pace with her head held high across that last stretch of uneven ground. The servants trailed miserably after, and little Treniffa looked frankly terrified.
“Still no sign of Varigga,” Salamander said. “I fear the worst. The gates are closing now.”
“How can you tell?” Neb said. “I can’t see a cursed thing from here.”
Salamander gave him a weary smile, and Neb suddenly realized that the gerthddyn had just scryed out the dun. Adranna hesitated again, looking over the waiting men,