The Red Wyvern - Katharine Kerr [54]
Yet when the grey dawn’s light finally broke, her terror vanished into a welcome numbness. When they left the chamber, she carried an armload of saddlebags and tried to swagger like a lad. No one noticed or spoke to her, not even Peddyc’s captain when he joined the tieryn out in the ward, where the warband was assembling by the great gates. Lilli followed the manservant into the stables and helped him saddle Peddyc’s and Anasyn’s horses.
“Hah, here’s a mule for you, lad,” he said, pointing down the line of stalls. “Put that saddle on him, and then we’ll tie a load of grain sacks behind you, and you’ll ride with me at the end of the line, like, and who’s to cast a look your way?”
No one, in the event. Lilli rode out of Dun Deverry in a cloud of dust and a crowd of yawning men. Ahead lay the long parkland of the hill on which the dun stood. The road down twisted through a maze of baffles and walls, each one manned. They rode through gate after gate, but the gatekeepers never looked at her, nor did the sleepy guards, coming down from their night’s watch on the walls. The last gate—out and safe! The old manservant caught Lilli’s attention and grinned. As the warband made their slow way through the ruins of the city, she slouched in the saddle and leaned against the sacks of grain stowed behind her. No one ever looked her way.
Ahead the city gates stood open. Beyond them she could see green fields and a flash of silver river. As the warband plodded through, four abreast, she twisted in the saddle and looked back to the dun, rising towered and grey in the brightening light. What would her mother do when she found her gone? Use her dark dweomer and scry her out? The terror came back like a blow to her heart, and she gasped for breath while sweat beaded and ran.
“Hush, lass,” the manservant whispered. “We’re out now. You’re free, and the good tieryn will keep you that way. Ye gods, I’d lay down my life to keep you safe myself, for bringing the truth of our lady’s death.” His rheumy old eyes overflowed, and he turned away, wiping them on his sleeve.
“I’ll pray you never have to,” Lilli said. “From the bottom of my heart.”
While the sun climbed and the dawn turned into morning, the warband rode straight west, heading for Camlyn’s dun and Lady Bevyan.
“Brour’s gone!” Merodda snapped. “I never had time to look yesterday, what with the uproar over Bevyan’s death. But he’s gone good and proper—his clothes, his book, everything!”
“Indeed?” Burcan said. “Do you think he’ll be heading back to Cerrmor to sell what he knows?”
“I don’t. He left there in bad enough odor to never dare go back. He’s gone north, I’ll wager. He comes from the far Northlands, and he’s oft mentioned how he misses his kin and country.”
Burcan considered with a scowl. The morning light streamed through the windows of her reception chamber, and in the brightness his lined face sagged, all stubbled and pouchy-eyed.
“Lilli told me he might have a lass here in the dun,” Merodda went on. “No doubt he lied to her—set up a ruse, perhaps.”
“Could she scry him out?”
“Now there’s a thought! Wait here. I’ll fetch her.”
When Merodda went to Lilli’s chamber, she found it empty, though the bed had obviously been slept in. Swearing under her breath, she headed toward the great hall, but at the head of the stairs she found a page, returning from some errand.
“Go find my daughter and have her come to my chamber.”
“I will, my lady.” The page bowed and hurried off.
Merodda returned to her suite of rooms to find Burcan pacing back and forth by a window. She sat down in her chair by the hearth and watched him.
“Is your heart troubled?” she said at last. “By killing Bevyan, I mean?”
“What