The Red Wyvern - Katharine Kerr [102]
“I hope you’re right, I truly do.”
“So do I. I’ve staked my own Wyrd on it.”
She turned to see him smiling, but ruefully.
“Very well,” she said. “Then I’ll serve the prince in any way that I can.”
Yet round her heart she felt as cold and hard as the stone towers, so dark against the sky. She stood looking up at them until a familiar voice called her name: Peddyc. She turned to see the men of the Ram trotting toward her.
“Lilli!” Anasyn threw an arm around her shoulder. “The page told us about the bolthole. How splendid of you!”
Tight in his brotherly embrace she could laugh; she felt safe, she realized, for the first time in weeks. Peddyc stood watching, smiling a little, his eyes, set so deep in his lean face, weary from the soul.
“Bevva would be proud of you,” he said. “You’re a daughter of the Ram, sure enough.”
“Well, there! You see?” Oggyn said. “Our little Boars-woman has found a way to get herself to the battle.”
“What?” Nevyn snarled. “What could she possibly—”
“Who knows? But I think she should be placed under close guard.”
“Like a criminal? After she’s risked so much to help the prince’s cause?”
“The matter could be presented as a move to protect her.”
Nevyn stopped himself from snarling again. Oggyn’s moist mouth smiled inside his beard, as if at a victory.
“And how will Tieryn Peddyc and his men take that?” Nevyn said. “Or his overlord, for that matter?”
Oggyn’s smile disappeared. He turned on his heel and marched off, leaving Nevyn fuming behind him. Caradoc, who’d been watching from a little distance, strolled over.
“What a generous nature he has,” the captain remarked. “So mindful of the niceties of honor.”
Nevyn relieved his feelings with a string of oaths. Caradoc laughed.
“I just don’t understand why he’s so suspicious of the lass,” Nevyn said. “There’s naught she can do that would injure Maryn’s cause.”
“It’s not the lass, my lord. It’s you. You’ve got more influence over the prince than any man alive. Oggyn’s jealous. Needs to feel like he’s bested you in somewhat, even a little thing that should be beneath his notice.”
Nevyn opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.
“Him and that Tieryn Gauryc both,” Caradoc went on. “I see him and Oggyn with their heads together now and again.”
“Indeed? Interesting. You’re right, of course, about Oggyn. He’d love to have more of the prince’s favor, and that means I need to have less. But Gauryc?”
“I don’t know what’s griping his soul so badly. I could ask around.”
“Would you? I should be most grateful.”
Nevyn had servants set him up a small tent some few feet in front of the door into Lilli’s, so that he’d see anyone entering and leaving there. He’d just finished moving his things into it when Caradoc returned, bearing news. They walked a little away from the camp down toward the outer wall to get some privacy.
“Here’s the gossip, my lord,” Caradoc said. “And men who sneer at women for being gossips should sew up the rip in their own brigga first—I’ve seen a lot of bare bum today. Gossip about this, gossip about that! Ye gods! But the rumor that matters to us wins the tourney, like. When Maryn’s high king, it runs, he’ll bestow the Cerrmor gwerbretrhyn upon you. Gauryc rather fancies that rhan for himself or his eldest son.”
“That’s ridiculous! I’m much too old, and I don’t have heirs. I’m not likely to get any, either.”
“Oh here, my lord! If you were Gwerbret Cerrmor, would your age matter one whit to a noble-born lass? For that matter, here’s young Lilli, an exile with no dowry. She can’t afford to be fussy, like, and they’ve all seen her walking with you in the gardens back home.”
“Ye gods! They think I’m courting her? Well, that would indeed give our Gauryc somewhat to worry over.”
“Like a terrier with a rat.”
“My thanks, captain. I’ll do some thinking and see if I can lay their minds to rest.”
“Why? Let them chew on it awhile. It’ll keep them out of