The Red Wyvern - Katharine Kerr [139]
“Ye gods! I never heard her moan or cry out.”
“She looks frail. The poison might have killed her very quickly. No doubt she shared the little treat someone had so kindly sent the lad.”
Despite the sound of their voices, Olaen never moved, not even a twitch. Nevyn strode to the window and leaned out to breathe the cleaner air.
“So,” Caudyr said. “Who did this, do you think? Councillor Oggyn?”
“It’s a good guess. He feared our Maryn’s talent for mercy.”
“Where do you think the old sot got the poison?”
“I don’t—oh ye gods! I do know. From Lady Merodda’s things, the ones the guards brought him along with my book.”
“Do we go to the prince about this?”
“How can we? We don’t have a scrap of evidence.”
“Evidence?” Caudyr looked as if he’d spit. “Ask Oggyn outright. You can always tell when a man is lying. The prince will take your word for it.”
“So? My word’s not evidence under the laws. As much as I’d like to see this poor woman avenged, it would be a grievous thing if the prince broke the laws to do it.”
Caudyr stared at him for a long time, then sighed.
“Sometimes,” Caudyr said, “I think that I’ll never understand you, no matter how long I know you.”
“Indeed? Well, you’ve had a hard life.”
Olaen never woke again but died just as the first dawn silvered the sky. Nevyn had the guards summon servants to clean up the murderous filth and lay the dead out properly, then went down to the cookhouse behind the dun. Although he’d hoped to find the cooks and question them, what he found was chaos. Half the high-ranking servants had fled the dun and taken their tools with them. Cleavers, iron kettles, and the like fetched a high price in the war-torn kingdom. Maryn’s own servants were trying to restore order and scratch together some kind of breakfast for the prince, his noble allies, guards, councillors, and themselves while keeping a cautious eye on those who’d once served the false king. Merely from watching, Nevyn realized that no one in the confusion of preparing last night’s meal would have noticed Oggyn or a plate of honeycakes coming in or going out.
Nevyn also realized that he didn’t even know the poison’s name. How could he go to Maryn babbling of poisoners if he couldn’t even name the thing out? He paused in the ward and looked up at the tower where Lady Merodda was imprisoned. That wretched fool of a bard! he thought. There’s so much I could ask her if only the prince had been able to pardon her! There’s so much I need to ask her—in his mind he could see all too vividly the image of the lead tablet, scribed with evil dweomer in the ancient tongue. What did it mean? How could he turn it harmless? Merodda would never tell him now, and he couldn’t even find it in his heart to blame her.
It occurred to him, however, that Lilli might know about her mother’s poisons. He was heading out of the dun gates toward the encampment when he heard someone call his name and saw one of Lilli’s maidservants hurrying toward him.
“My lord Nevyn!” Clodda said. “Have you seen our lady?”
“I’ve not. Did she leave her tent?”
“She never came back to it last night. We’ve been ever so worried. I couldn’t find Tieryn Anasyn or you when I went to look.”
“Well, I’m here now. Go back to the tent and wait there. I’ll look for her.”
As soon as the lass was gone, Nevyn leaned against the wall and glanced at the sky—apparently just an idle look at the clouds, but he was scrying Lilli out. He saw her immediately, sitting fully dressed at the end of a bed in a chamber, up in the main dun from the look of it. But where? He went back and in the great hall he found one of the servants left over from the old regime. The girl did indeed know what suites had formerly belonged to the Boars, and for a copper was glad enough to tell him.
“And Lady Lillorigga had the smallish one, right down at the end.”
When Nevyn found the chamber, he knocked,