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By Root 1557 0

their escorts long gone, there was room in the barracks for the Red Wolf warband. Gerran had assumed that he would sleep there as well, but his sudden elevation in rank meant that Lord Oth gave him a chamber in the broch complex itself, one of the small chambers lacking a hearth and located up a great many stairs that were the lot of unmarried noble-born males, but a chamber none the less. Gerran dropped his saddlebags on the floor and his bedroll on the swaybacked mattress, then stood looking out of his narrow window at a view of the stables while he wondered what to do next. He was afraid to go down to the great hall, he realized, and sit with the noble-born, but he supposed it would be a breach of courtesy if he went and joined the Red Wolf warband at their tables.

Eventually, Clae solved the problem by appearing with a washbasin and a pitcher of water. Since the room lacked both table and storage chest, he set them on the stone sill of the unglazed window.

“Lord Oth sent me up with these,” Clae said.

“Good,” Gerran said. “I need to wash the dust off before I go back to the great hall.”

While Gerran cleaned up, the lad set about untying the bedroll and spreading the blankets over the mattress. Gerran could remember doing the same thing for various lords when he’d been a page in this same dun. It occurred to him that as a noble lord, he was supposed to be supporting servants as well as a warband, not that he had the wherewithal to feed either.

“Here, Clae,” he said, “do you want to be my page from now on?”

“I do. I’d be ever so honored, my lord. I was going to ask you, but Neb told me it would be discourteous.”

“I suppose it would have been, not that I’d have cared. I’m not going to make much of a lord. You do realize, don’t you, that it means leaving your brother behind.”

“Neb told me that, too. I don’t care. Well, I sort of care, but not enough to refuse your service.”

“Consider it done, then.”

“My thanks, my lord. And I’ve got a message for you. Calonderiel invited you to come down to his tent. He told me to tell anyone who asked that he wants to establish friendly relations with the Gold Falcon clan, but mostly he thought you’d like to have some mead, and he’s got some.”

“Splendid! Let’s go. Maybe I can just sit with them at dinner tonight and figure out what I’m supposed to do later.”

Although Branna and Neb would have liked to have stayed alone in their chamber forever, sheer hunger drove them out and down to the great hall. If anyone had missed them during the afternoon, no one mentioned it, and they returned to their places at Cadryc’s table without so much as a smirk to greet them. Adranna had come down from the women’s hall, bringing Trenni with her, to join Solla and Galla. Both children sat as close to their mother as they could get on the narrow bench. The tieryn was telling his assembled womenfolk how the prince had maneuvered Ridvar into offering Gerran the demesne.

“I’ve never seen our Falcon so surprised,” Cadryc was saying. All at once he seemed to realize that some at the table would find the story painful. “Addi, my dear, I think me I’ll finish the tale some other time.”

“My thanks, Da.” Adranna gave him a weary smile. “I’m not yet ready to hear—” She paused for a long moment. “To hear all of it.”

“I thought not.” Cadryc had a swallow of ale from his tankard and made a sour face. “Ye gods, this has been watered right down. I suppose the wedding drank the dun dry, eh? But as I was saying, those dragons were quite a marvel. Did I tell you yet about the priest of Bel’s cows?”

Aunt Galla and Solla exchanged a glance, then murmured a cheerful, “You didn’t and please do.” Anything to keep him from talking about Honelg and the attainder! Branna thought, but once she heard the story, she did have to admit that it was a good one. She could imagine Arzosah’s smug satisfaction at getting a good meal out of a particularly stingy priest. She joined in the general laughter, but Neb leaned close to whisper to her.

“There’s a bit more to this tale than his grace knows,” Neb said. “And it’s not